Florence took her grandson Max to the farm shop with a list of six items. She read it aloud in the car: eggs, milk, potatoes, carrots, apples and bread.
Max, who was nine, wrote “no extras” at the bottom. Florence approved. She had asked him along because he was good at finding things and even better at reminding her what she meant to buy.
Inside, they passed jars of chutney, a table of knitted hats and a display of enormous pumpkins. Max carried the basket straight to the eggs. Florence stopped to ask the owner whether the new hens had settled in. By the time she caught up, Max had added eggs and milk.
At the vegetable crates, Florence spent five minutes choosing potatoes. Max counted exactly six carrots. At the apples, he asked which kind his grandfather liked. Florence said any that didn’t need peeling. He chose the small red ones.
Only bread remained. They found the shelf empty, except for a sign saying the next batch would be ready in fifteen minutes.
“We can come back tomorrow,” Max said.
“Your grandfather wants toast in the morning.”
“He can have an apple.”
Florence had taught him to stick to the list. Now she was tempted by the smell from the bakery and fifteen minutes of conversation with the owner. She agreed to wait. Max set a timer on her phone and found a bench beside the window.
A man arrived with a large paper bag. He knew Florence from the village and sat down to discuss the roadworks. A woman joined them to compare recipes for the carrots. Max listened while the three adults decided which turn into the village was still open. When the timer sounded, all of them stood up as if a bell had called a meeting to order.
The baker brought out warm loaves. Florence bought one. Max checked the list and counted six items in the basket.
“Mission accomplished,” he said.
The owner offered them a tiny slice of fresh bread with butter. Max looked at the words he had written on the list: no extras. He hesitated, then accepted the sample because it had not entered the basket.
In the car, Florence asked if he had enjoyed the trip. Max said the shop was slower than the supermarket but the bread was better. He also said the roadworks sounded more complicated than his homework.
At home, his grandfather examined the six purchases. “You were gone nearly an hour for this?”
“Fifteen minutes waiting for bread,” Max said. “The rest was Grandma collecting news about the roadworks.”
Florence laughed. “I thought you were keeping me to the list.”
“I did.” Max handed over the bread and the neatly checked page. “But next time, put ‘ask everyone about the road’ on it. Then I won’t think we’re lost.”