It is five o'clock on a cold and wet Saturday afternoon in late November. I am on my way home after watching a football match. For ninety minutes twenty-two men kicked and chased a leather ball. There was much running and shouting, but not a single goal. The cold is seeping into my bones as the wind whistles along the street. I wish I had stayed in bed all day.
Then, suddenly, a light appears out of the darkness, its glow reflected in the puddles on the pavement. It's the neon light of a fish and chip shop. The smell of fried fish floats on the evening air. I forget the football game. I forget the cold. I remember food. Food, wonderful food. I am beginning to feel better already.
The bright light invites me into the shop, and as I enter, I feel a sticky warmth all around me. On the wall is a menu: cod, haddock, plaice, chips, sausage in batter, meat balls, mushy peas, banana fritters. I feel so hungry I could eat it all. There is a line of people waiting to order. Behind the counter two women and two men are busy preparing the fish, frying it, and then putting it into bags.
'Cod and chips, please,' I say when it is finally my turn to order.
'Salt and vinegar?' One of the women asks. I nod. She takes a piece of fish from the hot oil, shakes it, then puts it in a bag. With a large spoon she fills the bag with chips, and then adds the salt and vinegar. Wrapping the bag of food in thick paper to keep it warm, she asks me if I want anything else. I ask for a small wooden fork. 'Help yourself,' she says, pointing with her finger to an open box on the counter. I pay my money and leave.
Walking out of the shop into the cold air, I look up at the sky. It has stopped raining. I unwrap the paper and open the bag. Carefully holding my food in my left hand, I use the fork to cut open the fish. Its soft white meat looks too beautiful to eat. I close my eyes and put the fish in my mouth. Bliss!