mattress for Samantha … do we know where the air pump is?’ The air pump? I have no idea what she is on about.
‘What’s wrong with Samantha kipping in a sleeping bag on the carpet?’
‘Hah!’ is all she answers. She gives me a knowing look. Then she runs on; ‘… the other thing is, I only bought you and Jack a crown of turkey breast for your Christmas dinner.’ The implications of having an extra three people stay are spreading through her mind as quick as wild-fire. ‘You’ll have to give them extra-large portions of roast potatoes tomorrow, Rose. Don’t forget the sprouts and the carrots and parsnips. Mind that you peel enough …’
‘I’ll peel a hundred,’ I assure her, ‘I’ll peel a thousand.’
‘Don’t do that!’ She says in alarm. ‘There’s Boxing Day to think of, too. And maybe even the day after that. I’m not back till the New Year don’t forget. I’ll have to get the emergency loo-roll down from the loft.’
‘You keep some in the loft?’ I look at her in surprise.
‘For emergencies,’ she nods. And there is clearly an emergency looming in her book. Or there will be in a few days when we run out of potatoes and looroll …
‘Do you really think the trains will be out for as long as that?’ I look at her dubiously. ‘The family could be here for days!’ She nods dolefully but I can see the possibilities opening up here. We’ll all get a chance to catch up, properly catch up. There are so many things I don’t really know about their lives. It’s … exciting, that’s what it is.
And I’ll get plenty of time to put my case to uncle Ty.
‘The air-mattress must be up there as well,’ Mrs P is thinking out loud. ‘I don’t know where else I could have put it. There’s scarcely room to swing a cat in this joint. If we could only open up your mum’s old room…’
I turn sharply from the kitchen cupboard where I’ve just put away the dried cups.
‘You know we don’t use that room, Mrs P’
‘Not normally, no’ S he’s drying her hands thoughtfully on her wet tea-towel.
‘Not ever, Mrs P’ Her pale blue eyes come up to meet mine for an instant, but whatever she’s thinking, she keeps it firmly to herself. I want the family here. I’m happy that they’re here. But I don’t want them poking around in Mum’s room, moving her things about, disturbing stuff. That room is out of bounds. Mrs P gives a small ‘humph’ like she does on the very odd occasion when I ever have to cross her. We get along very well, but at the end of the day, she doesn’t have the final say in things.
‘Opening that room would just … spook Carlotta out,’ I remind her kindly. ‘Remember the time when Mum was sick and they came by?’ It wasn’t long after Mrs P had started with us but I know she hasn’t forgotten. That day Ty had dropped by with his wife, knowing Mum was ill, to ‘see if they could do anything to help’. The whole visit had been made awkward and painful by Carlotta’s obvious discomfort at catching sight of some of Mum’s things in her room as they’d walked past it in the hall. I think she saw the crystal ball or some such thing, some tall candles that had been left burning in the darkened room, anyway, she freaked out; she made the unfortunate comment that she thought ‘all that kind of thing’ was the work of the devil. They hadn’t stayed for very long.
‘She won’t want to stay in there, Mrs P.’
‘Well, I don’t honestly know where else you think you’d have the space to put them up.’ I shrug.
‘There’s the sitting room isn’t there? The adults can have my room and I’ll kip out in th ere with Sam. It’ll be fun .’
She looks a little dubious. ‘As long as you don’t forget all the usual routines, with all the fun. Your dad’s meds ...’
His meds. The minute she mentions them a memory breaks through from yesterday, something I’ve been meaning to bring up with her all morning but we’ve been so
‘What’s wrong with Samantha kipping in a sleeping bag on the carpet?’
‘Hah!’ is all she answers. She gives me a knowing look. Then she runs on; ‘… the other thing is, I only bought you and Jack a crown of turkey breast for your Christmas dinner.’ The implications of having an extra three people stay are spreading through her mind as quick as wild-fire. ‘You’ll have to give them extra-large portions of roast potatoes tomorrow, Rose. Don’t forget the sprouts and the carrots and parsnips. Mind that you peel enough …’
‘I’ll peel a hundred,’ I assure her, ‘I’ll peel a thousand.’
‘Don’t do that!’ She says in alarm. ‘There’s Boxing Day to think of, too. And maybe even the day after that. I’m not back till the New Year don’t forget. I’ll have to get the emergency loo-roll down from the loft.’
‘You keep some in the loft?’ I look at her in surprise.
‘For emergencies,’ she nods. And there is clearly an emergency looming in her book. Or there will be in a few days when we run out of potatoes and looroll …
‘Do you really think the trains will be out for as long as that?’ I look at her dubiously. ‘The family could be here for days!’ She nods dolefully but I can see the possibilities opening up here. We’ll all get a chance to catch up, properly catch up. There are so many things I don’t really know about their lives. It’s … exciting, that’s what it is.
And I’ll get plenty of time to put my case to uncle Ty.
‘The air-mattress must be up there as well,’ Mrs P is thinking out loud. ‘I don’t know where else I could have put it. There’s scarcely room to swing a cat in this joint. If we could only open up your mum’s old room…’
I turn sharply from the kitchen cupboard where I’ve just put away the dried cups.
‘You know we don’t use that room, Mrs P’
‘Not normally, no’ S he’s drying her hands thoughtfully on her wet tea-towel.
‘Not ever, Mrs P’ Her pale blue eyes come up to meet mine for an instant, but whatever she’s thinking, she keeps it firmly to herself. I want the family here. I’m happy that they’re here. But I don’t want them poking around in Mum’s room, moving her things about, disturbing stuff. That room is out of bounds. Mrs P gives a small ‘humph’ like she does on the very odd occasion when I ever have to cross her. We get along very well, but at the end of the day, she doesn’t have the final say in things.
‘Opening that room would just … spook Carlotta out,’ I remind her kindly. ‘Remember the time when Mum was sick and they came by?’ It wasn’t long after Mrs P had started with us but I know she hasn’t forgotten. That day Ty had dropped by with his wife, knowing Mum was ill, to ‘see if they could do anything to help’. The whole visit had been made awkward and painful by Carlotta’s obvious discomfort at catching sight of some of Mum’s things in her room as they’d walked past it in the hall. I think she saw the crystal ball or some such thing, some tall candles that had been left burning in the darkened room, anyway, she freaked out; she made the unfortunate comment that she thought ‘all that kind of thing’ was the work of the devil. They hadn’t stayed for very long.
‘She won’t want to stay in there, Mrs P.’
‘Well, I don’t honestly know where else you think you’d have the space to put them up.’ I shrug.
‘There’s the sitting room isn’t there? The adults can have my room and I’ll kip out in th ere with Sam. It’ll be fun .’
She looks a little dubious. ‘As long as you don’t forget all the usual routines, with all the fun. Your dad’s meds ...’
His meds. The minute she mentions them a memory breaks through from yesterday, something I’ve been meaning to bring up with her all morning but we’ve been so
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