Back to Contents

LEG OF LAMB It was May 1st."This leg of lamb," I said to the young girl assistant in charge of the 'reduced to clear' gun at the Co-op Late Shop. "I see that it reaches its sell-by date tomorrow."      She looked at the label. "That's right. May 2nd."     I was making my frst attempt at getting a supermarket assistant to put a 'reduced to clear' sticker onto something that hadn't yet outlived its shelf life. Not wishing to be too brazen about it by asking her to reduce the price of something that was still some way to being out of date, I had picked on something that would very soon be receiving a 'reduced to clear' sticker in the normal course of events. I checked my watch. "Well it's nine forty-five p.m. now and you close at ten," I said, "so it's very unlikely that anyone will buy it now. And tomorrow you'll be putting a 'reduced to clear' sticker on it. So I was wondering, if it isn't too much trouble, if you could see your way to putting one on now?"      I was going to write 'You would have thought from her expression that I had asked her to show her bare bottom in the High Street' but it occurred to me that most girls of her age now do show a good proportion of their bare bottoms in the High Street as a matter of course, and that to show all of it wouldn't make a great deal of difference, so I will just say that she looked at me with absolute amazement. "I can't do that!" she said.      This was the answer I had been expecting, so I was ready for her. "I am not a rich man," I said, "as you can see from my clothes". I had taken the trouble to dress in the oldest clothes I could find and before entering the Late Shop had rolled over a couple of times in their car park, which was dirty as usual, and this added to my shabby appearance. "So lamb is a luxury for me, unless it's a bit of scrag end," I continued. "However it is my dear wife's birthday tomorrow and ever since we were married forty-odd year ago I have cooked for her a leg of lamb dinner with all the trimmings to celebrate the occasion. Sadly I lost my job five years ago and have been unable to find employment since. Even B&Q turned me down. Things have been a bit tight to say the least. Despite that however I have always managed somehow or other to scrape together enough money to buy a leg of lamb for my wife's birthday treat. And I had managed to do so again this year but this morning the gas man called and threatened to cut us off if I didn't pay an outstanding bill, and I hadn't got enough to pay it without the leg of lamb money so I had to use that. Well if I hadn't we wouldn't have had any gas to cook the leg of lamb anyway, and at least by paying the gas bill we would have heat to warm us in our old age, even if we were hungry."      "You could have cooked it in the microwave," the girl said, helpfully.      "Re-possessed long ago," I replied immediately, and added, just in case she should suggest them, "Along with the electric frying-pan and the Primas stove."      "What a pity," she said, with genuine concern.      "Yes," I agreed. "A pity. But a greater pity is that this is the last time I would ever be cooking a leg of lamb for her birthday, as the doctor has given her only six weeks to live."      A tear ran down her cheek. She looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was looking, then quickly put a 'reduced to clear' sticker on the leg of lamb and wrote '£1' in the price column. Then, with the same eye that had moments before shed a tear, she winked at me and was gone.      The leg of lamb was lovely, I did it with a butter, breadcrumbs, garlic and fresh rosemary crust with a few roast vegetables.