The old corner shop on the outskirts of Chester was a local favourite — hearty homemade food, generous portions, and warm-hearted shopkeepers. Margaret Williams had worked there for fifteen years, starting at the scales before becoming department manager. She knew everything — who preferred stuffed peppers, who needed extra helpings of porridge, and who deserved a little kindness with their order.
That day, she hurried from the stockroom with a tray of freshly made pies. Just as she placed them in the display, her eyes caught a familiar figure — a tall man in a worn-out overcoat, his eyes weary, standing at the counter as if searching for someone.
Margaret quickly approached.
“Looking for Emily? She’s off sick. Back next week. The usual, then? Sausages and ribs?”
The man blinked in surprise.
“You remember my usual order?”
“Course I do. You’re one of our regulars,” she said, cheeks flushing.
He hesitated but then added softly,
“I’ve been meaning to come to your till, Margaret. Always end up at Emily’s. Bit silly, really.”
“You know my name?”
“Says so on your badge.”
Behind them, Betty from the bakery called out sharply,
“Sir! There’s a queue forming behind you!”
He startled.
“Right, sorry. Just the sausages, please.”
Then, quieter, meeting her eyes,
“Maybe one day, a kind woman’ll make me proper bangers at home. Margaret… no ring on your finger. If you’re not spoken for—fancy letting me walk you home after your shift? I live just across the road.”
Margaret gave the slightest nod as she handed him the bag, her heart thumping like a girl’s.
“See you tonight, then,” he smiled. “Name’s Tom, by the way.”
The rest of her shift passed in a daze. Even Betty noticed.
“Margie, you alright? Cheeks red as a bride’s!”
“Just in good spirits, is all.”
At closing, she touched up her lipstick, wrapped her scarf tight, and stepped outside. Tom was waiting.
“Fancy a stroll? Maybe catch a film?”
The weather was foul, sleet clinging to their lashes as they walked the high street, chatting like old friends. At one point, he said,
“Come back to mine for a cuppa? Warm up a bit. I’m just ’round the corner.”
“Bit forward, isn’t it? We’ve only just met.”
“Met? I’ve been watching you a year now. The way you are with the old ladies, the kids… feels like I know you proper. Don’t you feel it?”
She smiled.
“Alright, Tom. Lead on—I’m soaked through.”
His flat was simple but cosy. He took her coat, set her shoes by the radiator, brewed tea with biscuits. When the storm worsened outside, he said,
“Stay. I’ll take the sofa. Where’d you go in this weather?”
Margaret glanced around—warm, safe. Her heart said stay.
“Alright then…”
She took the bed, he the sofa. But by morning, they’d found their way together.
When Emily returned from sick leave, she spotted Tom waiting for Margaret after work.
“Quick off the mark, aren’t you? I turn my back, you’ve nicked my best customer!” she laughed.
Truth was, Emily was glad. Happy Margaret shone like sunshine, warming everyone around her. Real joy carries far. Even the pies and bangers seemed to sell faster that week.
Funny how life works—you go out for sausages and come home with love. Lesson? The best things find you when you’re not looking.
