: Pardon My Faux Pas
Two old school friends meet for the first time in years in the supermarket. They chat about old times, decide to continue their conversation over coffee, but there is a surprise waiting for them in the Rest Your Bones coffee lounge, as Ern Carne's story reveals.
Thelma Pettigrew pushed her shopping trolley from the store. Her mind was trying to fathom how so few items could cost $83.25. She sensed someone was staring at her and she looked up from the printout and its ugly truth. She stared blankly for a moment at the tall, blonde woman blocking her way, and then her face broke into a pretty smile.
‘It is, isn’t it? You’re Liz Butler aren’t you?’
‘I was twenty years ago Thelma. I’ve got a new name since then. I’m Liz Perkov now.'
Liz pushed her trolley aside and hurried around to hug her highschool friend.
‘It’s so good to see you again,Thelma. Remember our last year at Keilor High when both of us fancied that kid who played football for the school? What was his name again, do you remember?’
Thelma put on her victory smile. These days she might have a figure like Burl Ives but right now she felt one-up on Liz. 'His name is Jimmy Pettigrew. I married him!’
Liz gave a little gasp of admiration. ‘Jimmy Pettigrew? Do you mean the same Jimmy Pettigrew who is now coaching the Kookaburras?’
‘That’s my Jimmy.’
‘Wow.’ You’ve done well for yourself. The papers say his salary is about the same as the cost of the great Southern Stand.'
‘If only…’ Thelma laughed.
‘Gee, it’s really great to see you again. Have you got time to have a coffee?’ Liz asked.
‘Let’s park our trolleys with the minder and go down to the Rest Your Bones. That’s my favourite in this shopping center. We’ve got so much to catch up on. You can come, can’t you?’
‘Sure, I don’t usually have time for a coffee but I’ll make time today. It’s special. Isn’t it? What does your husband do?’ Thelma asked as they strolled towards the coffee lounge.
‘Serge is in the hospitality industry’, Liz said without much enthusiasm. ‘It’s long hours, hard work and the pay is nothing like a footballer gets.’ Liz was thinking about what might have been had she played her cards differently.
The two old friends found themselves a table in a quiet corner of the softly-lit lounge. The delightful aroma of fresh coffee caused their taste buds to tingle.
‘Black or white, cappuccino or latte?’ Funny not knowing what my friend prefers. We sure have missed a lot. Do you have children?’ Liz at last paused for a breath.
‘I have two teenage boys, both at high school and both mad about football. I spend half my time washing football jumpers and shorts. What about you?’
‘We just have one daughter. She was married last year. I was glad to see her leave, Liz whispered. She never got along with her father. Every mealtime was like a war zone. Serge is from a family background that is tough on teenage girls.’
‘That must have been sad for you,’ Thelma said. She then leaned across the table and whispered to Liz. ‘That jerk behind the cappuccino machine is ogling us. Who gives these St.Kilda Beach Romeos the right to gawk at us?’
Liz twisted in her velvet chair and glanced over her shoulder. The shopkeeper with the Expresso-coloured complexion and a band-aid stuck on a shaving cut near his ear, gave her an awkward wave.
‘Well there’s one thing to our advantage in coming here,’ Liz quipped. It won’t cost us anything for our coffee. That’s Serge.’
Thelma gulped. ‘Oh no. It’s your husband
