Truestory
Page 19
I was sitting at the table wondering how to persuade Duncan that Larry should stay, while making it look like Duncan’s idea.
I became aware that Sam was talking again.
‘What?’ I said.
‘Einstein said time is relative. It depends on what you are doing. I am going to Jeannie’s because it might make time speed up. Plus she is old and might know about the formation of the 19th century toll roads.’ He peered at me. ‘Are your ears working?’
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘My mind’s full of other stuff.’ He was looking at his watch again then scrutinising the kitchen clock. ‘Er, anyway, yeah, let’s both go to Jeannie’s,’ I said.
We wandered down the lane and I watched the polytunnel as we passed. I wondered what was going on in there. Was Duncan still being funny with Larry? Or were they working side by side like mates? If I knew Larry, I was sure he’d be able to win Duncan round and get him to trust him again.
Sam was counting his steps aloud and as usual we got to 432 steps as we reached the ’Pile of Rubble Covered in Weeds’. Sam stopped and studied it.
‘That is an elevated position,’ he said.
‘Umm,’ I said and I nodded. It was difficult to show a lot of interest in a pile of stones, but I did my best. He studied it for another few seconds and then he shot off.
When we arrived at Jeannie’s Sam didn’t bother with a hello or a how are you? He launched straight in.
‘Jeannie, you are old. What do you know about the 19th century toll roads?’
‘Not a thing,’ said Jeannie, ‘but I know I’ve got some tarts filled with red jam,’ and, still sitting in her armchair, she shoved the plate across the table at him.
Sam examined the tarts up close, presumably looking for ‘bits’ – strawberry seeds and skin, and the like – and as he did so I saw Jeannie put a plate of tarts filled with yellow jam on the floor and cover it with a newspaper.
Jeannie wasn’t her usual self; her face had a grey tinge and she looked exhausted.
‘You all right, Jeannie?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’m fine. I’m old, is all.’
She seemed out of breath and still didn’t get up.
‘Help yourselves to lemonade,’ she said, and waved her hand towards the dresser.
There was stuff piled all over the table – even more than usual – and yet more stuff on the floor which the dogs were scattering about. They’d knocked over their sack of feed and were eating it off the floor, their tails thudding on the carpet. The cats had obviously got inside their sack of feed; there were two tails curving elegantly out of the top. A couple of other cats were lapping at dirty pots in the sink.
I shooed at them, but Jeannie waved me away.
‘Leave them, love. It’s not important.’ She gazed at the chaos and said: ‘I lost my tablets. Had to have a good search.’
She sounded even more out of breath and leant her head back.
‘Did you find them?’ I asked, and she nodded.
She’d obviously been raking around everywhere because half the cupboard doors and drawers were gaping open.
‘Are you sure you’re okay, Jeannie?’ I said.
She barely opened one eye and said: ‘I was up half the night with Elvis. He was stuck under the bed.’
Sam took one of his many maps off the wall and pushed piles of letters and envelopes and newspapers and boxes and knitting needles aside on the table to make a space to draw some adjustments.
‘What you doing, Sam?’ I thought I’d make conversation with him because it didn’t look like Jeannie wanted to chat today.
‘I am drawing contour lines,’ he said. ‘But it is difficult with the table so full. The pen keeps going in the wrong direction. Perhaps Jeannie should clear up?’
I frowned. ‘Sssh!’
‘Have a tart,’ she wheezed, peering at us both before putting her head back again and closing her eyes.
‘Jeannie?’ said Sam, and he waited for her to open her eyes. ‘Jeannie, do you think tomorrow will be a lucky day?’
‘Why?’
‘I think it will be lucky. I think it will be a fortunate day. I have something important to do.’
Jeannie did a thin, almost invisible smile and said: ‘Maybe you and me both.’
‘What have you got to do that’s important?’ asked Sam, but Jeannie did not answer. ‘Are you planning to do some magic?’ he said. There was a long pause.
‘Take care, Sam,’ she said. ‘I’m sure everything will work out for you. You take care.’ Then she closed her eyes again.
‘Are you going to tell me stories about your adventures in the Orient or in the olden times or with the space aliens?’ he said.
‘Ssh, Sam,’ I said. ‘I don’t think Jeannie’s up to it today, and don’t have any more tarts – that’s your fifth.’
Sam munched on his tart and gazed at the dozing Jeannie. ‘Perhaps she is trying to empty her mind,’ he said, reaching for a sixth.
‘No, Sam. That’s enough. We need to leave Jeannie in peace. She’s worn out by all these animals keeping her up half the night.’
‘Have you put anything else on your wish list, Jeannie?’ Sam said in an extra loud voice and he studied her to see if she responded.
‘I think she smiled,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I think she did.’
We looked back through the window as we walked away and saw that two cats had jumped on her knee and were kneading her chest trying to turn her into a great big bed.
‘It is good that Jeannie has cats to keep her warm,’ said Sam. Then he broke into a trot, loudly counting his steps as he went. He waited at the Pile of Stones Covered in Weeds.
‘The small trees in leaf have begun to sway which means the wind is at number five on the Beaufort scale.’
I pulled an ‘impressed’ face. ‘You’ve been doing your Geography.’
‘If the wind gets any stronger it will make the electricity wires whistle,’ he said, ‘and be number six on the Beaufort scale.’ He clapped his hands over his ears and set off at a gallop to race home.
There was no pasta left for lunch and when I told him he looked stricken.
‘I’ll make ham butties,’ I said. ‘No mustard.’
He considered the offer.
‘I hope tomorrow is luckier than today,’ he said. ‘Today I will have to have ham sandwiches but they must be cut into equilateral triangles and not squares because they taste better as equilateral triangles. Not squares.’
I nodded, managing not to roll my eyes.
‘Or if the bread is rectangular rather than square you can cut them into right-angled triangles.’
‘So what’s this important thing you’ve got to do tomorrow?’ I was rooting in the fridge searching for ham. He didn’t answer. I glanced round but he was wrapped in his own thoughts, staring into the middle distance, and for the moment I’d lost him.
I gave him his butties and he took the top off one triangle to examine it.
I sighed, a loud bad-tempered sigh.
‘These are right-angled triangles but they are not ham. These are corned beef.’ He looked at me like I’d committed a terrible crime against sandwiches. ‘Corned beef is bits of meat mashed up and squashed. It is not ham.’
‘It’s nearly ham!’
‘Corned beef is cow meat not pig meat. It could never be ham.’
‘For Goodness sake, get it eaten. Think yourself lucky you’ve got some lunch.’
Larry had arrived inside as this was going on.
‘Do you like cooking, Alice?’ he said, knocking off his boots.
‘It comes somewhere on my list of favourite things after washing the car and trimming the holly hedge – neither of which I’d dream of doing in a month of Sundays. So what do you think?’ And we both laughed.
‘I did not know you had a list of favourite things,’ said Sam. ‘What is a month of Sundays?’
‘Oh, nothing.’
‘I’ll throw togethe
r one of my world-famous pasta sauces later if you like,’ Larry said. ‘Would that be good?’
‘It certainly would,’ I said. ‘You’re a guy with many talents.’
‘I will Google your world-famous pasta sauce,’ Sam said, and we laughed again.
Duncan wandered in and we stopped laughing. Larry talked to him about soil testing in the polytunnel and keeping mice from eating the plants and the dangers of spider mites and aphid attacks. He made it sound as if there would be an all-action movie going on in there when the plants were growing.
Duncan was quiet and listened, chewing hard on his butties. I didn’t know if growing cannabis was really as complicated as Larry was making out or if he was exaggerating, to stop Duncan pressing him to leave.
Anyway Duncan was obviously taking it all on board because he said they should pick up some pest repellent and chicken wire and other things to protect the plants they’d just planted out. Larry said yes, good idea; so, after lunch when Sam went upstairs, Duncan and Larry disappeared in the Land Rover.
I decided to make a cheese and onion pie while they were out. I worked on it in a trance, nearly grating my finger-ends off. I found some orange cheese in the freezer, hoping that Sam would eat the pie if it wasn’t too yellow.
When I’d finished, it looked rubbish – sort of mottled and flat with hard brown bits round the edge. Well, I’d never claimed to be a cook.
I knew I should go and check on Sam’s schoolwork but I couldn’t be bothered. Sam was quiet; I might as well let sleeping dogs lie.
My mind was packed with Larry; I couldn’t get enough of him. Yet it was only two and a half weeks since I’d first set eyes on him and thought he looked like something the cat had dragged in. What if Duncan hadn’t gone to the pub that night? What if he’d done what I said and got rid of Larry first thing the next morning?
Life before Larry seemed far away, distant and lonely; it was like looking at a life through the wrong end of a telescope. And it was a life I did not want to go back to.
There was the rumble of the Land Rover as it pulled into the yard and my heart lurched. I filled the kettle and stood with my back to the door as they came in.
I grabbed the tea bags and tried to look busy, plopping three in the pot and getting the milk out of the fridge. They were talking about the best way to put up plant supports and I could tell right away that the afternoon spent with Larry had given Duncan his enthusiasm back.
‘What you been up to?’ Duncan grinned at me as he flung his jacket over a chair back.
‘Bit of cooking . . .’
Everybody looked at the greasy pie sitting on the table and there was a heavy silence.
‘What?’ I said, even though I knew it looked like a pile of ingredients that had died a sad death at the hands of a terrible cook.
‘Anybody got any shoes that need mending?’ said Duncan, prodding it and laughing. Then he turned to me and ruffled my hair.
‘I’m only pulling your leg, love.’ He plonked himself down at the table.
Larry grinned at me and winked and I smiled back. At least Duncan wasn’t sulking any more.
‘I’ll knock together a sauce for tomorrow’s tea,’ said Larry. ‘See what you think of that.’
‘Summat else you’re good at?’ asked Duncan.
Larry laughed. ‘I’m no bad, though I say it as shouldn’t.’
‘What stuff do you need for it?’ I asked.
‘Whatever you’ve got.’
We drank our tea. They’d brought back chicken wire and a load of powders and pellets to keep the pests away. Larry told Duncan how you knew when the flowers were ripe and ready to harvest and the drying and preserving that would need to be done after that. It all started sounding a bit complicated again.
When Duncan went out to milk, Larry said: ‘So where do you keep your herbs?’
I looked at him. Herbs?
‘For the sauce. I might as well do it now.’
I thought about it; there were some sticky jars in the pantry left behind by Duncan’s mother.
Larry followed me to the pantry and I flicked the light on. It was a narrow room with long shelves down either side covered in sticky half-empty jars of unusable stuff like ‘baking glaze’ and packets of angelica and gelatine and faded hundreds-and-thousands alongside bun cases and icing bags and doilies and other mysterious things abandoned donkey’s years ago and belonging to someone else’s life. It smelled sweet – of generations of Christmas puddings and birthday cakes and sherry trifles. There was no window in the pantry – only a tiny aperture high up, covered in mesh. I heard Larry click the door shut behind us.
‘Come here,’ he said.
He had his back to the door with his weight against it and he held his arms out. I walked to him, pressed myself against him and kissed him as though I hadn’t kissed anyone for a lifetime.
Chapter 38
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How can I make my lucky day even luckier?
Truestory
Date: 18 June 2014
Time: 14.20
Tomorrow is my lucky day and I am doing the most important thing I have ever done. How can I make my lucky day even luckier?
Re: How can I make my lucky day even luckier?
Root Toot
Date: 18 June 2014
Time: 14.23
You can avoid cracks and black cats and touch wood all day long and it won’t make any darned difference – but if you believe it’s going to be a lucky day then that’s what it will be.
Re: How can I make my lucky day even luckier?
DiamondSky
Date: 18 June 2014
Time: 14.27
Hey if it’s your Lucky Day try some on-line roulette – Here’s crossing my fingers for you man.
Re: How can I make my lucky day even luckier?
NoShitSherlock
Date: 18 June 2014
Time: 14.33
We create our own luck. The secret is to grab the good opportunities that crop up every day. Keep your eyes open, Truestory, and FIND the luck that’s right there in front of you.
Re: How can I make my lucky day even luckier?
Fizzy Mascara
Date: 18 June 2014
Time: 14.39
Lucky charms and all those kinds of bollocks are just placebo effects. In other words if you believe in them they might work for you but don’t rely too much on the Good Luck Fairy. It was either Prince Philip or Confucius or some other old bloke who said: ‘the harder I work the luckier I get’. It’s all in the planning.
Re: How can I make my lucky day even luckier?
Sweet Cheeks
Date: 18 June 2014
Time: 14.44
Hey Truestory I just checked on line and the luckiest hours tomorrow are between 9 and 11. The unluckiest are 2 til 5 in the afternoon, so whatever you are doing (asking someone out?!!) do it between 9 and 11. Hope it all works out for you Truestory. xxx
Re: How can I make my lucky day even luckier?
ChocolateMoustache
Date: 18 June 2014
Time: 14.46
Hi Truestory Some good points made above. People say it’s lucky to be in the right place at the right time – but it’s really about being in the right place at the right time in the right frame of mind. Be positive, Truestory, and all will be well! I hope your venture is a great success.
Re: How can I make my lucky day even luckier?
xxLove wordsxx
Date: 18 June 2014
Time: 14.49
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Re: How can I make my lucky day even luckier?
Truestory
Date: 18 June 2014
Time: 14.5
3
Thank you Sweet Cheeks. That is useful information for flying down Hell Fire Pass.
Re: How can I make my lucky day even luckier?
Sweet Cheeks
Date: 18 June 2014
Time: 14.57
Glad to help, Truestory!
Wow!! Flying down Hell Fire Pass! That sounds like a theme park or something. Have fun and hope It all works out on your travels.
Re: How can I make my lucky day even luckier?
Earn $$$$$$
Date: 18 June 2014
Time: 15.05
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Re: How can I make my lucky day even luckier?
Truestory
Date: 18 June 2014
Time: 15.10
Dear Earn $$$$$$, I do not want to earn $$$$$$$$ from the comfort of my own home. I want to get away from my home. That is the problem. But thank you for the offer.
Chapter 39
I came out of the pantry and only just stopped myself shrieking when the first thing I saw was Sam parked at the kitchen table, eyes fixed on the pantry door, holding his fork and spoon in his fists.
It was heading towards five thirty and he looked worried about the lack of tea-making going on. It was a wonder he wasn’t wearing a big white hankie knotted round his neck.
‘We were looking for ingredients,’ I said, before realising I wasn’t carrying any. ‘Er, we need some ingredients for Larry’s sauce.’ I about-turned and went back into the pantry. Larry followed. ‘For God’s sake,’ I hissed, ‘he haunts me. I can’t do any-bloody-thing without him being there.’
‘Well, you can’t say you haven’t been warned that he likes to eat at half five.’ Larry smoothed a wisp of my hair back and kissed my forehead. ‘Let’s cook,’ he said, scanning a dusty spice rack of jars of what looked like faded grass cuttings.