Mither, as she stramped towards the shoappie. Chloe hirpled ahint her in her uncomfortable Sunday shuin, strauchlin tae keep up. Her mind had been elsewhaur aw day. Noo she wis cairryin aroond twa hoat-air balloon-sized secrets in her heid – Mr Mingin hidin in the gairden shed and her da in the cupboard unner the stairs!
“Ah, ma twa favourite customers!” Raj cried oot as they entered the shoap. “The perjink Mrs Ploom and her delichtfu dochter, Chloe.”
“It’s Plum!” correctit Mither. “Sae, Raj, can I rely on yer vote?”
“Are ye on The X-Factor ?!” said Raj aw excitit. “Aye, aye, coorse I’ll vote for ye. Whit are ye singin on Setterday?”
“Naw, she’s no daein The X-Factor , Raj,” interjectit Chloe, tryin no tae lauch at the thocht.
“ Britain’s Goat Talent then? Ye’re mibbe daein a ventriloquist act wi a bawheid otter puppet cawed Jeremy? That wid be maist amusin!”
“Naw, she’s no daein Britain’s Goat Talent either.” Chloe smirkled.
“ Hoo dae ye solve ony dream will dae I’d dae onythin or whitver it’s cawed wi Graham thingwy?”
“It’s the election, Raj,” interruptit Mither. “Ye ken, the local election? I’m staundin tae be oor local MP.”
“And when is this election thingwy happenin then?”
“Nixt Friday. I cannae believe ye’ve missed it! It’s aw ower these newspapers, Raj!” Mither wagged a haun at the muckle piles o newspapers in the shoap.
“Och, I ainly read Nuts and Zoo ,” said Raj. “I get aw the news I need fae them.”
Mither gied him a snottery look, even though Chloe suspectit she wisnae sure whit either Nuts or Zoo wis. Chloe had yince seen a copy o Nuts that yin o the aulder laddies had brocht tae the schuil, and kent it wis awfie coorse.
“Whit dae you think are the maist important issues Britain faces the day?” spiered Mither, delichted wi the clivverocity and smairtiness o her ain question.
Raj thocht for a meenit, then shouted ower at some laddies that were hingin aboot the pick ‘n’ mix. “Dinnae pit the liquorice in yer mooth unless ye’re gonnae buy it, young man! Och naw, I’m gonnae hae tae pit that liquorice on special offer noo!”
Raj grabbed a pen and a piece o caird. He scrievit ‘hauf chawed’, and pit it on the liquorice boax. “Sorry, whit wis the question again?”
Note tae self , thocht Chloe. Dinnae ever buy ony liquorice fae this shoap again.
“Eh … Noo whaur wis I?” said Mither tae Raj. “Oh aye, whit dae you think are the maist—?”
“… important issues Britain faces the day, Raj?” said Raj brichtly. “Och, I didnae need tae say ‘Raj’. I am Raj. Weel, I think it wid be a muckle advance if Cadbury’s Creme Eggs were available no jist at Easter but aw year roond. They are yin o ma maist popular items. And I strangly believe that Quavers should diversifee fae cheese flavours tae incorporate Asian Chucken and Lamb Rogan Josh as weel. And maist importantly, and I ken this micht be a bittie controversial, but I think that coffee Revels maun be banned as they speyl an itherwise perfectly wunnerfu sweetie. There, it’s oot. I’ve said hit.”
“Richt,” said Mither.
“And if ye promise tae chynge the government policy on thae issues ye can rely on ma vote, Mrs Ploom!”
Mither had had a mixed response tae her campaignin sae faur, and wis keen tae secure this potentially crucial vote.
“Aye, I will certainly try, Raj!” she said.
“Thank you awfie muckle,” said Raj. “Please help yersel tae somethin fae the shoap.”
“Naw, I couldnae dae that, Raj!”
“Gaun, Mrs Ploom. Tak a boax o Terry’s Aw Gowd, I’ve ainly taen oot the caramel squares. Mmm, they are braw. And mibbe Chloe wid like this Fingir o Fudge? It’s a bittie flet because ma wife sat on it, but it’s perfectly guid tae eat.”
“We couldnae possibly tak these kind gifties, Raj,” said Mither.
“Weel, why no buy them then? Yin boax o Terry’s Aw Gowd, £4.29, and a Fingir o Fudge, 20p.
“Ah, ma twa favourite customers!” Raj cried oot as they entered the shoap. “The perjink Mrs Ploom and her delichtfu dochter, Chloe.”
“It’s Plum!” correctit Mither. “Sae, Raj, can I rely on yer vote?”
“Are ye on The X-Factor ?!” said Raj aw excitit. “Aye, aye, coorse I’ll vote for ye. Whit are ye singin on Setterday?”
“Naw, she’s no daein The X-Factor , Raj,” interjectit Chloe, tryin no tae lauch at the thocht.
“ Britain’s Goat Talent then? Ye’re mibbe daein a ventriloquist act wi a bawheid otter puppet cawed Jeremy? That wid be maist amusin!”
“Naw, she’s no daein Britain’s Goat Talent either.” Chloe smirkled.
“ Hoo dae ye solve ony dream will dae I’d dae onythin or whitver it’s cawed wi Graham thingwy?”
“It’s the election, Raj,” interruptit Mither. “Ye ken, the local election? I’m staundin tae be oor local MP.”
“And when is this election thingwy happenin then?”
“Nixt Friday. I cannae believe ye’ve missed it! It’s aw ower these newspapers, Raj!” Mither wagged a haun at the muckle piles o newspapers in the shoap.
“Och, I ainly read Nuts and Zoo ,” said Raj. “I get aw the news I need fae them.”
Mither gied him a snottery look, even though Chloe suspectit she wisnae sure whit either Nuts or Zoo wis. Chloe had yince seen a copy o Nuts that yin o the aulder laddies had brocht tae the schuil, and kent it wis awfie coorse.
“Whit dae you think are the maist important issues Britain faces the day?” spiered Mither, delichted wi the clivverocity and smairtiness o her ain question.
Raj thocht for a meenit, then shouted ower at some laddies that were hingin aboot the pick ‘n’ mix. “Dinnae pit the liquorice in yer mooth unless ye’re gonnae buy it, young man! Och naw, I’m gonnae hae tae pit that liquorice on special offer noo!”
Raj grabbed a pen and a piece o caird. He scrievit ‘hauf chawed’, and pit it on the liquorice boax. “Sorry, whit wis the question again?”
Note tae self , thocht Chloe. Dinnae ever buy ony liquorice fae this shoap again.
“Eh … Noo whaur wis I?” said Mither tae Raj. “Oh aye, whit dae you think are the maist—?”
“… important issues Britain faces the day, Raj?” said Raj brichtly. “Och, I didnae need tae say ‘Raj’. I am Raj. Weel, I think it wid be a muckle advance if Cadbury’s Creme Eggs were available no jist at Easter but aw year roond. They are yin o ma maist popular items. And I strangly believe that Quavers should diversifee fae cheese flavours tae incorporate Asian Chucken and Lamb Rogan Josh as weel. And maist importantly, and I ken this micht be a bittie controversial, but I think that coffee Revels maun be banned as they speyl an itherwise perfectly wunnerfu sweetie. There, it’s oot. I’ve said hit.”
“Richt,” said Mither.
“And if ye promise tae chynge the government policy on thae issues ye can rely on ma vote, Mrs Ploom!”
Mither had had a mixed response tae her campaignin sae faur, and wis keen tae secure this potentially crucial vote.
“Aye, I will certainly try, Raj!” she said.
“Thank you awfie muckle,” said Raj. “Please help yersel tae somethin fae the shoap.”
“Naw, I couldnae dae that, Raj!”
“Gaun, Mrs Ploom. Tak a boax o Terry’s Aw Gowd, I’ve ainly taen oot the caramel squares. Mmm, they are braw. And mibbe Chloe wid like this Fingir o Fudge? It’s a bittie flet because ma wife sat on it, but it’s perfectly guid tae eat.”
“We couldnae possibly tak these kind gifties, Raj,” said Mither.
“Weel, why no buy them then? Yin boax o Terry’s Aw Gowd, £4.29, and a Fingir o Fudge, 20p.
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