The Press:
STUDENT SIT-IN ENDS IN BLOODBATH
A peaceful protest by the Christchurch Vegetarian Society turned violent after one member threw blood on supermarket workers in Riccarton early yesterday evening.
A person in their early twenties was removed by police after they swilled supermarket butchery employees with pig’s blood. They are expected to face several charges.
Mila Towbridge, the society president, said the incident had not been planned and no one else was aware of the intended action.
The supermarket was closed overnight for cleaning. The owner, Alan Jones, said he’d “had a gutsful of all these bleeding heart liberals.”
Meat consumption in New Zealand has reduced greatly in the past few years with 31% of the population now eating less or no meat while only 3% are full vegan.
Faith had purchased the fondue set in the end so after Anna put on some washing, including the bedding from Rizzo, they decided to wander down to the local supermarket and get some cheese and bits and pieces to cook in it.
When they got there, there was a crowd of people outside with placards.
A middle-aged woman wearing overalls and Doc Martens was shouting into a megaphone “Meat is murder!” A harassed-looking man in tan slacks with the beginnings of a comb-over was talking animatedly with several supermarket staff, gesturing wildly at the protesters. His name badge said ‘Alan’.
“My apologies, ladies, please, please, let them through,” he said, waving his arms wildly to try to create a space to the store entrance. Anna and Faith slipped in, and then had a small struggle with a young dreadlocked woman over the shopping baskets.
“Tell me you won’t be putting dead animals in here,” she said, gripping one handle.
Faith tugged gently on the other handle. “Well, I was thinking just a little bit of steak, or maybe some meatballs?”
“You can’t,” the woman implored them. “Think of those poor calves, ripped from their mothers, those sad, beautiful eyes.”
Faith did love cows. She looked over at Anna, who rolled her eyes a little.
“Well, yes, it’s very sad, but I mean, they’re already dead, aren’t they?” Anna said. “And we’re designed to eat meat after all.”
They’d given up getting the basket from the woman and she was trailing along with them down the aisle, talking about the impact of effluent on the waterways and sustainable crop harvesting as Anna put various things into the basket that they were still holding awkwardly between them.
“Look, hun, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. I just don’t think this is the best way to go about it,” Faith told her.
The girl looked furtively around the store and then leant in to whisper.
“To be honest, I love animals, but I’m really here about the owner,” she said in a hushed whisper. “He’s an arsehole. My sister used to work here and he was always making gross comments and ‘accidentally’ brushing up against her and stuff. He does it to all the new girls.”
“Really?” Faith said. “Has anyone reported him?”
“Yeah, but so far no one has had enough proof. Their word against his. So I figure I’ll get him where it hurts, stuff up his business.”
“Who is this guy?” Anna asked, and the woman — her name was Jen, she told them — pointed to Alan still in the front entrance. They could see him through the automatic doors, talking to one of the young girls in a supermarket uniform and as if on cue, he gave her a hug, his meaty hand slipping down to cup her bottom. She jumped back and he gave her a leery grin.
“Eww, what a creep,” Faith said. “I’ve half a mind to join you.”
“We’re going to do a sit-in in ten minutes or so,” Jen said.
“The more people the better.”
Faith looked at Anna, who was still watching the front doorway. She turned to look at Faith and grinned.
“A sit-in, eh? That’s exactly what I would have done in my youth. Shall we?”
“Really?” Faith said. Half of her wanted to do it, just to say she had, and it might be quite exciting. The other half, the responsible one, was thinking that it was a bit silly to get involved. And she was looking forward to the fondue and a glass of wine. But Jen was looking imploringly at her, and Alan was definitely trying to look down the girl’s top now, and …
“To heck with it. Let’s do it,” she said.
A sit-in, it transpired, wasn’t really very thrilling. Just boring. They were camped out in front of the meat chillers and it was very draughty. The metallic smell of meat was a bit gross, and Faith had been stuck talking to an earnest young guy called Flax for the last fifteen minutes about the merits of lentils versus tofu.
Anna nudged her shoulder. “Hey, how long do these things take anyway?”
“I don’t know,” Faith confessed, “but I’m starving.” She eyed the cheese and bread in their shopping basket.
“Me too, and my arms are tired from holding this thing up.” Anna’s neighbouring protester Judy had given her a large sign with the words ‘IT’S NOT FOOD, IT’S VIOLENCE’.
“I don’t know if it’s all the talk about meat, and maybe I’m just imagining it, but I swear I can smell pies,” Faith said, her stomach grumbling.
“No, I can smell it too,” Anna said. She put the sign up and did an exaggerated stretch. “I just need to take a toilet break,” she said to the others. “Faith, did you want to go too?” She gave her a wink.
Faith jumped to her feet, the shopping basket in one hand.
“Yes, yes, we’ll be right back,” she said to Flax, moving off towards the checkouts.
Around the corner, they found a middle-aged woman in a floral apron handing out sausage roll samples to the other shoppers.
“Would you care to try one of our new pork, apple and fennel rolls?” she asked Faith, holding out one on a napkin.
“Oh yes, that sounds lovely,” Faith said and she and Anna stood eating their rolls with contented murmurs until the woman offered them seconds.
Unfortunately that was where Judy and Flax found them.
They were less than impressed. A small argument ensued where they were called traitors, turncoats and deserters and Faith was relieved when the police came in the store entrance, and Judy tugged Flax back to link arms with the others. She and Anna whipped through the self-checkout and shot out into the car park just as a woman in a cow suit passed them, carefully carrying a large red bucket.
Back at the flat, Faith met Niamh, who was a doppelganger for her mother with her long legs, blonde hair and open cheerful face. They set to work making the fondue and pouring glasses of wine.
“Is that hideous pink thing really what you guys are driving?” Niamh asked as she carefully skewered a piece of pear onto her fondue fork.
“Yep. That’s Rizzo,” Anna said.
“My God, that’s a far cry from your usual transportation, Mum. It’s nothing like your Land Rover, is it?” Anna grinned and gave her daughter the finger.
Faith shoved a cheesy mouthful of bread into her mouth and watched Anna. They obviously were very well off, yet Anna didn’t seem at all snooty or pretentious. Her phone chimed a text and she saw it was Daniel, just checking in.
“I might just ring home if you don’t mind?” she told the others, taking her wine glass and heading into the lounge. Daniel answered on the second ring.
“Hey, babe. How’s the intrepid journey going?”
“Good, we’re in Christchurch now. Going to head off Monday after we go to the bank.” Faith gave him a quick rundown on the situation, conscious not to say too much in case they could hear her from the dining room.
“Did you sleep in the van then?” he asked.
“We did. Although I almost ended up in a ménage à trois first,” Faith said with a laugh. “I’m embarrassed just thinking about it.”
“What?” Daniel laughed. “What kind of road trip is this?”
They talked for a bit longer and then Becky wanted to talk to her.
“Mum, I’m so stressed. I lost my anxiety ring.”
Faith tried not to laugh at the irony.
When she’d finished chatting she went back into the kitchen where Anna and Niamh were cleaning up.
“Everything okay?” Anna asked.
“Oh, yes, fine. Just letting Daniel know how we were.”
“Aw, that’s nice. Do you guys talk every day?”
Faith thought about it.
“Yes, I suppose we do in some format or other, even when we’re seeing each other, always have.”
“That’s so nice, especially at your age. I hope I get that,” Niamh said. Faith gave her a wry smile.
People often commented on what a good marriage she and Daniel had. She supposed they did if she thought about it. But she’d only ever been with Daniel, so she had no real comparison. Sometimes she wondered if Daniel would still have married her if she hadn’t ended up pregnant. Faith still felt a little guilty, and maybe a little curious what her life would have been like too if things hadn’t turned out like they did.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got Grease on DVD, have you, Niamh?” Anna asked.
“Mum, I don’t have anything on DVD,” Niamh said. “No one does these days.”
They found it on Netflix. Niamh stayed to watch the first twenty minutes and then got a series of texts that she answered furtively. Eventually she asked Anna if she would mind if she went out, and Faith and Anna watched the rest of the movie alone, before they headed out to the van to sleep for the night.
The van seemed smaller and the musty smell hadn’t improved much, even with the freshly washed bedding.
“I might take a sleeping pill I think,” Anna said, “I didn’t sleep that well last night. Do you want one?”
“No, thanks, I’m fine,” Faith said. “I sleep like the dead anyway.”
They settled into their beds, talking about the movie for a while. Anna wriggled around a bit and then went quiet. Faith lay there listening to the noise of the city and thinking how great things were going. She felt like she and Anna were becoming friends, and that was nice.
Music started up further down the street but it wasn’t loud or unpleasant and for a while she heard voices as people walked past, soft laughter and the metallic sound of cans. People on their way to a party maybe. Eventually, she drifted off, thinking about Sandy and her tight leather pants. The vegans would not have approved.