A Pork Pie Robbery

She sat in the bath with the tears running down her cheeks and the
pork pie clasped in both hands.

Taking a bite into the salty soft meat. Crumbs of crust fall into the
water. She weeps at that too.

There is a knock at the door.
'Mum, Dad says are you alright?'
Swallowing the mouthful of pie she calls out a snot filled 'yes I'm
fine.'

A pause. She can hear her son's breathing on the other side of the
door.
'When are you coming out?'
She clears her throat,
'When I've had my bath. Now go downstairs and finish your
dinner.'
Another pause.
'I can't&;#8230;..'
She looks guiltily at the pie, a large gash in it's side, teethmarks in
the pastry&;#8230;&;#8230;&;#8230;'Daddy will get you another
one.'

She hears more heavy breathing and then the sound of the child moving
away from the door and down the stairs.

Turning on the hot tap with her toes she takes another bite. More
crumbs in the water emerging to bob around her kneecaps.

Hot water burns her feet as she chews a buttery piece of pork; pastry
flakes fall onto her lips.

There is another knock at the door. Turning off the tap she swallows
her second mouthful.
'Yes?'
'Dad says there aren't any more.'
She looks at the pie, two large bites revealing mottled pink
flesh.
'Ask Daddy to give you something else to eat.'
This time there is no pause 'Can I have McDonalds?'
'Ask Daddy.'
The child runs quickly down the stairs his breath quick with
excitement.

Drawing her knees up to her chest she rests the pie on the flatish
surface they provide as she draws the hot water to her with her hands.
Folds of fat form underneath her breasts and her belly pushes up
against her thighs.

The tears start again. She counts three fat rolls through the sobs. She
takes her third bite of the pie the thick crust crisp on top but soft
and yielding underneath.

She had been in the bathroom for quite some time looking at it, the
pie, resisting the knocks and pleas. She knew she was going to eat it
but kept pretending that she was only looking all the same.

Her husband had come up twice and rattled the handle. On the second
handle rattle she ran the bath, making her long stay in the bathroom
legitimate, buying herself some time.

As she took off her clothes she knew that she would it in the
bath.

As she climbed in she caught sight of her dimpled thighs in the mirror,
the pie clutched in one hand. It was then that she started to
cry.

She had chosen the pies carefully. They were to be a treat. Melton
Mowbray. Dark brown buttery crust, not too much jelly and soft pink
meat with no gristle. She bought two of them, enough for two children
and a husband.

She would not be having one herself.

She would prepare the food, lay the tables and place the pies on the
plates but she would have eaten already. Something small and
light.

This all went according to plan. They came in and sat down. She hovered
around the table fussing, making sure everybody had
everything&;#8230;&;#8230;eyeing the pie.

Her husband cut into the first one. The knife cutting sharply through
the pastry and then muffled by the meat. He helped himself dutifully to
salad and asked if she was going to sit down.

Biting into the pie he looked up at her, chewing.
'It's good.'
A flake of pastry escaped as he spoke.

Saliva started to flow and her stomach churned as it tried to content
itself on cottage cheese and ryvita.

Her youngest child waved a knife at the second pie.
'It's ok Mummy will help you.'
Holding the pie with one hand she felt it sitting solidly beneath her
grasp as she brandished the knife and prepared to slice.

Three eager faces peered at her over there empty plates.

She raised the knife above the pie. Their gaze followed the knife. She
paused for dramatic effect before bringing the knife down towards the
pie.

As the blade reached the crust her stomach let out a loud and desperate
gurgle.

The children giggled and her husband smaned. At his sman their
giggles turned into loud laughter.

She put down the knife and looked at them all; her husband's face full
of pie her children's eyes wide with greed and her own stomach's
emptiness a source of general amusement.

Her hunger was a joke for all the family as they gorged themselves on
Melton Mowbray. They disgusted her all of them. She had picked out
their dinner with the greatest of care and they wolfed it down without
a thought, pausing only to laugh at her emptiness.

Lifting the pie off the plate she ran out of the kitchen, up the stairs
and into the bathroom locking the door behind her,

It was not long before the knocking started.

Blowing her nose she turns on the hot tap again. She holds the last
piece of pie in her hands.

Putting it into her mouth she watches herself in the mirror as she
chews slowly, delaying the swallowing until her mouth is crammed full
of soft sweet pork pie.

Pastry flakes float past her ankles as she brushes the crumbs from her
lips.