with an elephant in every room. It was practically our family pet.
CHAPTER FIVE
GrÈve
I took my time getting dressed, knowing that there was very little else I was going to be able to do that day. I stood shivering in the avocado-coloured bath as the hot water trickled down with all the power of baby drool, and I longed for my pink iridescent mosaic-tiled wet room with six power-shower jets and plasma in the wall.
By the time I had managed to wash out all of the shampoo—I couldn’t be bothered battling with conditioner—dried my hair and arrived downstairs for breakfast, Arthur was scraping the last of the food from his plate. I wondered if Rosaleen had told him about what happened in Mum’s bedroom. Perhaps not because if he was in anyway a decent brother, he’d be currently doing something about it. I don’t think tipping the base of a tea cup with his oversized nose was going to fix much.
‘Morning, Arthur,’ I said.
‘Morning,’ he said, into the bottom of his tea cup.
Rosaleen, the busy domestic bee, immediately jumped into action and came at me with giant oven gloves on her hands.
I lightly boxed each of her hands. She didn’t get the joke.Without a word, or a twitch, or a movement of any kind in Arthur’s face, I sensed he got it.
‘I’ll just have cereal, please, Rosaleen,’ I said, looking around. ‘I’ll get it, if you tell me where it is.’ I started opening the cupboards, trying to find the cereal, then had to take a step back when I came across a double cupboard filled from top to bottom with jars of honey. There must have been over a hundred jars.
‘Whoa.’ I stepped back from the opened cupboards. ‘Have you got, like, honey OCD?’
Rosaleen looked confused, but smiled and handed me a cup of tea. ‘Sit yourself down there, I’ll bring you your breakfast. Sister Ignatius gives the honey to me,’ she smiled.
Unfortunately I was taking a sip of tea when she said that and I choked on it as I started laughing. Tea came spurting out my nose. Arthur handed me a napkin, and looked at me with amusement.
‘You’ve a sister called Ignatius?’ I laughed loudly. ‘She’s totally got a man’s name. Is she a tranny?’ I shook my head, still giggling.
‘A tranny?’ Rosaleen asked, forehead crumpled.
I burst out laughing, then stopped abruptly when her smile immediately faded, she closed the kitchen cabinets and went to the aga for my breakfast. She placed a plate piled high with bacon, sausages, eggs, beans, pudding and mushrooms in the middle of the table. I hoped her sister Ignatius was going to join me for breakfast because there was no way I was going to finish this alone. Then she disappeared, flitted about behind me, and came back with a plate piled high with toast.
‘Oh, no, that’s okay. I don’t eat carbs,’ I said as politely as I could.
‘Carbs?’ Rosaleen asked.
‘Carbohydrates,’ I explained. ‘They bloat me.’
Arthur placed his cup on the saucer and looked out at me from under his bushy eyebrows.
‘Arthur, you don’t look anything like Mum at all.’
Rosaleen dropped a jar of honey on the floor tiles, which made me and Arthur jump and turn around. Surprisingly, it didn’t smash. Rosaleen, at top speed, continued on and placed jam, honey and marmalade before me and a plate of scones.
‘You’re a growing girl, you need your food.’
‘The only growing I want right now is here.’ I gestured at my 34B chest. ‘And unless I stuff my bra with black and white pudding, this breakfast isn’t going to make that happen.’
It was Arthur’s turn to choke on his tea. Not wanting to insult them any further, I took a slice of bacon, a sausage and a tomato.
‘Go on, have more,’ Rosaleen said, watching my plate.
I looked at Arthur in horror.
‘Give her time to eat that,’ Arthur said quietly, getting to his feet with his plates in his hands.
‘Leave that down.’ Rosaleen fussed around him, and I felt like grabbing a fly-swatter and attacking
CHAPTER FIVE
GrÈve
I took my time getting dressed, knowing that there was very little else I was going to be able to do that day. I stood shivering in the avocado-coloured bath as the hot water trickled down with all the power of baby drool, and I longed for my pink iridescent mosaic-tiled wet room with six power-shower jets and plasma in the wall.
By the time I had managed to wash out all of the shampoo—I couldn’t be bothered battling with conditioner—dried my hair and arrived downstairs for breakfast, Arthur was scraping the last of the food from his plate. I wondered if Rosaleen had told him about what happened in Mum’s bedroom. Perhaps not because if he was in anyway a decent brother, he’d be currently doing something about it. I don’t think tipping the base of a tea cup with his oversized nose was going to fix much.
‘Morning, Arthur,’ I said.
‘Morning,’ he said, into the bottom of his tea cup.
Rosaleen, the busy domestic bee, immediately jumped into action and came at me with giant oven gloves on her hands.
I lightly boxed each of her hands. She didn’t get the joke.Without a word, or a twitch, or a movement of any kind in Arthur’s face, I sensed he got it.
‘I’ll just have cereal, please, Rosaleen,’ I said, looking around. ‘I’ll get it, if you tell me where it is.’ I started opening the cupboards, trying to find the cereal, then had to take a step back when I came across a double cupboard filled from top to bottom with jars of honey. There must have been over a hundred jars.
‘Whoa.’ I stepped back from the opened cupboards. ‘Have you got, like, honey OCD?’
Rosaleen looked confused, but smiled and handed me a cup of tea. ‘Sit yourself down there, I’ll bring you your breakfast. Sister Ignatius gives the honey to me,’ she smiled.
Unfortunately I was taking a sip of tea when she said that and I choked on it as I started laughing. Tea came spurting out my nose. Arthur handed me a napkin, and looked at me with amusement.
‘You’ve a sister called Ignatius?’ I laughed loudly. ‘She’s totally got a man’s name. Is she a tranny?’ I shook my head, still giggling.
‘A tranny?’ Rosaleen asked, forehead crumpled.
I burst out laughing, then stopped abruptly when her smile immediately faded, she closed the kitchen cabinets and went to the aga for my breakfast. She placed a plate piled high with bacon, sausages, eggs, beans, pudding and mushrooms in the middle of the table. I hoped her sister Ignatius was going to join me for breakfast because there was no way I was going to finish this alone. Then she disappeared, flitted about behind me, and came back with a plate piled high with toast.
‘Oh, no, that’s okay. I don’t eat carbs,’ I said as politely as I could.
‘Carbs?’ Rosaleen asked.
‘Carbohydrates,’ I explained. ‘They bloat me.’
Arthur placed his cup on the saucer and looked out at me from under his bushy eyebrows.
‘Arthur, you don’t look anything like Mum at all.’
Rosaleen dropped a jar of honey on the floor tiles, which made me and Arthur jump and turn around. Surprisingly, it didn’t smash. Rosaleen, at top speed, continued on and placed jam, honey and marmalade before me and a plate of scones.
‘You’re a growing girl, you need your food.’
‘The only growing I want right now is here.’ I gestured at my 34B chest. ‘And unless I stuff my bra with black and white pudding, this breakfast isn’t going to make that happen.’
It was Arthur’s turn to choke on his tea. Not wanting to insult them any further, I took a slice of bacon, a sausage and a tomato.
‘Go on, have more,’ Rosaleen said, watching my plate.
I looked at Arthur in horror.
‘Give her time to eat that,’ Arthur said quietly, getting to his feet with his plates in his hands.
‘Leave that down.’ Rosaleen fussed around him, and I felt like grabbing a fly-swatter and attacking
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