We had run out of milk. I say we, but it's Agnieszka who drinks it. Even on a good day I don't like it that much but particularly not the steri she insists we get from Aldi. But that's another story.
As we hadn't a drop in, we decided reluctantly to walk over to Aldi and, if that was shut, to Asda to get some more. However, on reaching Market Street we noticed the newsagents by the bus stop was still open and, as it was closer than either of the others, we decided to go in and see if they had anything. Many of the shelves were bare and when I asked the woman if they had any milk she did what Farnworth people do in lieu of a greeting and pretended not to hear me. Luckily Agnieszka spotted some right at the back of an open fridge and after a short debate about the sell-by date (the 12th, giving us only four days) we decided to take it.
We put it on the counter and the woman said: 'Just check it's alright. We've had some brought back.'
With that she broke the seal, took off the top, stuck her nose right up close and had a good sniff.
'Seems ok,' she said. 'Here, you try it.'
With that she handed it to Agnieszka who dutifully sniffed it, declared it ok, gave her the money and we left.
