Eleanor’s head shot up. Instantly alert. She was just doing some shopping to stock up on some light dinner foods, when that voice, his voice, cut through the commissary. Mr. Shingleton! It had been years since she had heard it, and it was only fond memories that came with it, but she was so surprised to hear it here, in this place. But on the other hand, she shouldn’t have been surprised: if he was here, he would be cut off from everything he had before, and… well, there was a reason he had needed an assistant, something he wouldn’t have here either. Apparently, he wasn’t adjusting very well to this. She looked over just in time to see him placing a couple of bottles of wine on the shelf before he went back to the front door.
“I got this,” she assured Joe, and went to pick up two different bottles of wine that she knew would be more to Mr. Shingleton’s liking, than the ones he had originally picked up. Quickly she paid for her purchases and hurried after him.
“Mr. Shingleton,” she called after him once she got outside, and needed him to stop before he turned the corner.