beaming smiles. Funny. I guess I’m a bit paranoid, what with the abnormality of the circs.
‘Do come here,’ she says, ‘and let me have a look at you.’
I smile and try to stand there looking relaxed.
‘But, my dear,’ she repeats, ‘she’s chah -ming! Nothing like I would have expected, but utterly chah -ming!’
‘Thank you,’ says Rufus complacently, as if I’m some personal possession picked out from the shelves of a design shop. ‘Can I get you something to drink, Mummy? You must be dry as a bone.’
An exaggerated, languorous sigh. ‘Why, darling, I thought you’d never ask!’ she proclaims to the world. ‘Is it unconscionably early for a G and T?’
He is already heading for the kitchen door, laughing over his shoulder. ‘You must have been in transit for a good seven hours already, haven’t you? That makes it well past yardarm, in my book. Darling, do you want anything?’
‘Yeah, I’ll just have a glass of water, thanks,’ I say, then, too late, realise that I am no longer a guest in this house, that I should be doing the hospitality thing myself. Especially if I’m not going to come a gutser in front of the new family. I scuttle over to the foot of the steps, say: ‘Honey, I’ll give you a hand.’
‘No, no,’ says Rufus, ‘go and sit down. It’ll only take me a minute.’
‘Well, then,’ I say in a loud voice, ‘you sit down. I’ll sort it out.’
The minute we’re inside the door, he wraps me in a big warm hug and plants a kiss on my forehead. ‘I told you!’ he whispers. ‘I told you it would be all right! She loves you!’
‘She’s great,’ I reply, because, you know, I think she probably is. It’ll take me a while to get used to the way she expresses herself, and maybe I think she’s a little – well, silly – but she’s nothing like the gorgon that had been materialising in my mind. ‘I’m so relieved!’
‘Didn’t I tell you?’ he asks. ‘Didn’t I? Oh, Melody, I love you so much !’
‘We’d better get her drink, or she’ll be in wanting to know what’s happened. Go on, darl. You go out and keep her company. I’ll get them.’
‘You sure?’
‘Too right, mate. She’s your mother.’
‘Well … OK,’ he says. ‘Go on.’
And he kisses me again.
‘Go on yourself,’ I say.
‘In a minute.’
‘ Now .’ I take hold of his shoulder, spin him on his heel. ‘Get out of here. Go, you dill.’
‘OK. Thank you, darling.’ He walks away from me, raises his voice so he can be heard from outside, and something about the tone of his voice suggests indulgence of my whim to play house rather than gratitude for a chore taken over. ‘That would be kind. Can I have a G and T as well?’
I do a small ironical forelock tug. ‘Your wish is my command, oh lord and master,’ I say. And, lower, ‘Watch it, buster.’
He vanishes into the light, and I set about making drinks while I listen to the sound of the two of them settling down at the table. They are the kinds of voices that would be hard to avoid eavesdropping on. I should think that half of Xewkija is listening in right at this moment.
‘So tell me everything, you wicked boy,’ she says. ‘Where did you meet this blissy creature? Where did she sweep you off your feet?’
Blissy creature? I’m not a fucking Pekinese. I feel my shoulders tense. Rufus’s voice, less distinct, begins to tell her whatever the suitable story is. I hear the words ‘salt pans’ and ‘drowning’ and ‘kiss of life’, but precious little else. I don’t suppose he’ll be telling her about how we spent the first twenty minutes in this house screwing on the outer stairs because we lacked the self-control to get any further.
The limestone that makes up these islands soaks up and retains heat as though warmed by a million little underfoot furnaces. And though the nights have cooled enough now that you can turn the fan off between two and seven, the days are still blazingly hot. Not the tropical
‘Do come here,’ she says, ‘and let me have a look at you.’
I smile and try to stand there looking relaxed.
‘But, my dear,’ she repeats, ‘she’s chah -ming! Nothing like I would have expected, but utterly chah -ming!’
‘Thank you,’ says Rufus complacently, as if I’m some personal possession picked out from the shelves of a design shop. ‘Can I get you something to drink, Mummy? You must be dry as a bone.’
An exaggerated, languorous sigh. ‘Why, darling, I thought you’d never ask!’ she proclaims to the world. ‘Is it unconscionably early for a G and T?’
He is already heading for the kitchen door, laughing over his shoulder. ‘You must have been in transit for a good seven hours already, haven’t you? That makes it well past yardarm, in my book. Darling, do you want anything?’
‘Yeah, I’ll just have a glass of water, thanks,’ I say, then, too late, realise that I am no longer a guest in this house, that I should be doing the hospitality thing myself. Especially if I’m not going to come a gutser in front of the new family. I scuttle over to the foot of the steps, say: ‘Honey, I’ll give you a hand.’
‘No, no,’ says Rufus, ‘go and sit down. It’ll only take me a minute.’
‘Well, then,’ I say in a loud voice, ‘you sit down. I’ll sort it out.’
The minute we’re inside the door, he wraps me in a big warm hug and plants a kiss on my forehead. ‘I told you!’ he whispers. ‘I told you it would be all right! She loves you!’
‘She’s great,’ I reply, because, you know, I think she probably is. It’ll take me a while to get used to the way she expresses herself, and maybe I think she’s a little – well, silly – but she’s nothing like the gorgon that had been materialising in my mind. ‘I’m so relieved!’
‘Didn’t I tell you?’ he asks. ‘Didn’t I? Oh, Melody, I love you so much !’
‘We’d better get her drink, or she’ll be in wanting to know what’s happened. Go on, darl. You go out and keep her company. I’ll get them.’
‘You sure?’
‘Too right, mate. She’s your mother.’
‘Well … OK,’ he says. ‘Go on.’
And he kisses me again.
‘Go on yourself,’ I say.
‘In a minute.’
‘ Now .’ I take hold of his shoulder, spin him on his heel. ‘Get out of here. Go, you dill.’
‘OK. Thank you, darling.’ He walks away from me, raises his voice so he can be heard from outside, and something about the tone of his voice suggests indulgence of my whim to play house rather than gratitude for a chore taken over. ‘That would be kind. Can I have a G and T as well?’
I do a small ironical forelock tug. ‘Your wish is my command, oh lord and master,’ I say. And, lower, ‘Watch it, buster.’
He vanishes into the light, and I set about making drinks while I listen to the sound of the two of them settling down at the table. They are the kinds of voices that would be hard to avoid eavesdropping on. I should think that half of Xewkija is listening in right at this moment.
‘So tell me everything, you wicked boy,’ she says. ‘Where did you meet this blissy creature? Where did she sweep you off your feet?’
Blissy creature? I’m not a fucking Pekinese. I feel my shoulders tense. Rufus’s voice, less distinct, begins to tell her whatever the suitable story is. I hear the words ‘salt pans’ and ‘drowning’ and ‘kiss of life’, but precious little else. I don’t suppose he’ll be telling her about how we spent the first twenty minutes in this house screwing on the outer stairs because we lacked the self-control to get any further.
The limestone that makes up these islands soaks up and retains heat as though warmed by a million little underfoot furnaces. And though the nights have cooled enough now that you can turn the fan off between two and seven, the days are still blazingly hot. Not the tropical
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