Ginger Hall - 'It's a nice place to live'

A pack of salt and a big bottle of syrup were all Shaneka was supposed to buy at the small community shop in Ginger Hall, Manchester. The eight-year-old was sent by her Aunt Cherry to get the items that were to be essential parts of that evening's dinner. But Shaneka, always the mischievous one, asked Miss Joan, the shopkeeper, for two packs of chewing gum as well. Miss Joan, a spunky 60-something with plump cheeks and a pointy nose was wise to Shaneka's ways. Even though her profit margin would certainly have done well with the extra sale, it seems her friendship with Cherry would not have fared the same.

"Child, why yuh must always do dat?" she asked the little girl.

"Is me yuh want Cherry fi come cuss again? It happen one time already and yuh know she don't want yuh teck har money by ching gum. Don't mek it happen again," she said, frustration clear in her eyes.

The girl shifted her weight from one leg to the other in apparent unease, but said nothing. She just kept staring up at the perplexed Miss Joan. After a few seconds of silence, both holding each other's stare, Miss Joan hissed then reached for a pack of gum on the shelf behind her. She handed it to the now-smiling little girl with specific instructions. "Just stay here and eat it. If Cherry find as much as di smell pan yuh, ah worries. Sit right here and eat it before yuh go home."

Shaneka seemed happy to oblige and sat chewing happily in a far corner of the shop.

Miss Joan started wiping the counter with a damp rag. I smiled and asked her if she realised the little girl knew all along that she would be getting the gum.

Miss Joan chuckled. "Nuh mek she hear yuh, else she nah go stop come back to me," she whispered. A man wearing a rather bold striped hat stepped into the shop. He was about 70 years old, I'd say, with muscular arms and near-perfect posture.

"Hello, my dear," he said in a booming voice. Miss Joan's face lit up and she suddenly started speaking, well, strangely.

"Long time I didn't seen you, man. I hope you is all well," she said.

The man in the hat cleared his throat. "Yes m'love. I am well. Just a touch of the arthritis you know. But I am indeed well regardless." I detected a slight British accent and asked the man if he used to live abroad. "Yes, son. For close to 40 years I lived in a place called Lewisham in England," he said. "A fine place, but a man gets the urge to return home after a while." I asked him if he was born in Ginger Hall.

"Yes, long long before you were born. The place had a lot more trees then and there were more farmers back then. Otherwise, the place is the same," he said.

I told him that I had been to the community about two years earlier and rather liked it. My return did not change how I feel.

He nodded, but didn't seem to really be listening.

The man spotted Shaneka chewing contentedly at the other side of the shop and pointed at her. "Is not Cherry girl that?" he asked.

Miss Joan turned red in the face. He glowered and shook his head.

"Is di last time I doing it. She just want a likkle something sweet," Miss Joan said. The man turned to me.

"My son, do not let this spoil what you think of here. People might not do the right thing all the time, but all in all, it's a nice place to live," he said.

Where should Robert go next? Let him know at robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com