The young woman opened the bag and took out one of the bananas. It had black spots on it. It was very ripe. Bobby hated them with black spots. He preferred them a little bit green. They were a bit drier and didn’t have as much of a banana taste off them. He couldn’t eat them at all if they had a black spot on the inside of them. ‘Can I have the greener ones instead, please?’ asked the woman. Bobby knew what she meant. The ones she had been given would be too ripe within hours. ‘If you want to choose them yourself, it’s only five for a pound.’ ‘That’s ridiculous.’ ‘That’s the way it is, if you don’t like it you can go somewhere else.’ The fruit sellers were like actresses and Bernie was queen amongst them. Her mother had been a fruit seller before her. They were constantly putting on a show. They would always be gathered in groups of two or three, and when anyone stopped at their stall they would invariably say, ‘Do you want something, love?’ like you were interrupting a good chat.
