Love, Nina (14 page)

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

One of Mary-Kay's brainbox mates dropped by unexpectedly on Saturday for an impromptu coffee stop (his words). His friend or his wife was looking at something in Primrose Hill—it might have been property or crockery, none of us quite heard (he can't pronounce his Rs) and he couldn't face whatever it was and thought he'd pop in.

Brainbox: Hello, Mary-Kay!

MK: Oh, right.

BB: Can't stay long.

MK: Good.

S&W and me tried to impress him and sang “We're On Our Way”—the whole thing, all through, harmoniously. I was almost in tears when we finished, it sounded so good.

MK: (
very pleased
) Sing it again. (
To Brainbox
) Did you like that?

BB: Um, it's a bit “old hat.”

MK: Better than
no
hat.

S&W and me: “We're on our way, we are Ron's 22. Hear the roar of the red, white and blue, this time, more than any other time, this time, we're going to find a way, find a way to get away, this time, bringing it all together, to bring it home.”

MK: (
clapping
).

BB: (
looking at watch
) OK, thanks for the coffee, must run.

Later on, supper was ready at a slightly earlier time due to it being Mary-Kay's turn and her getting it done.

Sam: Shall I ring he-llo (
his name for AB
)?

MK: Yes.

Sam:
(on phone to AB)
He-llo, sup-per's ready—(
covers mouthpiece, speaks to MK
) he says it's a bit early.

MK: What the fuck?

Sam: (
to AB
) She says what the fuck?

At supper:

AB: How's the studying going?

Me: Fine.

MK: Except she hates everything.

Me: No, I don't. Only Hardy.

MK: And Shakespeare and Chaucer.

Me: No, I'm OK with Chaucer now.

AB: What's wrong with Hardy?

Me: It's this little picture you see everywhere of his round head.

AB: I don't think you should hold that against him.

Sam (
changing the subject
): I hate it when people climb trees.

Me: Why?

Sam: It just annoys me.

Me: I know what you mean.

MK: I like it.

Sam: Why?

Me: I suppose it's one less person on the ground.

MK: No. I like people in trees.

Love, Nina

PS MK has given (lent) me a book,
The English Novel from Dickens to Lawrence,
which has a bit about Hardy, including common misconceptions and people writing him off. The book actually belongs to M Neve. It says so inside.

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

Have discovered that I can make my mouth into a perfect square. Showed Sam and Will. Sam said he knew someone else who could do it. Will spent ages trying to do it but couldn't.

Mary-Kay was just interested to know how I discovered I could do it. I said I'd just done it while blow-drying my hair and then she was interested in the fact that I've got a hair dryer.

Jez and me had a kebab. My first ever…not much to write home about. Except it's good watching the carving bit. Have you had?

Jez had had one (or two) before. Said he didn't think much to them, but not until we'd ordered and there was no going back.

Sam—bad eye and fed up.

Will—hates school—he doesn't like posh kids but goes to a posh school.

MK—grumpy.

Me—reading.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

I love AB's house (inside). He's really put some thought into it. He's done a collage of faces (like the one I did when I was about twelve). And he's got a bowl full of dried-out lemons that looks like an old painting. I've re-created it at 55.

MK: Do we want all these old lemons?

Me: I'm drying them.

MK: For?

Me: They just look nice.

MK: Do they?

Me: Well, once they're dry, they will.

MK: If you say so.

Mary Hope is getting her house done bit by bit. She's had a dark brown shag-pile carpet in her bedroom. She says she's always fancied one. And the walls are dark brown too. It's all very brown.

The rest of the house is paler.

They've got various bits of African art dotted about. One (the main one) is a long piece of fabric (five feet long, like a length of wallpaper) and on it are long smudgy streaks of blue and green roughly painted on. It's meant to be a waterfall but it just looks like someone's wiped the paint off a few brushes down it. They love it.

Shirley Conran lives next door. Her alarm keeps going off and bugging the hell out of Mary. Disturbing her (in her brown bedroom).

MK: How's it living next door to Superwoman?

Mary: Her burglar alarm keeps going off.

MK: That's not so super.

In theory we could climb over the wall at the back of our garden and be in Mary Hope's garden. But in reality it's all shrubs and trellis and I can't see anyone actually making it through.

Lucas would've struggled. Even Superwoman would.

Sometimes we can see them going about their business, through the window.

Me: Look, I can see Mary (or Polly).

Sam: What are they doing?

Me: Going about their business.

Sam: (
opens window, shouts
) Oi, Mary, Poddo, JDF.

Me: They can't hear you.

Sam: I'll ring them.

MK: Why?

Sam: Just to say we can see them going about their business.

MK: Leave them be.

Hope all's going well with you.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

Holborn library to return the LP of the bloke reading Chaucer's
Canterbury Tales
(excerpts) in the old English. Librarian took LP off me and looked impressed (did a little nod of approval).

Librarian: Did you enjoy the recording?

Me: Yes. I've made a cassette of it.

Librarian: (
suddenly angry
) You've done what?

Me: Made a cassette.

Librarian: That's illegal.

Me: Oh, sorry, I'll throw it away.

Librarian: (
looking at LP
) I'm afraid there's a fine on this—it was due back some time ago.

The annoying thing is, she was about to ignore the lateness when I mentioned the cassette and that angered her (in a possessive way). And she pressed charges.

It's not done my relationship with Chaucer any good at all.

Later, Sam and Will wanted to clear out the shed so they can have a yard sale. They've seen one on the telly where this kid makes a fortune.

The shed is the size of a wardrobe. Its only use is to be climbed on and jumped off (by Will and the Smiths next door). Found two fishing nets, can of floor polish, bike (small) and the Millers' saw (the one we borrowed last Xmas).

Took saw inside to show MK.

Me: Look!

MK: What? Are you off to do something awful in Holborn library?

Me: No, it's the Millers' saw. Someone should take it back.

MK: You borrowed it.

Me: You hid it.

MK: You found it.

Me: He's your friend.

MK: You care so much.

I took it back.

Me: This is your saw.

JM: Oh, thank you.

Me: We borrowed it last December.

JM: Yes, I remember. Well, thanks for bringing it back.

Me: Sorry it's taken so long.

JM: That's all right, I'm sure we'd have hollered if we'd needed it.

Back at 55:

MK: What did they say about the saw?

Me: Jonathan said to tell you never to ask to borrow anything off him again.

MK: Was there a fine?

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

Sam and Will have had new, more extreme, basin-cuts. It's a London thing, you see it a lot. I think it means “my kid is too cute to object to this fucked-up hair style.”

S&W had a row yesterday afternoon. To annoy Will, Sam said he might switch to Manchester United. Will called Sam something mysterious in German, which he claimed to be extremely offensive, but turned out to be mother-in-law (according to AB).

At supper:

Will: (
to Sam
) By the way, it was “swiegermutter.”

Sam: What was?

Will: What I called you—it's German for “motherfucker.”

AB: “Swiegermutter”? Actually, I think that's German for “mother-
in-law.
”

Will: Oh. What's the German for “motherfucker,” then?

MK: Probably “motherfucker.”

AB: (
pondering
) It might be “mutter
ficken
”? Or perhaps “arschficken,” “arshlock”? But
please
can't we discuss nicer things?

(
Pause.
)

Me: (
to assembly
) What's your favorite word?

Sam: Not this again.

Me: What's your favorite word
of the moment
?

Will: Not counting “swiegermutter,” I like “antidote.”

(
We all mutter, “Yeah
.”)

Sam: I can't decide between “oblong” and “toad.”

(
We all mutter, “Toad—yeah,” “Oblong—yeah.”
)

Me: I like “hoof.”

(
We all mutter, “Yeah.”
)

Will: I thought you liked “trousers.”

Me: I used to.

AB: I like “Lvov.”

(
No response.
)

Sam: What about “skull-fuck”?

Will: Only for special occasions.

MK: (
taken aback
) Glad to hear it.

Will: (
to MK
) Which do you like?

MK: They're all pretty good, except “lozenge.”

AB: No one said “lozenge”—we've had “trousers,” “skull-fuck” and “oblong”…

MK: (
to AB
)
You
did.

AB: I said “Lvov.”

MK: You're not allowed place names.

That's what our evenings are like. Reading the dictionary and discussing words and arguing about whether brim is better than flank—wordwise. And how to offend—in German and English. It's good.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

At supper, we discussed the old lady on
Jim'll Fix It
who scrubbed an elephant with a yard broom. Do you remember it? The old lady was tiny and the elephant as big as can be.

Me: The old lady had always dreamed of scrubbing an elephant.

AB: What a thing to dream of!

Me: She wrote to Jim and asked him to fix it.

AB: I might write to him.

Sam: What do you want him to fix for you?

AB: I'll have to think.

Sam: You could have tea with the chimpanzees.

AB: I do that anyway (
laughing
).

Will: You could take a rice pudding with you.

(
Pause.
)

Me: She really enjoyed scrubbing the elephant.

MK: Did the elephant like it?

Me: I think so.

Will: Elephants like being scrubbed.

Sam: How do you know?

Will: It's a known fact.

AB: Yes, I think they're known to like a scrub.

Will: They love it.

Me: Yeah, I think they do.

MK: Sounds like Jim killed two birds with one stone, then.

Sam: (
Jimmy Savile voice
) Now then, now then.

When Sam said he hated broccoli AB said (for some reason), “You are what you eat,” which didn't help.

Sam: Are you what you eat?

AB: Well, in a sense, yes.

Will: Sam's a banana, then.

Sam: Yeah, and Will's a cornflake.

Will: And Stibbe's just nuts.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

Thames Polytechnic has sent me an offer. Unconditional.

It's good because it means I can go there and do my degree (whatever happens). But it also means I don't
have
to pass the A level (and that they're not bothered how clever/thick their students are).

Me: It means the whole A level thing has been pointless.

MK: How?

Me: I could've just applied and gone anyway.

MK: But this way you've learned how to study
before
you go.

Me: I suppose so.

Nunney is really pleased about the unconditional offer.

Me: At least I've learned to study
before
I go.

Nunney: Well, I wouldn't go that far.

Been doing some practice papers for the exams. It's not the same without the anxiety.

I'd left the Seamus Heaney (
Selected Poems 1965–1975
) till last because of Nunney not being keen. Now I look at it, it's the best thing—the only really good thing—on the syllabus. Mary-Kay said I'd like it and I'd regret leaving it till last. And I do.

I've got to you at last

Your clotted water, and Irish air

Your dad and his dad

And your scruffy hair

  

But I'm on my own with you (no help)

Struggling in muddy lines

You in your duffel coat

Smiling with a field behind

  

You're not like Hardy

Tho some stuff's the same

But what d'you mean in
Summer Home
?

Why was the rhododendron to blame?

That's my poem for Seamus Heaney (I wrote it in five mins). What I'm saying is, I like you, but you're a challenge.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

Professor Picton congratulated Sam on a “lovely job” cleaning his teeth. Sam and me both surprised.

At supper all talked about dentist things. MK hates going to the dentist and has to have an injection just to be inspected. I told them about making half-coffee/half-tea for my old boss, Mr. Johnson.