Thursday, August 14, 2008
Thursday is Flea Market day in Laverstone. Market square is just a little bit down from Alexandrian Books, close enough for Harold to stare out of the window to the stalls. There aren’t as many as on a regular market, so we can’t play Water Polo – not that it’s raining today, though it might, judging by the clouds.
What we can see from here, though, is the butty van. This serves hot food and drinks, sandwiches, crisps and cans of pop to the shoppers and the local shop workers and salmonella to the unsuspecting purchasers of reheated chicken. Near the butty van is a long bench suitable for four people, though this morning is was occupied by the Clarkson sisters.
All three of them well into their sixties (and seventies in the case of Clara) and all of them single (two widows, one spinster (Catherine)) and all three of them spiteful as a hungry cat. They were eating bacon and sausage sandwiches from the van, with a small table (either brought with them or purchased from the market) set out with tea cups in front of them.
We watched them, on and off, for a good hour or two and every thirty minutes or so one of them would take the teapot to the butty van and get it refilled.