Love, Nina (16 page)

Misty gave me a money-saving device for collecting up little nub ends of soap. It squeezes them together and you have a new bar of soap (eventually). Showed MK.

Me: It's a money-saving thing.

MK: How much did it cost?

Me: £2.99.

MK: How much is a bar of soap?

The thing is we have Simple soap which forms deep cracks if it dries out, which it does if it doesn't get used. Which it doesn't. We never have nub ends, we have great big, dried-out old cracked bars of Simple. We discuss the nub end thing and soap in general.

Me: Maybe we should use a different soap, which stays nicer.

MK: Or maybe we could just
use
the Simple soap.

I want to go back to Imperial Leather which never cracks and just stays in a neat soap shape and wish I hadn't mentioned the cracks in the Simple.

Hope all's well with you.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

July 1984

Dear Vic,

Nunney home from his time hitch-hiking across France/Spain. He's had a very nice time and keeps going on about it. He told me about going to Pamplona and how a chubby woman (aroused by the charging bulls or tomatoes or whatever they have there) had very forcefully tried to have sex with him but he'd resisted her advances.

Nunney: She jumped me.

Me: Oh.

Nunney: But I resisted.

Me: Well, you didn't have to resist on my account.

Nunney: I had to resist on
my
account.

He also mentioned about a bloke and another couple of women making advances (in cars while he was hitch-hiking) and described how he skillfully and tactfully resisted
their
advances.

He seems to have spent his whole time tactfully resisting offers of sex from the population of France/Spain. I asked why he thought he was so popular and desirable all of a sudden. He said it's the same wherever he is.

He's come back wearing espadrilles. Not sure about them (in general) or on him.

Love, Nina

PS He enjoyed Chaucer's
Canterbury Tales.
Apparently the book was very attractive to women, who often approached him to talk about the great English writer and ended up buying him a beer.

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

Saturday: went to the zoo with Nunney. He climbed over, I thought I'd have a go, but in the end went through the entrance and paid. I wanted to see the camels first and foremost. But was also interested in the famous penguin pool and anything very big.

The camels were disappointing with patchy fur and poo clumps. The worst thing was that they seemed unhappy. Even the camel keeper said, “They have been known to nibble each other out of boredom.”

He said nibble but he probably meant bite. Possibly even kill if left to their own devices. Poor things.

Nunney liked the wolves. I didn't much (yellow eyes). You can see them from the park side of the fence anyway, sloping around looking mean and furtive.

Sam's trying to make a ball out of elastic bands. He ran out (of elastic bands) so we went round 57 and found a few. Some were holding things together, bundles of letters and stuff. Also changed the letters on the key hooks from CLAIRES KEYS to SCARY SLEEKI.

I thought it was quite clever, but Nunney is a bit outraged. More so than usual, probably because he's no longer on the payroll and is now a “friend of the family.”

Nunney: What did you do to the key hooks?

Me: I changed the letters.

N: You fucking psycho.

Me: It was clever, I made new words.

N: It was not clever. It was cuntish.

Me: Surely people are forever changing those letters around, they're removable.

N: No, no one does. Only you.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

MK's birthday (43, 44?).

S&W and me did tea. BLT sandwiches (triangles)—same as she had in New York. She thought it was funny and nice that we'd remembered her saying about them.

Sam kept calling them DLTs.

AB said we should've toasted the bread slightly to make them authentic New York style. He's right, it would've been better. The bread, untoasted, sticks to the roof of your mouth.

Thin sliced white bread (slightly toasted)

Bacon grilled crispy

Tomato slices

Lettuce leaves

Mayonnaise

Will made a tower of pancakes (5) with syrup. He wanted to set them alight but he was getting mixed up with crêpes suzette.

Mary Hope gave MK a nice thing that she'd knitted herself—sweatery thing, speckled that she's got one the same as, only brown/orange. MK's was gray/blue.

AB gave her some soap you can only get in France.

Polly drew her a map of Africa with all the countries done in a different color. She's done the same for Granny Wilmers, only bigger and on card. She knows all the borders off by heart (Polly does).

We're getting a lot of little floaty black flies in the kitchen. AB says they're fruit flies.

Glad all good there (except for Brandy news).

Love, Nina

PS A friend of MK's gave her a chiming thing you hang in the garden that makes a tinkling noise and keeps away bad spirits. MK didn't want it—(a) she doesn't like tinkling noises and (b) she's not 100% anti bad spirits. I kept it (for you, if you want it).

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

To France next week to Mary-Kay's house.

Feels funny not having the syllabus to think about. Nunney says I must get straight on with the Thames Poly summer reading list and work my way through as much as I can over the summer to prepare for the course because many of the other students will have been to school and done all sorts of learning and exams.

The Thames reading list is not referred to as a syllabus, just a reading list. The list is very long with sections for different subjects. I've not read a single book on the list. Nunney said to pick something enjoyable and easy to start with, like
The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists
.

Showed Mary-Kay the reading list. She also thinks
Ragged Trousered Philanthropists
is a good place to start (social, political, economic and cultural).

So that's where I'll start.

I'll read it in France and on the journey. It's a big book. Sam has Sherlock Holmes cassettes to listen to on his Walkman, lucky Sam.

I'll ring when I'm back.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

France. Sam and me shared a tiny room on the train (bunk-beds). It was brilliant. Sam listened to Sherlock Holmes tape and I could tell it was exciting. I borrowed it as soon as he'd finished and wished I hadn't—really spooky. Couldn't sleep in my little bunk-bed—a bit scared—Sam got fed up with me trying to chat and ended up shouting at me to shut the fuck up and let him go to sleep. I felt quite proud of him.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

August 1984

Dear Vic,

Nunney rang me in France with A level result. I was shocked. I knew I hadn't done very well, but an E is really bad. Nunney says it's a pass and that's fantastic (considering).

I didn't even think an E was a pass to start with, but it is, it says so on the sheet apparently. But it's the worst pass you can get except for a plain “pass” with no letter. There's also an F (but that's a fail).

Told Mary-Kay and co I got a C.

Sometimes you just have to lie. And I had to because the result came while I was at MK's house in France and loads of her mates were there, eating basil and speaking French. I couldn't say, “Oh, yes, I passed. I got an E.”

Even saying a C sounded bad enough.

MK: So?

Me: What?

MK: Did you pass?

Me: Yes, I got a C.

MK: A C?

Me: Yes.

MK: Very good.

The others: (
mumbling
) Well done.

Apart from the E, France was great.

The house is lovely. Thick walls, stone floors and melons growing in the fields along the roads. Sam listening to his Walkman and singing along to
Scoop
by Pete Townshend—including “I Just Wanna Be Popular” which he does, and is.

Loads of fresh herbs. One day we only had green beans for lunch and another day just a salad and bread.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

Back in London. AB was away and did not require supper.

Me: Where is AB?

Sam: He's gone to Coventry.

Me: Literally or metaphorically?

Sam: I hate it when you say things like that.

Me: Literally or metaphorically?

Will: He literally hates it!

For ages Mel the trainee beautician friend of Pippa has been saying I should have this, that and the other done, beautywise, and how great I'd look etc. This is how she gets business, saying how much better you'd look if you had a manicure. A bit like Mr. Mackie's plastic surgeon friend. They make you feel insecure so you'll fork out. Anyway I agreed to let Mel do an eyebrow and eyelash tint on me for £2.50.

We did it in her flat. While she did it she told me not to speak in case the eyelash tint seeped in (apparently your eyes flicker when you speak). So she did all the talking.

She told me about when thieves nicked her handbag in the Spread Eagle. They'd lifted the bag off the door peg while she was on the toilet. She couldn't chase after it because she had her dungarees down and they're quite complex to put back up. She thinks the thieves targeted the dungarees (with getaway time in mind). I just said “mmm” occasionally.

It reminded me of Mr. Johnson, who used to bore his patients to death while they were unable to talk back (“my lawn is like a hayfield, Mr. Dewick, I don't know about yours”/”I recently discovered that authentic lasagna has sausage in it, I didn't know that”).

Afterward:

Beautician Mel: (
holding mirror right up to my face
) There you go, lovely black eyelashes for up to six weeks.

Me: They look very red.

Mel: You were sensitive to the ammonia.

Me: Isn't everyone?

Mel: Some tint must've seeped in while we chatted.

Me: I didn't chat.

At 55.

MK: That's better.

Me: What?

MK: Whatever you've done.

Me: To what?

MK: Yourself.

Me: I had a lash and brow tint from Mel.

MK: V. good.

Will likes a café called Garfunkel's. The waiters are unhappy and the food is rubbish/fancy. There's a pudding on the menu called Toffee-nose Sundae. Why not just Toffee Sundae? Said this to Will. He said, “I think you just hate the word ‘nose.'” And ordered one. Will was impressed that the bread rolls were in nice shapes. Earlier in the week we'd made bread shapes after seeing people do it in Camden Lock. Sam did a football and Will did the letter A. I did a hedgehog. They all just came out like bread rolls.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

I had to do the big shop today, due to MK being very busy at the paper.

I hate Sainsbury's. The fridgy smell and the coldness. I don't usually feel cold, but in Sainsbury's I feel chilly and I realize that's how most people (esp. women, i.e. MK) feel a lot of the time (cold and annoyed), which explains a lot. It's not a nice feeling and no wonder they're always snuggling up in cardigans and buying walnut whips to cheer themselves up.

MK has been given a notepad where every page is the shape of a strawberry (by a friend's daughter). MK uses the notepad now and we keep getting strawberry notes.

Strawberry note: pls get vegetables/salad whatever. And strawberries?

Remember I thought the O'Connells' painting of a flamenco dancer was a red pepper? The same thing happened to Sam.

Writer types are compelled to write. So in cafés, when they're supposed to be eating and making nice conversation, they write ideas on napkins in felt tip. MK does it a bit, but Neve does it the most. The other day he drew a heart on a napkin and wrote “mK Wilmers” in it.

Sam: (
scrutinizing napkin
) What's that?

Neve: That, my dear Sam, is my heart.

Sam: Is it?

Neve: Yes, with your mother's name etched on the pericardium. Sam: Oh, it looks like a red pepper.

Neve: Thank you.

Neve is a very funny man.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

There's a woman who walks down the street every day with the biggest arse you've ever seen. The thing is, they don't like being mean about people in that way (except Will) so I was keeping it to myself (apart from Will).

Then Will brought it up at supper.

Will: I think I've seen that woman.

Me: What woman?

Will: That one you mentioned with the huge arse.

MK: What woman?

Me: Oh, just this woman.

Will: It's huge.

MK: What's huge?

Will: Her arse.

AB: That's not very nice, Will.

Will: (
laughing
) You're right, it's horrible.

MK stayed quiet on the subject (unlike her).

Me: You've seen it, haven't you?

MK: I might have.

Will: You'd know.

MK: I have.

AB: Don't be so mean, all of you. Honestly!

MK: (
to AB
) It
is
huge.

AB: Stop it!

MK: But you've not seen it.

AB: I
have
actually, but I don't think you should make fun.

MK: He's not seen it.

Me: No.

Sam is back to school, but not Will yet. And MK is still interviewing nannies. Her favorite is this awful one with a high ponytail from Kent. Her second favorite is a very nice one from Somerset—too nice in my opinion.

Overdid the sunflower oil this morning and Sam was late for school.