The Taming Of The Queen*

“Tanya, I’ve done a bad thing,” Mum says, looking distressed.  “I’m afraid it’s your fault.”

I’ve just surfaced from a sleep in the car.  We’re on our way to Abroad.

“What’s happened?” I say.

“I’ve forgotten the Marmite,” Mum says.  “You were meant to remind me and…”

“I can’t believe you’ve forgotten it,” I say.  “You’ve been banging on about bringing-the-Marmite for ages.  I just assumed you’d packed it first or…”

“Let’s go to the loo,” Mum says.

Leaving Dad in the car, we weave through the coaches to a building that must contain a loo.  

“Oh look, there’s a W.H. Smith,” Mum says, and we wander in.

At the front of the shop there are books and I find the new Philippa Gregory: The Taming Of The Queen and pick it up.  This is exciting.  

Following Mum round the corner, I hear her let out a cry of triumph: “yessssss!”

She is holding a little jar of Marmite aloft: as if it’s the Wimbledon trophy.

“We’d better take two,” I say.

Happy Saturday everyone! 

*2015.  By Philippa Gregory.  Historical novel.

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