‘You’ll be fine. I’ll bring the girls in when I can and buy something so you can practise on us.’
‘And then tell the boss how brilliant I was. I was wondering … don’t the girls ever help you with this, by the way?’ Abi says, waving the knife she’s using to chop courgettes around the kitchen. ‘I mean … not that it’s any of my business.’ She has noticed that Tara and Megan are only too happy to be waited on. Neither of them has lifted a finger since she got here.
‘I’m ashamed to say my girls have no concept of housework. They take after their mother.’ Jon smiles ruefully.
‘She was always like that,’ Abi says, laughing. ‘Even before all the … you know. She had such a sense of entitlement even then that she used to lie around watching TV and Mum’d be running about getting her stuff. It’s mad now I think about it.’
‘Well, just substitute your mum for Elena. Or me. Nothing’s changed.’
It’s funny, Abi had forgotten about that. Queen Caroline, their dad used to call her because she just had the knack of getting other people to do everything for her. No one ever argued, no one ever said ‘get it yourself’. Not even Abigail. It was just sort of accepted that she wouldn’t.
‘That’s part of what this is too, if I’m being honest.’Jon indicates the food. ‘When they were little, I was just too busy working to spend much time with them, and Cleo was still modelling, so they were brought up by nannies and housekeepers. They think it’s normal to have help. To just snap your fingers and have everything done for you because someone’s being paid to do it. So it’s not just a love of cooking that makes me leave work early every night – it’s guilt. I want them to get a bit more of a sense of how normal people live.’
‘Good for you. Although I’m not sure most normal people live in a house like this, but still …’
‘Or have a housekeeper who comes in every day, I know. But it’s better than nothing. Maybe not normal, but more normal. I’m not sure it’s working, though.’
‘I’m going to go and get them,’ Abi says, suddenly inspired by the idea of bringing her spoilt nieces back from the brink.
Jon laughs. ‘Good luck with that. Believe me, I’ve tried.’
Upstairs Megan and Tara are watching a
High School Musical
DVD in Tara’s palatial bedroom, which has its own en-suite bathroom and dressing room. Both the girls’ rooms do.
‘Who’s going to come and set the table?’ Abi says breezily.
Megan looks like she’s about to get up when Tara says, ‘You’re already helping. It doesn’t take three of us.’ Megan sits back down again, caught in the crossfire.
‘There are other things you can do. Your dad’s down there slaving away, wouldn’t it be nice to go and offer to help him?’
‘I’m watching a film,’ Tara says. ‘Sorry.’
Abi is momentarily stumped. She’s not used to children who flat out refuse to do what you tell them and, as these two aren’t her own, she doesn’t really feel she has much leverage. ‘Well, if you change your minds, you know where we are,’ she says, trying to pretend she couldn’t care less as she turns and leaves the room.
‘I see that went well,’ Jon says when she arrives back at the kitchen alone.
It’s amazing how many people go into a bookshop just to mooch around reading the books for free. It seems to Abi that it really is a lot like being in the library except that occasionally someone comes up to pay and there are no tramps asleep in the corners. Richard shows her how the till works and then gives her a box of books with which to restock the tables. It’s hardly rocket science, but that’s good because if it was then she’d be lost. As it is she feels at home almost straight away. Once they’ve topped up all the piles of books and opened a few boxes of new deliveries, Richard seems happy for her just to sit and read or chat so long as she springs into action when
‘And then tell the boss how brilliant I was. I was wondering … don’t the girls ever help you with this, by the way?’ Abi says, waving the knife she’s using to chop courgettes around the kitchen. ‘I mean … not that it’s any of my business.’ She has noticed that Tara and Megan are only too happy to be waited on. Neither of them has lifted a finger since she got here.
‘I’m ashamed to say my girls have no concept of housework. They take after their mother.’ Jon smiles ruefully.
‘She was always like that,’ Abi says, laughing. ‘Even before all the … you know. She had such a sense of entitlement even then that she used to lie around watching TV and Mum’d be running about getting her stuff. It’s mad now I think about it.’
‘Well, just substitute your mum for Elena. Or me. Nothing’s changed.’
It’s funny, Abi had forgotten about that. Queen Caroline, their dad used to call her because she just had the knack of getting other people to do everything for her. No one ever argued, no one ever said ‘get it yourself’. Not even Abigail. It was just sort of accepted that she wouldn’t.
‘That’s part of what this is too, if I’m being honest.’Jon indicates the food. ‘When they were little, I was just too busy working to spend much time with them, and Cleo was still modelling, so they were brought up by nannies and housekeepers. They think it’s normal to have help. To just snap your fingers and have everything done for you because someone’s being paid to do it. So it’s not just a love of cooking that makes me leave work early every night – it’s guilt. I want them to get a bit more of a sense of how normal people live.’
‘Good for you. Although I’m not sure most normal people live in a house like this, but still …’
‘Or have a housekeeper who comes in every day, I know. But it’s better than nothing. Maybe not normal, but more normal. I’m not sure it’s working, though.’
‘I’m going to go and get them,’ Abi says, suddenly inspired by the idea of bringing her spoilt nieces back from the brink.
Jon laughs. ‘Good luck with that. Believe me, I’ve tried.’
Upstairs Megan and Tara are watching a
High School Musical
DVD in Tara’s palatial bedroom, which has its own en-suite bathroom and dressing room. Both the girls’ rooms do.
‘Who’s going to come and set the table?’ Abi says breezily.
Megan looks like she’s about to get up when Tara says, ‘You’re already helping. It doesn’t take three of us.’ Megan sits back down again, caught in the crossfire.
‘There are other things you can do. Your dad’s down there slaving away, wouldn’t it be nice to go and offer to help him?’
‘I’m watching a film,’ Tara says. ‘Sorry.’
Abi is momentarily stumped. She’s not used to children who flat out refuse to do what you tell them and, as these two aren’t her own, she doesn’t really feel she has much leverage. ‘Well, if you change your minds, you know where we are,’ she says, trying to pretend she couldn’t care less as she turns and leaves the room.
‘I see that went well,’ Jon says when she arrives back at the kitchen alone.
It’s amazing how many people go into a bookshop just to mooch around reading the books for free. It seems to Abi that it really is a lot like being in the library except that occasionally someone comes up to pay and there are no tramps asleep in the corners. Richard shows her how the till works and then gives her a box of books with which to restock the tables. It’s hardly rocket science, but that’s good because if it was then she’d be lost. As it is she feels at home almost straight away. Once they’ve topped up all the piles of books and opened a few boxes of new deliveries, Richard seems happy for her just to sit and read or chat so long as she springs into action when
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