It was mid-morning.   I turned the corner and spotted it on the middle shelf.   The last pack of toilet rolls.  Should I run? No.  A sedate walk. I looked around – no one.  It was mine. I decided to celebrate in the makeup aisle. It’s good to cheer oneself up by looking better. Eye lined eyes have that effect on me. It’s a shock when looking in the mirror these days. I seem to have completely disappeared behind my glasses.

And because of my eyes, it was a very close look at the beauty shelves. I almost bought a permanent eyebrow liner in orange.  As I crouched lower towards the eyes in subtle sable, I had an uneasy feeling. Yes, my right knee is troublesome and I know my girth is getting in the way of a good clear bend, but this was something else.  I realised that I had carelessly left my shopping basket next to me while searching for upliftment (my bag was safely on my shoulder). But how could I have left my sought after- treasure unattended? I grabbed the pack and squeezed it between my knees, while quickly choosing my colour.   Did I look odd, I wondered? If anything, I looked as if I needed the loo.

Yesterday a friend shared the news. She had been told by a fellow shopper to keep an eye on her rolls. Security had warned her that packs had been shoplifted out of trolleys.  So, it seems it may yet be a battle between my bag or the toilets rolls.  Which one will I fight for?  I’m not sure. But just the thought of pinching a pack of six in aisle ten has left me worried.  The long-term outlook?  If nothing else, a healthy set of thigh adductors courtesy the scarcity crisis.