Ernie hated this about Peter. Compromise. That’s why lawyers didn’t start revolutions: they didn’t believe in anything, except money, and even that had eluded Pathetic Pete. So the issue of Coke was avoided. We continued, Pop searching his list, saying, ‘Still alright to put this lot in your shed, Ern?’

‘Yeah,’ he mumbled.

‘Fay’d sniff it out in five minutes flat.’

‘It’s alright.’ Short, sharp, Cokeless.

I loved the Gleneagles Woolies, especially on weekdays (like today) when I should’ve been at school. Pop had picked me up after recess. He’d said I didn’t need to come, but I’d said I did.

School days had their own pace. The government was taking care of the kids; grown-ups could get on with important things. A couple of old blokes standing in front of the newsagent checking their keno tickets; Clarrie and Ruth sharing a sandwich in the snack bar, the slow, no-rush cuts of the knife, the plate slid across the melamine, a single bite, chewing, as Clarrie wiped his chin with a napkin and said to Ruth, That ham’s nice, and she replied, Special, continental, and he nodded as if to say, Yes, they know how to do ham.

Peter chose a few cans of tuna. Pop consulted his list and said, ‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ but allowed it anyway.

‘I hate tuna,’ Ern said.

‘If yer gonna complain the whole time,’ Pop replied.

‘Do you like tuna, Clem?’

Pop. ‘It’s not a council meeting. Tuna’s filling, and light, so we can take it.’ He turned and continued, refusing to argue facts. Cocoa. Milk powder. Peter said he’d prefer tea, so we bought bags, and Ern wanted coffee, and Pop said, ‘It’s not on the list.’

‘Bugger yer list. I don’t like cocoa, I like coffee.’

‘Well, you can bloody well drink cocoa. It’s not gonna kill you.’

‘Coffee relaxes you.’

‘Well, why don’t we take one of them machines?’

‘Now you’re being difficult.’

‘Am I?’

We continued. In the next aisle, Ern selected beans and sausages. Pop said, ‘It’s dearer like that.’

‘Twelve cents? For snags? I don’t think they’re gonna weigh us down any more, eh?’ He held the can in front of Pop’s face.

‘That’s it, forget it.’ Pop turned, abandoned his shopping and walked towards the checkout.

Ern called, ‘What, you havin’ a tanty?’

Pop didn’t reply. We studied the trolley, the groceries forming a small mountain of canned everything. ‘Leave it,’ I said.

We followed a few steps behind. Peter said, ‘Carn, Doug, we haven’t even left.’

‘We’re not gonna.’

‘We gotta get along.’

He turned. ‘No, we don’t. It was my trip. I don’t gotta get along with no one. I’ll go by myself.’ He continued, past the butcher, into the car park.

Peter said, ‘What about I shout us all a coffee?’

‘Piss off! Don’t know what I was thinking. Five minutes with him!’ And he pointed at Ernie.

Leaving the car park, he crossed Blacks Road and headed down the back streets towards Lanark III.