| |
Luckily, some customers came in and saved me from Della’s grilling. She let it go, at least for a time, and introduced me as her friend from Washington, D.C. We all nodded and smiled at each other in that polite, if somewhat awkward, social custom in the States. Rather a sweet gesture on Della’s part, as though I were a visiting dignitary from the nation’s capital. Unfortunately, I knew there wasn’t a speck of dignity about what brought me to Laurel Falls.
An older woman grabbed my arm rather brusquely and walked me over to the cheese counter. “What is your favorite English cheese, Mr. Steadman?” she asked. I quickly determined that Della didn’t stock Stilton, and since I didn’t want to diminish her offerings, I lied and said Wensleydale, which sat foremost in the case. It’s a fine cheese, just not my personal favorite. But that woman wasn’t really cheese shopping, was she?
Within minutes another customer butted in to ask me about tea and scones and everything British with the urgency of someone expecting the Queen to arrive any minute for tea. I’d lived in America almost as long as ole Blighty, but I played along. Anything to avoid Della’s probing, reporterly questions.
A third woman (Della later informed me she was one of the posh second-home customers) cornered me about England, inquiring where she should visit on her trip later that summer. She actually drew herself so close to me, I worried she might lay a hit and miss*on me.
After that flurry of customers, I managed to avoid telling Della anything more about my troubles for the rest of the day. I assumed it would all come out in the days ahead.
It did. Just not the way anyone wanted.
* Cockney rhyming slang for kiss. See glossary in the back for more words and definitions.