Love, Nina (4 page)

Me: She deserved those turkey burgers then, two-timing cow.

MK: No one's that bad.

Funny hearing about your old ladies and their baths. You should try washing Sam's hair. He hates it and gets more and more annoyed, and struggles as though you're trying to drown him and he shouts for Trevor Brooking (throughout the rinsing) plus you're having to be very careful not to get soap in his eyes.

Mary-Kay has started washing her hair over the kitchen sink (when she's in a hurry). I know because she keeps the shampoo in the cupboard above the sink by the sunflower oil. I'm hoping one day she'll pick up the wrong bottle.

Love, Nina

PS
Do Not
practice in Dad's car. It veers to the left. I drove down the M1(Leics to London) and my arms were killing me the day after, it's like you're on a permanent hairpin bend just keeping it in a straight line. I stopped at the services (Newport Pagnell) and a bloke advised me not to drive it any further.

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

Last night Betsy and Karel Reisz came round. I cooked a chicken and Betsy brought a cake. At supper Betsy kept saying, “Beautiful, beautiful” (about the roast chicken).

MK: Aren't we due a break from mashed potatoes?

Betsy: No, Mary-Kay—it's all lovely, really beautiful. I love carrots done this way (
boiled in sugary water with cornflour added at the end, then sprinkled with fresh chopped parsley
).

Will had his carrots raw, but even he admitted the cooked ones looked good.

Betsy's pudding cake was very nice. Sam almost choked on a bit of tinfoil she'd accidentally left on it. But apart from that, it was really delicious (American style, homemade).

Karel and Betsy are proof that nice people don't have to be embarrassing. I was just thinking that (aren't they nice etc.) and I was feeling pleased with Betsy's appreciation of the supper (esp. after the turkey burger snub), when Betsy accidentally ruined it…well, her and MK.

Suddenly, Betsy said, “You know, Mary-Kay, you should have someone come in and clean, it'd really make a difference.”

“Yeah, I know,” said MK.

“I think Carmelita could come over, I'm sure she could use the extra cash, I'll ask her,” said Betsy.

“Great,” said MK.

The thing is, I think I'm supposed to do it (the cleaning). Well, a bit. I only
don't
do it because MK isn't bothered—if she had said something I'd have hoovered up or something (though to be honest I've never seen a hoover anywhere). MK never mentions the mess or seems to care. She washes up and tidies up etc. and the boys fill and empty the dishwasher. I just do the cat bowl.

Anyway, I think it's settled (about the cleaner starting). I feel that guilty/annoyed mix.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

February

Dear Vic,

OK, I
know
Jonathan Miller isn't an opera singer. I told you a while ago, it was a misunderstanding. I knew he had something to do with opera (people were always saying, “Have you heard Jonathan's
Rigoletto
?” to each other) and he's got a very deep voice. I just put two and two together. Anyway, I know he's not. He's a doctor (a writer-doctor and opera-director).

Mary-Kay has started hanging around with a friend called Susannah. She's very nice.

S&W like her a lot. I suppose she seems really nice compared with me and MK because she's so nice-mannered and not sarcastic, and she's pretty.

But…she wears this startling eye makeup, even S&W have commented…thick black eyeliner—
under
the eye. The liquid type that only professionals can (or should) do. I was on the brink of saying something about it to MK (like it's a shame Susannah spoils her nice face with all that black on her eyes) but thought I'd better not—seeing as they're such good friends. Plus it would've sounded like I meant something else.

Then—fucking Ada—last night MK came downstairs ready to go out and was all done up the same! She looks even worse than Susannah. Susannah sort of pulls it off. Somehow it goes with the whole of her. But it's all wrong on MK. I wish I'd said something earlier. Too late now.

I was v. pleased to get a Valentine card—it said, “Baby I dig you.” I don't know who sent it but it was posted in this area. So I know it wasn't you.

Also, I
sent
one to Tom Miller (JM's son) who's very nice and handsome. It was an ostrich (B&W photo—he's a photographer). He'll have no idea it was me.

Carmelita (cleaner) started today. She did nothing but clean for about three hours. She had one cup of tea, which she sipped as she worked. She won't chat (too busy). MK was really pleased when she got home and had a good look at all the clean areas and surfaces and sniffed the air (floor polish) and said, “Hey!” She could tell I was a bit annoyed.

MK: Isn't it nice?

Me: It's OK.

MK: Don't know what you're so mardy about (
with her black eyeliner on
).

Me: I feel guilty about the cleaning.

MK: Well, you don't need to. Yes, it would have been nice if, occasionally, you'd tidied up just a bit. But you do all the important stuff—you idiot. And you feed Lucas.

Me: You mean
Jack.

MK: Yes, Jack.

So it's OK and I can just be glad that, once a week, it's going to smell of floor polish and the mouthpiece on the phone will have been wiped with a J cloth.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

Noticed a skip in the crescent today, up the posh end. Will and me like skips and Sam was interested to see his first ever skip. So we went to have a look at it. It was quite a big one. I thought it would be funny to put Sam in it (the skip), so I did. We were all laughing and Sam's laugh was echoing around inside the skip.

Sam: There's a thing in here.

Me: What is it?

Sam: I don't know.

Him saying that made me think I'd better get him out, but it was difficult because when I tried to lift him out he seemed about ten times heavier than when I lifted him in. And it was deep, plus we were laughing a lot and that weakens you (as you know from the near drowning at St. Margaret's). Will was helpful and offered to get into the skip himself and help from the inside, but I wanted at least one of them
not
in the skip. But in the end, Will had to.

Will: Shall I get in?

Me: No.

Will: Shall I fetch Jonathan Miller? (
We were just along from his house.
)

Me: No!

Will: Bennett?

Me: No!

Will: Nunney?

Me: No, we've got to do this ourselves.

Will: So, shall I get in then?

Me: OK.

Anyway, Will got in and they both got out and I said not to tell Mary-Kay. Later AB said he'd seen us “messing about with Ursula Vaughan Williams' skip.”

MK: Nicking stuff out of it?

AB: Chucking stuff in, from what I could see.

MK: Chucking what in?

Sam & me: Nothing.

Will: Rubbish from the street.

Good old Will, he always knows what to say, which is amazing when you think he's only nine.

AB wouldn't stop going on about the woman whose skip we'd been messing around in.

AB: She's the widow of Ralph Williams.

Me: Who?

AB: The composer.

Me: A composer called
Ralph?

AB: Have you never heard of
The Lark Ascending
(
hums tune
)?

Sam: I know that one, it was on
Bugs Bunny.

I'm doing lots of cooking too, and beginning to get the hang. The worst thing is knowing when a thing is going to be done. How do you know? A chicken seems to take forever. I know the “juices have to run clear” when you stab the leg, but they never do (run clear). So my chickens can be a bit dried out, but at least they're not going to kill anyone. The secret is to baste them with oil.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

Will is fed up with an overly strict teacher being a bit horrible. I suggested that whenever the teacher is being shouty, Will should imagine him naked on the toilet.

MK: Why does he have to be naked? Couldn't he just be on the toilet?

Me: Oh, yes. I meant just on the toilet.

MK: (
weary
).

Me: I didn't mean to say naked.

Will: (
head in hands
) Aargh!

MK: Now look what you've done.

Me: (
to Will
) Sorry, forget him being naked, just imagine him on the toilet, but fully clothed.

Sam: But with his trousers down.

Will: Too late, I can't get the picture out of my head.

MK: (
shaking head
).

Me: Is he the maths teacher?

MK: Just leave it.

AB is back and came over just for pudding because he'd had a late snack with Coral. Coral is a friend who AB likes a lot who seems to always be saying funny/clever things that make AB laugh. He says Coral's as sharp as a tack. And it's a bit “Coral said this” and “Coral said that” at the moment.

This Coral is an actress but I'd never heard of an actress called Coral, so it occurred to me that AB was just saying it funny and it was actually
Carol
—I thought it might be the actress Carol Drinkwater (TV wife of Christopher Timothy in
All Creatures Great and Small
) though I couldn't imagine her being “sharp as a tack.”

Me: Is it C
o
ral, or C
a
rol?

AB: C
o
ral, C
o
ral.

Me: Like the color?

AB: Well…like the marine organism.

Me: It's nice.

Will: It sounds a bit sharp.

Me: Yes, like coral.

Sam: Yeah, the marine orgasm.

AB: Org-an-ism.

I wonder if AB will tell the funny/clever Coral about Sam calling Coral an orgasm.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

Mondays are very busy now. I have to go and collect the cleaner (Carmelita—she lives with Karel and Betsy in Belsize Park). And Monday is always Jez's day for laundry (he only has lectures first thing), so he's always waiting on the doorstep with his laundry bundle when we get back.

Jez and Carmelita get along very well. Jez makes her laugh. He asks her if ours is the messiest house she's ever seen and whether she thinks a nanny might usually find time to clean up just a bit and stuff like that and Carmelita laughs. I've asked him to stop highlighting my failure to clean, but their friendship seems to be built around it. She loves him and pretty much never stops laughing when he's around, whereas when he's not, she's quite serious.

At supper tonight, extra people came round (Granny Wilmers, the Reiszs, the Lahrs and a lone woman called Caroline) and it was my new recipe for Florida coleslaw versus AB's watercress and orange salad.

I'd made my salad to go with the supper. AB just turned up with his, unasked.

His is just a bag of plain watercress, one chopped-up orange, with a bit of olive oil and some ground pepper. My coleslaw is:

Shredded cabbage

Grated carrot

Onion

1 tin of mandarins

4 large spoons salad cream

Chives

I think more of mine (salad) would have gone if the two salad dishes had been anonymous—everyone looks up to AB these days since all his success on telly, so they're not going to ignore his salad. Seeing such a lot of my Florida coleslaw left in the bowl, AB made one of his usual food pronouncements, “You'd be better off with mayonnaise or yoghurt, and perhaps not the tinned oranges.”

My God, Vic, MK has started driving like Mrs. Lucas from Gwendolyn Junior. She stayed in second gear all the way along Arlington Road and then changed into third for a maneuver (which, in case you don't know yet, is the wrong way round). Plus, she's right up against the steering wheel. Must be the new car (Saab). Hope so.

I said to her, “I think you have your seat too far forward.” And she said, “I have to, otherwise my feet don't reach the pedals.”

It can't be right. Are the Swedes a tall race?

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

You're not going to like this, but I'm telling you anyway.

It's about Lucas (aka Jack) the cat. At first, I thought I quite liked him, but began to get sick of his food/food bowl. Because the thing with cats (as opposed to dogs) is you don't have much to do with the actual cat, just the food and the bowl and the leftovers and assorted worries—he hasn't been fed/let in for his food/let out…he's got fleas/flu/dehydration. Plus, there's the thing about them prowling round killing baby birds. Plus, I have assumed much of the responsibility for him since insisting on a name change (from Lucas to Jack).

Saw a notice in the newsagent:

CAT WANTED

Adult cat wanted (neutered) by lonely elderly cat lover

(Mornington Crescent).

Have recently lost my old Tom.

Telephone xxx

Memorized it approximately, told Mary-Kay.

MK: So what are you waiting for?

Me: Shouldn't we discuss it with Sam and Will?

MK: And have someone else beat us to it?

Me: OK.

Rang the old cat lover and was about to take Lucas/Jack round to Mornington Crescent when Will came in.

Will: What's in the box?

Me: Lucas.

Will: Did he die?

Me: No, he's going to live somewhere else.

Will: Are you trying to tell me he died?

Me: No, he's alive, but someone else needs a cat more than we do.

Will: Have you had an offer for him?

Me: Yes.