Monday, 16 February 2015

snippet of The Truffle War

He had been quietly cultivating a friendship with Iris all day on the dig, which in reality meant giving her dreamy looks and sighing a lot. Now he felt his persuasive personality had paid off.

“Oh, hello Iris.” David’s larynx bunched up like a tangle of rubber bands in his throat.

“Hello you.” Iris snuggled into her large scarf and woolly hat. “I thought you might like some hot soup.” She produced a thermos of soup from her shoulder bag.

“Soup.” David tried to get his tongue working.

“Yes, hot soup. We could share if you like?”

“Share.” David croaked.

“Shall I help you with that?” Iris took the chair from his grasp. “Shall we go?” David might have read the manual on spotting a criminal in a crowd, but he didn’t have a clue when it came to spotting love, whereas Iris Woo could.

The couple set up camp at the edge of the dig and David offered his chair to Iris. She sat down and poured the hot soup in to plastic cups.

“It strange how things work out isn’t it?” Iris started the conversation. And then they got talking.

When two people finally get together there is a lot to talk about. The cold didn’t bother them, the wind didn’t seem to bore into their bone marrow and the soup from a plastic cup tasted like ambrosia. Love does that to the uninitiated. To Iris and David it even made the instant coffee taste like the real thing. They passed a good hour and a half chatting about this and that and were just getting started on how they both ‘really’ liked watching that cooking programme on television when a shrill screech stopped all conversation.

“What was that?” Iris whispered grabbing David’s arm.

“Probably just an owl.”


“Oh.” Iris marveled at David’s ornithological knowledge. 

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