Yesterday could have been a dreadful day. Margaret and Dick walked their two girls, Rosie the Cockerpoo and Polly the Cavachon and then Margaret took a neighbour’s lovely Cockerpoo for a walk, then there was a dash here, a dash there. Finally, perfection, into town they went with Dick driving, Margaret on the back seat with Rosie and Polly. Well, Margaret knows her place.
‘Has Dada seen that car is stopping, Mama?’
‘I will save us,’ said Mama. ‘Stoppp! Brakes lights ahead.’
‘I saw, ‘ said Dada in that strange voice that sounds as though someone is strangling him. ‘That’s why I have a foot on the brake, gently, coasting towards the car with the red lights on.’
Goodness, Margaret thought. Dick is talking a lot this morning. The girls thought he was too. ‘Why are his knuckles often white in the car, Mama, when we are helping him?’
Margaret didn’t know and couldn’t understand it.
They walked into town from the carpark near the church. Dick waited outside a charity shop because Margaret wanted to buy a £2.00 DVD of the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel which she hadn’t seen for ages, and wanted to. She found one, and was very very pleased. Then they walked along a bit and into The Golden Fleece on the Market Place. It was very busy. Someone was at Table 23. Oh dear. Someone else was in the Writing Room at Margaret and Dick’s second best table, the one which also had comfy armchairs. Well, they all do, but these are the best.
Finally they were in the bar, and there was their third best table – free. They sat. Dick ordered coffees. Margaret gave the girls treats.
The lovely bloke brought the coffees. Ooh, a lovely lot of chocolate sprinkles on Margaret’s cappuccino. Then she looked, stared, searched, but no, there were no Maltesers. How could that be, for everyone who had coffee in The Golden Fleece had three Maltersers in a spirit glass? Had Dick chomped them all quick as a flash and then hidden the little spirit glasses?
Dick was shocked too, though, so Margaret called to the lovely bloke who was behind the bar, making more coffees.
‘Did you forget our Maltesers, lovely young bloke?’ She didn’t call him that aloud, she is fibbing)
‘No,’ the lovely bloke said, staying behind the bar, as though he was seeking protection. He is a big young man. He shouldn’t get frightened. But Margaret thought he really was, because he was wiping a cup as though he was going to polish it to nothing.
‘We have none. We have run out.’
Those terrible words one never expects to hear, especially in The Golden Fleece, the most perfect of hotels. None? No Maltesers? ‘Tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Would you like a digestive?’
Margaret pondered, because now she realised why there were more chocolate sprinkles than usual. She accepted the digestive. It was kind of the lovely bloke, but frankly, it was not three Maltesers – well, four, because Dick always gave Margaret one of his.
It was a nice coffee though. This lovely bloke makes almost the best Margaret has had but it’s not the same as… Dick told Margaret she was becoming obsessed.
The drive home was quiet. Margaret and the girls couldn’t even raise the will to remind Dick of the roundabouts. But as they drove down their road, Margaret remembered the amazing hot Maltesers drink she had bought herself for Mother’s Day. Oh yes, that would save the day because it is truly truly delicious. She knows because she had bought herself a jar the week before.
Into the pantry she looked. And again, because the Maltesers drink was not there, not anywhere. Margaret told Dick. Dick said, ‘I hid it, for your own good. I thought you might drink much too much of it because you love anything Malteser much too much, and then the girls and I would have to lie and say you were no fatter than you are now.’
‘Fatter. Fatter,’ shrieked Margaret. ‘Are you mad? I am not fat. Or am I? Really. Oh, am I fat?’ Margaret understands Dick. It does not take much to break him.
The Maltesers drink was ready in no time at all. It is not quite the same as the Maltesers that everyone in Thirsk looks forward to in The Golden Fleece, you know, the little choccy brown thingies that you put in the mouth, suck the chocolate off, and then crunch the honeycomb – but it was very nice. Tomorrow she will see if the Maltesers have been delivered. She is hopeful because Margaret is an optimist and a sweet natured, kindly, positive soul, or so she tells herself, one who lifts the world for those around her. Dick does not tell the flagpole about Margaret being sweet natured, kindly, positive. He certainly does not tell it that she lifts the world for those around her, but that’s quite another matter and one Margaret will address another day.
https://www.mars.com/