‘Just spaghetti to conquer now and I will be queen of the kitchen.’ She looked around the rest of the room. She had used almost every pan and Tammy had used any she had missed. Luckily she still had a clean saucepan left to cook the spaghetti in but between Tammy’s pie and the Bolognese sauce the kitchen resembled the horror show that used to be the kitchenette in her student digs. She imagined Gordon Ramsey saying, ‘I don’t fucking believe it!’ She poured herself another glass of wine before starting the clean-up.
There was no separate dining room in Monica’s ground floor flat. When Eve had sold the house it was bought by a builder who did the conversion. He extended the ground floor at the back making it big enough for a kitchen diner and small bathroom, which left two decent bedrooms and a spacious living room. She also had the larger of the gardens but it was all crazy paving and the garage took up a lot of the space.
The entire kitchen would be on show while they sat at the table.
She turned off the Bolognese sauce. It was done. It looked exactly like the picture in the recipe book. She was so impressed she called Tammy to come and admire the similarity.
‘Wow,’ said Tammy. ‘It looks like a real cook made it.’ That was as close to a compliment as Tammy could manage. ‘Are we having garlic bread?’ The garlic bread was also on display in the picture, set out on an oblong dish in a neat row with each perfectly round slice resting on the one behind like dominoes.
‘I’ve got French bread,’ said Monica smiling. ‘That’ll do. Don’t push it.’
The pie crust had turned golden brown indicating that it was cooked and not burnt, which Tammy was immensely proud of as Monica took it out of the oven.
‘We did it!’ said Tammy.
‘We did indeed,’ Monica replied, as she put the pie down on the counter and gave Tammy a hug. Liz arrived an hour later with the plant under her arm. Monica was feeling a lot more relaxed after blitzing the kitchen with Tammy in tow, wiping as Monica washed. Liz gave Monica the plant as she walked into the flat.
‘Oh it’s lovely,’ said Monica, as she looked around the flat for somewhere to put it before deciding on the windowsill in the kitchen.
Tammy had set the table and the boiling water was ready to accept the spaghetti, which Monica had broken in half rather than risk burning the ends as she waited for it to melt into the water. It was all good.
Tammy and Monica were both amused by Liz’s method for testing the spaghetti was cooked. She used a fork to tease a strand out of the water and then threw it at the tiles behind the hob. It stuck, which apparently meant that it was ready to eat.
Monica drained and rinsed the spaghetti, zapped the Bolognese sauce so it was nice and hot and grated some parmesan cheese.
They all sat at the table and there was complete silence as they concentrated hard on trying to twist the spaghetti onto a fork, using a spoon as a brace. Before long they were all laughing at their failed attempts at eating quietly with Tammy giving up completely and sucking the spaghetti until her cheeks hollowed and the spaghetti disappeared into her mouth in a flash.
‘Oh no,’ said Monica, as they finished their meal. ‘I forgot the French bread.’
‘I couldn’t have eaten bread as well. It was so filling. I’ve just about got room for Tammy’s pie.’ Tammy was beaming with pride as she sashayed over to retrieve her masterpiece.
‘Every artist should sign their work,’ said Liz, observing the word Tammy in pastry on the pie crust.
Monica sliced the pie and gave a large piece to Liz and Tammy and a very small piece to herself.
‘I’m on a diet,’ she said to Liz. ‘And I mean a real diet this time, not the pizza and chips diet I used to be on. I’ll eat some more tomorrow.’
‘She is too tubby,’ chimed in Tammy, rather than use the ‘F’ word.
‘I know,’ said Monica. ‘I don’t think I’d have a weight problem if I were taller. I’m just too short.’
‘Oh, I almost forget,’ said Liz, as she pulled out three parcels from her bag. ‘This is for you.’ She gave one to Monica. ‘And these are for you,’ she said to Tammy. ‘Happy Easter.’ Monica was shocked.
‘Liz, this is too generous, you already do so much for us.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Liz replied. ‘It’s lovely having you here and you have done more for me than you know.’
Monica opened her present and looked at the labels on each of the bottles.
‘I thought they might help you relax a bit,’ said Liz.
‘I’m learning. Thank you so much,’ Monica replied. Then it was Tammy’s turn. She opened the first box. Inside was a very large chocolate rabbit.
‘Don’t eat it all at once,’ said Liz. ‘You’ll get stomach ache.’
‘Thank you,’ said Tammy. ‘I won’t, and I won’t let you have any,’ she addressed Monica who feigned a hurt expression. ‘I’m helping you,’ said Tammy by way of explanation for being mean. Then she opened the second box containing the gardening tools and gloves. Her face lit up.
‘I’ve got my own tools,’ she said to Monica, ‘and gloves.’
‘Yes, you’ll definitely need the gloves in my garden,’ said Liz. ‘We start clearing tomorrow. Oh, and I’ve got some good news, at least I hope it’s good news,’ Liz added. ‘My granddaughter, Sasha, is also coming to stay this week. She is around your age. I am sure you’ll get on well and we can all work in the garden together.’
‘Great,’ said Tammy. ‘I can’t wait.’
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ she said to Monica, ‘but Adam and Georgina are going on holiday and they were stuck for a sitter so I volunteered.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ said Monica. ‘She is your granddaughter. It will be lovely for you and for Tammy.’
They sat at the table chatting for a while, sipping wine and laughing. Tammy grabbed the catalogue to show Liz her new furniture and she then insisted on showing Liz her room now so that she would see the before and after, when the furniture arrived and the room was decorated. It was a big, bright room and Liz could see the potential.
‘I need to look for a decorator this week,’ said Monica. I would like to get it done before the furniture arrives in a couple of weeks’ time.’
Just then the phone rang and Tammy picked up the receiver. It was Molly on the phone, asking her if she could come to her house to play. Monica had met Molly’s mother quite a few times at school and was happy for Tammy to play there. She left Liz for a few minutes while she walked her round the corner to her friend’s house.
‘What time shall I collect her?’ she asked Ann, Molly’s mum.
‘No need to collect her. I’m dropping Lauren off at six thirty and I can drop Tammy off too.’ Monica thanked her and walked back round to the flat.
By the time she got there Liz had washed up the dinner plates and cutlery and had just started on the serving bowls.
‘Liz, you’re a guest,’ exclaimed Monica. ‘Come and sit down, have a glass of wine.
‘All done,’ said Liz. They took their wine and moved to the living room. They both sunk down in the well-worn sofa and breathed out a contented sigh.
‘That was a fantastic meal. You’ve come a long way.’
‘I’m getting better,’ said Monica. ‘I’m trying to be more organised and make a serious effort to lose some weight. Tammy is worried that I’ll keel over if I don’t. The trouble is I sit at a desk all day. The busier I am, the more I sit. Tammy and I have just agreed to go walking in the evenings after dinner. Why don’t you come along? Not that you need to lose weight,’ Monica added.
‘I’d like that very much,’ said Liz. ‘I used to love walking. I have sort of got out of the habit.’
‘Tammy is a fantastic motivator’, added Monica. ‘When I say motivator, I mean nagger,’ she laughed, ‘but I don’t want her to worry about anything so I am fully focused on getting thinner and healthier.’
‘Don’t you ever get lonely, Monica?’ Liz said, changing the mood.
‘Not really.
At the moment I need to concentrate on getting Tammy back to a good place where she feels safe and happy. Believe me I have kissed a lot of frogs and there are no princes out there so I don’t think I’m missing anything in particular. Besides, I need to get back to my fighting weight before I will have the confidence to even think about dating again, and all of that will have to wait until I am sure that Tammy is settled. I won’t do anything to cause her worry.’
‘She is lucky to have you,’ said Liz.
‘Actually, I think I’m lucky. She is a great kid. How about you, Liz?’ Monica’s face was serious. ‘Don’t you ever get lonely? You’ve been living by yourself in that house for a long time now. Wouldn’t you like to meet someone?’
‘Me, meet someone, at my age? I think that ship has definitely sailed.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ said Monica. ‘You look amazing and you’ve got loads of energy. You could have another twenty five years or more left. Don’t spend it on your own. If Joanna’s death has taught me anything it’s that you have to take every chance offered to you. You never know when it will be your last.’
‘I think that’s easier said than done,’ said Liz smiling. ‘Even if I wanted to meet someone, and I’m not saying that I do, I think my disco days are over. I would have no idea how to go about it. Besides, I doubt that Adam would approve.’
‘I’m sure he would like to see you happy,’ said Monica. ‘It might take some adjustment on his part but he’s a grown up, he’d get used to it.’
‘Actually you’re right,’ said Liz. ‘I just don’t think I’d have the confidence to meet anyone. Adam is just an excuse. I am even feeling a bit apprehensive about looking after Sasha, after all she hardly knows me,’ Liz confided. ‘I rarely see the children since they moved. Oh, I get a fleeting visit at Christmas and flowers on my birthday and Mother’s Day, from his secretary, I might add. But I doubt I’ve seen Sasha for more than half an hour at a time for the last few years. I think I probably made it worse after Jim died. I was so lost, I don’t think Adam could cope with my grief. It was easier for him not to see me at all.’
‘I think that’s a terrible excuse and I’m not sure that you really believe it any more than I do,’ said Monica. ‘He sounds selfish and thoughtless in the extreme. Families help each other, which means being there when you’re needed.’
‘Was it just you and Joanna?’ asked Liz. ‘Or do you have any other brothers or sisters?’ she added, trying to deflect attention away from Adam.
‘No, just us,’ said Monica. ‘Our Mum died a couple of years ago. She was seventy when she died but she had been ill for a long time. She had early onset Alzheimer’s and was in a home for the last five years. She didn’t really know us in the end.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Liz.
‘Oh, don’t be. That’s life,’ Monica continued. ‘She was a great mum. She bought us up on her own. She divorced dad twenty five years ago. He was a gambler and womaniser. He eventually married again and moved to Barbados.’
‘Do you ever see him?’ asked Liz.
‘Don’t really want to,’ said Monica. ‘Anyway, I’ve lost contact over the years. He could be dead for all I know. He knew where we were if he wanted to stay in our lives. Mum had two younger sisters and a brother and we still see them, so I have lots of cousins which is great for us.’
‘I have a brother,’ said Liz, ‘but we are not close. He emigrated to Australia thirty years ago now. He came over for Jim’s funeral, which was nice of him, but I felt as though I was talking to a stranger.’
‘Have you ever been there?’
‘Where?’ said Liz.
‘Australia. Have you thought about visiting him?’
‘No. I must admit, I haven’t thought about it. It’s so far away and I’m not keen on flying.’
‘Me neither,’ said Monica, ‘but I will have to arrange a holiday abroad soon. It was on Joanna’s list.’
‘Joanna’s list?’ repeated Liz.
‘Yes,’ said Monica. ‘Joanna gave me a list of the things she had planned to do with Tammy and they had never been abroad on holiday together. I promised to take her as many places as I could. I also promised her a party for her birthday in August. Not a small party, a big family party with uncles and aunts and all of her classmates from school.’
‘Where will you put them all?’ said Liz.
‘I have no idea,’ said Monica. ‘I expect I’ll have to hire a hall.’
‘How about my garden? It’s certainly big enough and if we can sort it out it should be presentable by August.’
‘Oh no,’ said Monica. ‘I can’t expect you to do that.’
Liz put her hand on Monica’s shoulder. ‘I would love to have a party in the garden again,’ said Liz, ‘and it would be a wonderful thank you to Tammy for all her help. Please, it’s no trouble, and apart from anything else it’s great to have a goal to work to.’
‘Are you sure, Liz?’ asked Monica. ‘We would make all the food and help as much as we can.’
‘I’m sure,’ said Liz.
Chapter 9
Monday morning saw Georgina packing a suitcase for Leo for his trip to Devon with Alex. Leo was delighted that he would be escaping his grandparents and his bossy sister to spend Easter with his best friend. He was small for his age and despite being younger was continually outmanoeuvred by Sasha. He didn’t know how to play the youngest card. If Sasha was losing an argument or caught out in some misdemeanour she would lie, and if that didn’t work feign tears. Grandpa Joe was particularly gullible so often told Leo off, despite the fact that he was usually the innocent party.
This morning it was his turn to be smug. He was going on holiday to Devon with his best friend and Sasha was staying with Grandma Liz in boring old Enfield, and worse would be gardening. Leo was really enjoying the fact that Sasha was stomping around the house, crying and throwing herself on the soft furnishings.
‘I’ll miss my horse, I’ll miss my friends,’ she wailed, overacting as if her life depended on it. Leo loved the fact that his mother didn’t seem to be paying any attention to her at all.
Georgina usually gave in to Sasha’s tantrums but not today. Her own holiday depended on the children going their respective ways and although she felt a slight tinge of guilt, especially as she regarded Grandma Liz as being slightly unstable, it wasn’t enough to prevent her from sunning herself on the beach. She put the case in the car, Leo sat in the front passenger seat and a screaming Sasha was eventually frogmarched out to sit in the back seat for the short drive.
Once Leo was delivered to his friend’s house it was home again to pack for Sasha and Adam. Georgina always did Adam’s packing. He couldn’t put matching socks on without her help, or so she thought. She was just as meticulous with Adam’s clothes as she was her own, not because Adam was incapable of packing but she wanted to make sure they didn’t clash when they were out together. She viewed him pretty much as an accessory and therefore his clothes had to compliment hers.
* * *
Tammy was up earlier than usual. On school days Monica had to virtually prise her out of bed but in the holidays she woke at dawn and was full of beans. She got up and made herself breakfast. Monica was still half asleep as it was just gone six o’clock and as the alarm clock did not go off until six thirty she was trying to force herself back to sleep. Tammy had dressed in tee shirt and jeans tucked into her wellington boots. She had a cardigan and coat on standby in the hall along with her gardening tools and gloves. She was really keen.
Monica moaned. It was no good. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t nod off. She’d have to get up. She threw on her dressing gown and stumbled sleepily into the kitchen to find Tammy already sitting at the table eating toast.
‘This is a first,’ she said, as she headed for the toaster. Tammy sprang up and told Monica to sit down, she would make the toast and Monica was very happy to oblige. Tammy put two slices of brown bread in the toaster and got the honey out of the cupboard. As soon as the
toast popped up Tammy had it on a plate and on the table.
‘No butter?’ asked Monica.
‘No,’ said Tammy. ‘Diet. Remember?’ Monica wanted to forget but Tammy wouldn’t let her.
‘I need coffee,’ said Monica, desperate to wake up. Tammy poured hot water over the granules in a cup and put the black coffee in front of Monica.
‘Have we run out of milk?’
‘No,’ said Tammy.
‘Oh, I get it,’ said Monica, ‘Starvation diet. Tammy, I am willing to give up butter, cheese, cream, pizza and every other fattening food item that I love but if you don’t pass the milk I’ll have to kill you. I can’t drink black coffee.’
‘Okay,’ said Tammy, getting the milk from the fridge, ‘but I’ll be watching the scales.’
‘We’ll have to buy some first,’ said Monica, smiling.
‘Can I go next door to Liz now?’ said Tammy.
‘No, not yet,’ Monica replied. ‘It’s not even six thirty. Liz might not be up. You can go at seven thirty when I leave for work. I’m sure that will be early enough.’
Tammy watched the clock and reminded Monica of the time every few minutes as seven thirty approached. ’I’m coming, I’m coming,’ said Monica, as Tammy was being helpful by finding Monica’s shoes and briefcase before Monica was actually looking for them.
It was a bright spring morning with a slight chill in the air. ‘You’ll need your coat,’ said Monica, as they walked up the path. ‘Have you got a waterproof?’
‘No,’ said Tammy. ‘I forgot to put one in the bag. I don’t think it matters, I’m sure we won’t be outside if it rains.’
* * *
Liz had been mentally preparing herself to tackle the garden but she was pleased that she wouldn’t be attempting it on her own. She was waiting at the door as Monica and Tammy came towards her.
Lavender Girl Page 9