You rose up on your tiptoes, stretched out your feet, craned your neck, flexed your back into an arch and extended  your arm. You reached over six tins of ragu to find the back. “The best is at the back,” you said. You took another and loaded into the baby seat of your trolley, leaving the main body empty. “Just in case,” you said.

I tried to keep up, but you were quicker than me. “Slow down!” I said.

You slowed, and turned to look and wait. “Would you like to get in?” I said yes, not with my words, but with my mouth and my face, and I rose up on my tiptoes, and craned my neck, and flexed my back into an arch, and I didn’t mean to. And you extended both your arms and picked me up, and placed me in the driver’s seat, just in front of the ragu.