Chapter 1

Great, just great. Another day, another trip out shopping for nothing in particular. It was hard life, oh who am I kidding? Every other girl would probably loved this job except I hated it, it was long, tiring, and most of all boring. Every person I was sent out shopping for usual just wanted groceries and the odd bath product. Occasionally I got to do the whole food shop for them. See, being a personal shopper isn't all fancy clothes, rich customers and great shops; it's more old ladies who can't get out of the house any more.

I didn't mind it at times, some of the ladies where really lovely people, I could spend hours in their company just listening to them talk about the good old days and more importantly they enjoyed the company to. Some of them didn't even have family anymore and it was nice for me to be at least able to fill some gap there, even if it was only for one day a week.

I picked up an apple and examined it, looking for any blemishes or bruises. Mrs. Yates was very picky about her fruit and veg; they had to be the perfect shape, size and weight. She liked me getting them for her; she said I had a good eye for them, I didn't know how to quite take that so I decided it would be best as a compliment. Maybe one day I would become a great green grocer. But today was extra special, her eldest son and grand children where coming to stay with her and she wanted me to help her prepare a wonderful meal. She was one of those ladies I actually enjoyed shopping for, so being extra picky was no trouble.

Mrs. Yates knew I always wanted to follow in my mother's footsteps and become a chef, despite her odd little habits she was a lovely woman, someone who I had come to look upon as my grandmother since mine had died when I was still a baby. She had kindly accepted that role when I hadn't even asked her to. So because of this she knew that asking me to help cook was a great offer for me and she knew I wouldn't be able to decline.

I put the apple in the plastic bag along with rest and went on with the shopping. I was going to prepare just a simple Lamb Roast Dinner with an apple pie for afters. I had the meat and veg already so I was just finishing off searching for the pastry. I decided on short crust but could I find it? Hell no.

I turned the trolley round and went back down the frozen section aisle again, checking each freezer carefully. I still couldn't see it. I looked round for any employees to ask, luckily for me, one of my best friends, Liz, worked here and just turned the corner. I smiled easily and walked over making sure to push the trolley in front of her so she couldn't get away.

"Excuse me, where is the short crust pastry? Did you stock these freezers missy? You should be sacked they're atrocious."

She looked up at me like a bunny caught in the headlights, her eyes wide with the ideas of a confrontation. It took her a few seconds to realise it was just me and then she relaxed, hitting me on the arm.

"Bitch, you scared me then. What are you doing here?" she asked me, relaxing even more.

"Shopping for Mrs. Yates. She wants me to help cook for her tonight. And really, where is the pastry?"

She laughed and pointed behind her, "That aisle."

"You mean I was looking in the wrong place all along?"

"Yes Megan," she replied laughing. I narrowed my eyes and pushed the trolley past her, making sure to elbow her as I went past. She just laughed again and got on with her work. I sometimes wondered how we managed not to kill each other never mind stay friends.

I found the pastry quite quickly after that; I guess the big sign overhead that read 'Pastry and Frozen Cakes' should have given it away. I was never one for being observant.

I paid and headed outside, since I failed my driving test I sat and waited for one of the routine taxes to pick me up. It wasn't far to Mrs. Yates so the fare would only be a small amount, nothing that would put me out of pocket. I sat on the wall, pushing the trolley back and forth with my feet, I must have looked out but for some reason I found it therapeutic, the constant motion relaxed me.

I noticed a couple with a small child waiting a little further down for a taxi, the woman was cooing over the baby trying to calm it down while the man paced up and down pointing occasionally to a poster up on the wall. I was a regular visitor to the supermarket and a regular customer for the taxes so I knew that was a new addition to the wall. I pushed myself off the smaller wall and walked over to it dragging the trolley behind me, a few people yelled at me as I ran over their toes, judging by the way I handled a simple trolley I was probably best of not driving.

"Sorry, Due to a disagreement with the Taxi Firm, we are no longer able to supply a routine taxi trip from this supermarket. We hope to rectify this soon but in the meantime we are sorry for any inconvenience caused.

The Manger."

Or maybe I should learn to drive. I sighed and gathered up my three bags, I guess I would be walking it then. I looked at my watch it was already ten to four and she wanted me there for quarter past, I would probably make it in time, but then again these bags where already beginning to feel heavy. I put them back down and searched for my mobile phone. After battling with the key lock (I've never been good with technology) I managed to dial Mrs. Yates number.

An unfamiliar voice answered the phone, "Hello? Yates Residence."

"Hi, Is Mrs. Yates there? Its Megan her … shopper." I cringed that hadn't sounded quite right.

"Oh, hello Megan, mother has been telling me all about you, she's just out in the garden at the moment. Can I take a message for you?"

"Um … sure. I might be a little late coming from the shop, I can't get a taxi."

"It's no problem, you just stay right there, and I'll get my son to pick you up. He'll be there in a few minutes ok?"

"Thanks Mr. Yates."

"Desmond please, just look out for a black Mercedes, Mother has been showing us pictures of you so my son will recognise you. See you soon."

I didn't have chance to say my goodbyes as he hung up quickly. Despite the abrupt ending he actually sounded like a very nice gentleman, very friendly. He had a strong accent, a mixture of east end London and American. I knew she had family out there but she rarely talked about them. Her son, Desmond, had lived out there, married and then had their first child there, before the three of them flew back to sunny old England and have lived here since.

I went back to my wall and resumed pushing it with my feet. I watched as the couple relaxed as another taxi from a different firm pulled up in front of them. The woman and child bundled into the back seat and the man and driver loaded the boot full of their shopping. And with that they drove off leaving me all alone in the Taxi rank.

I kept my eye on the car park entrance, looking out for a black Mercedes; about three came in but none of them made their way towards me. I tried to picture Desmond's son. Mrs. Yates had shown me pictures of him from when he was younger; they still lived in London where as she moved up north when she married her late husband, so she never saw them. I remember him having dirty blonde hair that was cut short and was very skinny for his height, what you might call lanky. I couldn't really remember any stand out features and the picture had been taken when he was thirteen, he was probably about eighteen now.

It was at that moment a black Mercedes pulled up in front of me, music blaring from it. I stood up, not really knowing what to expect. The passenger door opened and I got my first proper look at the young Mr. Yates, for the life of me I couldn't remember his first name. Boy had he filled out, he was no longer the lanky, young lad I'd been shown in the pictures, he was a strapping, very handsome, blonde thingy. I had to literally stop myself from drooling.

"Megan right? I'm John, Mrs. Yates grandson." It took me a second to actually realise he was speaking to me.

"Hi, Megan, yes me, I mean I'm Megan." I felt myself going bright red and my cheeks burning but he just laughed as if girls' turning into blubbering wrecks around him was normal. Thinking about it, with his looks (and money) they probably did.

"I've opened the boot, so just put the bags in and come sit next to me," he patted the passenger seat, and I had a hard time dragging myself to the boot. I was a bit disappointed he hadn't got out and helped me but oh well, a girl can't have everything.

I quickly put the shopping in the boot and then got in the car myself. It was a hot day and the seats where leather; I cringed as my legs rubbed against the seat making a squeaking noise. Why oh why did I have to wear a skirt today of all days? If he noticed he didn't say anything though, he just started the engine and pulled out, the music blaring yet again.

"Thanks for picking me up, you didn't have to." I wondered if he could hear me over the music.

"No worries, what was a pretty girl like you doing at a dump like that anyway?"

"Getting the food for your tea, and it's not a dump." I had grown up in that area of town, despite it's problems it still had a place in my heart and I didn't take any criticism of it lightly. The town was basically what you would call a Council Estate; aka the houses people can rent from the local government for a small amount of money. I lived in the good part of the estate; we had very little trouble and most of the people where friendly. There where some parts of it though I wouldn't even send Bin laden into it was that rough. Luckily for me the supermarket was in the nice end.

"Sure it is, look a burnt out car," he nodded in the direction of the wreck on the edge of the car park. He did have a point there but I wasn't giving in, not even to a stranger. Correction, handsome stranger. He didn't live here so how would he know? He was rich, his father, Desmond was a big wig in London working for some Marketing company.

"It's character." I replied smiling at what I considered my oh so clever reply.

"It's a mess and not safe. I've always hated this town, so common. Just look at the people, kids ganging up on street corners, underage drinking and probably drug using. I don't understand why Nan loves it so much, we've been asking her for years to move away from here. It's rough, dirty and unsafe for an elderly woman, especially one that needs someone to do her own shopping, the last one she had stole from her."

Suddenly he wasn't so handsome anymore; in fact I wanted to hit him. Hard. And common? This place was common? What the … I couldn't reply to him, I couldn't think of anything nice to say, so I took the age old advice of keeping my mouth shut. I didn't like it but I thought of Mrs. Yates and how fond she sounded as she talked to me about John. I would not spoil this evening for her; besides, I didn't have to talk to him. I am a master on the art of avoiding so it shouldn't be to hard.

Neither of us said anything for the rest of the journey and before long we pulled up outside of the old house. John got out first, kicking an empty drinks can out of the way with a look of disgust on his face. Again I resisted the urge to say something and just got out, heading to the boot so I could collect the shopping and get inside quickly.

This time he followed me round and opened up the boot for me, he took two of the bags out and left the lightest for me. I picked it up and shut the boot, muttering my forced thanks.

We entered the house, John in front, and made our way to the kitchen. I could hear the television in the front room and assumed everyone else was in there. I followed John into the kitchen and saw Mrs. Yates sat by the table, a hot cup of tea in her hands.

"Hello, John, Megan. Glad to see you two got home all right. Did you get along just fine?"

John smiled and leaned down kissing his Nan on the cheek, she pretended to blush and then pushed him away lightly. He laughed and stood up.

"Just great Nan."

Was he blind? Could he not tell that I had gone from a drooling hormonal teenager to one very upset hormonal teenager? He had dared to call my town and me, somewhere I am sure he was insulting me to. Every town had its problems so why just pick on mine? He was one very smug and stuck up …

Mrs. Yates turned to me, expecting me to reply to her question, which brought me back from my thoughts slash rant. John turned to look at me as well, his eyes filled with mischief, at least he noticed I was upset then. I forced a smile onto my face.

"Fine, Mrs. Yates, your grandson was very kind coming to pick me up like that."

She smiled broadly at the compliment and patted John on the arm lovingly. "Glad to hear that Megan, you should get used to it. I was on the phone to your mother earlier, she told me about the restaurant changing the hours she worked so she can no longer drive you to school …"

Uh oh, I didn't like where this was going. Please say he isn't going to be driving me. Please.

"So John will take you, he'll be finishing off his final year at sixth form at your school. I'm delighted he found a friend already, especially you Megan, I hoped you two would get along." She winked at us and it took a second for her meaning to sink in.

I opened my mouth trying to speak and not sound like an idiot. Not only was he now driving me to school, he'll be attending my school. This was much worse than what I originally thought. John just stood there smiling at me, his eyes laughing and mocking me. I could just tell we weren't going to get along. It just goes to show you should never judge a book by its cover. But, I still hadn't said anything and Mrs Yates was looking at me, waiting patiently.

"Great, just great."

A/N – I suddenly got this idea this afternoon and spent hours writing this. Please let me know what you think after the disaster of my last story. Constructive criticism is welcome, down right rudeness is not. Sorry, just a bee in my bonnet that I have. Please review.