Chapter 12

3

“Don’t you two look

domestic?”

“Huh?” Paul said, halting

his progress down the supermarket aisle.

Over the past month, he’d

effortlessly fallen into the routine of doing the weekly

supermarket shop with Trevor on a Thursday evening. Trevor didn’t

have a car, so it seemed the right thing to offer his services.

Trevor had steadfastly refused to accept any money for putting him

up. Paul had argued, but Trevor had remained resolute. The only

concession Paul could wring out of his five foot seven house-mate

was that he be allowed to pay for the groceries.

“Didn’t think you knew

what the inside of a supermarket looked like,” June said, taking an

interest in the items in Paul and Trevor’s trolley.

“What? How did you think I

ate when I was still living at my place?”

“Takeaways.” June’s gaze

locked on a box of fish fingers.

“Paul’s a great cook. He

made us a delicious beef casserole the other night,” Trevor said,