Susanne’s mother wielded an enormous cleaver at her. “Honestly! Do something useful or get out of the kitchen. And stop nicking the cheese.”
Sue smiled mischievously and lifted another handful of the creamy cheddar to her mouth as her mother turned back to the chopping board.
She loved being in the kitchen with her mother, while the menfolk sat in the lounge drinking watered-down whiskey, making loud jokes she didn’t understand.
She began to peel potatoes. They felt comfortingly solid in her hands. She peeled away the skin to expose the powdery flesh, and then peeled off bits of the flesh just for the joy of the slicing. She dug out the dark eyes with her fingernails.
“Sies, Sue,” her mother chided her. “Wash your fingers before you do that.” She grabbed the potatoes from her, and began to scrub them roughly over the sink. Sue watched her enormous buttocks jiggling beneath her flowery skirt. She sidled up to them, and rested her head against the rough fabric.
Her mother smiled at her over her shoulder. “If you’re not going to be useful in here, go and ask Uncle Tommy to get more ice. And see if you can find the bottle opener.”
Sue padded into the lounge. Uncle Tommy was conducting a sermon from next to the heater.
“It’s like I said to him, boys, I said to him, you’ve got to give employees boundaries, otherwise they feel they’ve got to test you. They’re uneducated, you know, I said to him, they like to know the rules. Lets them know where they stand.” He took a swig from his glass, and smacked his lips.
Her dad, a planet of a man, to Sue’s eyes, stretched his arms out over his fat belly and crossed his hands together, like he always did when he was about to say something funny.
“Ja, Tom, applies to us husbands too, doesn’t it. Got be disciplined.” He winked over at Auntie Rosemary, who giggled and blushed.
Uncle Tommy laughed. “Ja, Rosie knows how to keep me in my place. She’s got the key to the dogbox hanging on her belt.”
Everyone laughed in a happy chorus. Finally her dad noticed Sue. “What is it, little poppit?”
“Mommy said to tell Uncle Tommy to get more ice and to find the bottle opener.”
Uncle Reggie looked at her from the couch, his nose red and his eyes bloodshot. “I think I saw it in the back room, Susie-Lou.”
Sue ran off at once to get it. She loved any excuse to go into the back room. She’d been forbidden from going in there when Grandma was lying on the bed, and it had acquired the mystical aura of a church, or of her mother’s dressing room.
The room was dark and quiet as she pushed open the door. Even the air seemed perfectly immobile. She stared at the bed. It had been stripped. Sue idly ran her fingers into the grooves of the mattress.
The room had a faint smell that she could not name. Something bodily, and warm, and dry.
Sue walked over to the dark wooden bureau. On it was a collection of delicate porcelain figures. A shepherdess. A boy with a large head and watery eyes. A couple dancing in old-fashioned clothes. A naked woman playing a harp. They were all covered with a film of grey dust. Sue wiped her finger over the naked woman’s breasts, making them white and smooth again. Then, she cleaned off the rest of her, so that no-one would know she’d wanted to touch the statue where it was naked.
The bottle opener was perched on the end of the bureau. Sue grabbed it and left the dark room. She wondered why nobody had thought to open the curtains.
Sue returned to the pleasant noises and smells of the living room. She curled up in the corner, next to the couch, and pretended to be invisible, so that she could drink in the chattering voices and the affectionate laughter without being sent on any more errands.
The men spoke about women, and banking policies, and her daddy told them about the new car he was going to buy, and they all turned miserable when they started speaking about the rugby team that wasn’t doing well, and then cheered up again by making rude jokes about the other teams, and then they spoke about Uncle Reggie’s new business, and then about women again.
Auntie Rosemary wasn’t saying anything, but stroked Susanne’s head gently. Sue felt her body relaxed and weightless, and wondered if she could still be Sue without having any body at all. Although, the delicious smells from the kitchen reminded her that having a body was nice, too.
The sun set as the conversation marinated the room, becoming increasingly hearty with every round of whiskey that went around. Her uncles began so sing a song they remembered from when Grandma still made them go to mass.
Eventually she was called to help bring supper to the table. Everyone was so hungry that they began eating the first course without even saying grace. Sue’s hands were soon sticky, and her mother fussed over her with a napkin.
Very soon the first course was cleared away, and the conversation became suddenly muted. Her Uncle Reggie, sitting across the table, was staring at her again, his eyes even redder than before.
Her mother came from the kitchen, carrying a heavily-laden platter. Everyone watched her lay it on the table. It made a thumping sound like somebody falling.
Her mother brought through a steaming jug. “I hope no-one minds, but I made gravy. I didn’t know if it would be appropriate, but the meat is so dry…”
Everyone loaded up their plate. There were not the usual squabblings over who got the most; Sue thought it must be because there was so much meat, and everyone like meat better than potatoes or vegetables.
Starving, Sue began to eat. She had taken four forkfuls before she realised that everyone else was looking at their food without touching it.
Uncle Tommy cleared his throat. “I feel … we should say something.” Her daddy, always the man to fill a silence, rose ponderously to his feet.
“She was a good mother.”
“The best,” Aunt Rosemary added, dabbing her eye with a soiled napkin.
“Yes, the best. And I know we’re all going to miss her … particular ways of doing things. I know that some of you weren’t in favour of this,” his eyes singled out Uncle Reggie. “Reg, it was what Mom wanted.”
He raised his glass, the broken glass that had a chip out of the rim, half filled with thin whiskey. “To Shirley. May she live on in all of us.”
They all lifted their glasses off the table and murmered, “To Shirley.” Susanne had already resumed eating. The flesh felt grainy in her mouth, and it was already getting cold. She wanted to tell her daddy about something she’d learnt at school about hippos, but he was eating with the look on his face that meant he was concentrating, and didn’t want to be disturbed.
Sue smiled mischievously and lifted another handful of the creamy cheddar to her mouth as her mother turned back to the chopping board.
She loved being in the kitchen with her mother, while the menfolk sat in the lounge drinking watered-down whiskey, making loud jokes she didn’t understand.
She began to peel potatoes. They felt comfortingly solid in her hands. She peeled away the skin to expose the powdery flesh, and then peeled off bits of the flesh just for the joy of the slicing. She dug out the dark eyes with her fingernails.
“Sies, Sue,” her mother chided her. “Wash your fingers before you do that.” She grabbed the potatoes from her, and began to scrub them roughly over the sink. Sue watched her enormous buttocks jiggling beneath her flowery skirt. She sidled up to them, and rested her head against the rough fabric.
Her mother smiled at her over her shoulder. “If you’re not going to be useful in here, go and ask Uncle Tommy to get more ice. And see if you can find the bottle opener.”
Sue padded into the lounge. Uncle Tommy was conducting a sermon from next to the heater.
“It’s like I said to him, boys, I said to him, you’ve got to give employees boundaries, otherwise they feel they’ve got to test you. They’re uneducated, you know, I said to him, they like to know the rules. Lets them know where they stand.” He took a swig from his glass, and smacked his lips.
Her dad, a planet of a man, to Sue’s eyes, stretched his arms out over his fat belly and crossed his hands together, like he always did when he was about to say something funny.
“Ja, Tom, applies to us husbands too, doesn’t it. Got be disciplined.” He winked over at Auntie Rosemary, who giggled and blushed.
Uncle Tommy laughed. “Ja, Rosie knows how to keep me in my place. She’s got the key to the dogbox hanging on her belt.”
Everyone laughed in a happy chorus. Finally her dad noticed Sue. “What is it, little poppit?”
“Mommy said to tell Uncle Tommy to get more ice and to find the bottle opener.”
Uncle Reggie looked at her from the couch, his nose red and his eyes bloodshot. “I think I saw it in the back room, Susie-Lou.”
Sue ran off at once to get it. She loved any excuse to go into the back room. She’d been forbidden from going in there when Grandma was lying on the bed, and it had acquired the mystical aura of a church, or of her mother’s dressing room.
The room was dark and quiet as she pushed open the door. Even the air seemed perfectly immobile. She stared at the bed. It had been stripped. Sue idly ran her fingers into the grooves of the mattress.
The room had a faint smell that she could not name. Something bodily, and warm, and dry.
Sue walked over to the dark wooden bureau. On it was a collection of delicate porcelain figures. A shepherdess. A boy with a large head and watery eyes. A couple dancing in old-fashioned clothes. A naked woman playing a harp. They were all covered with a film of grey dust. Sue wiped her finger over the naked woman’s breasts, making them white and smooth again. Then, she cleaned off the rest of her, so that no-one would know she’d wanted to touch the statue where it was naked.
The bottle opener was perched on the end of the bureau. Sue grabbed it and left the dark room. She wondered why nobody had thought to open the curtains.
Sue returned to the pleasant noises and smells of the living room. She curled up in the corner, next to the couch, and pretended to be invisible, so that she could drink in the chattering voices and the affectionate laughter without being sent on any more errands.
The men spoke about women, and banking policies, and her daddy told them about the new car he was going to buy, and they all turned miserable when they started speaking about the rugby team that wasn’t doing well, and then cheered up again by making rude jokes about the other teams, and then they spoke about Uncle Reggie’s new business, and then about women again.
Auntie Rosemary wasn’t saying anything, but stroked Susanne’s head gently. Sue felt her body relaxed and weightless, and wondered if she could still be Sue without having any body at all. Although, the delicious smells from the kitchen reminded her that having a body was nice, too.
The sun set as the conversation marinated the room, becoming increasingly hearty with every round of whiskey that went around. Her uncles began so sing a song they remembered from when Grandma still made them go to mass.
Eventually she was called to help bring supper to the table. Everyone was so hungry that they began eating the first course without even saying grace. Sue’s hands were soon sticky, and her mother fussed over her with a napkin.
Very soon the first course was cleared away, and the conversation became suddenly muted. Her Uncle Reggie, sitting across the table, was staring at her again, his eyes even redder than before.
Her mother came from the kitchen, carrying a heavily-laden platter. Everyone watched her lay it on the table. It made a thumping sound like somebody falling.
Her mother brought through a steaming jug. “I hope no-one minds, but I made gravy. I didn’t know if it would be appropriate, but the meat is so dry…”
Everyone loaded up their plate. There were not the usual squabblings over who got the most; Sue thought it must be because there was so much meat, and everyone like meat better than potatoes or vegetables.
Starving, Sue began to eat. She had taken four forkfuls before she realised that everyone else was looking at their food without touching it.
Uncle Tommy cleared his throat. “I feel … we should say something.” Her daddy, always the man to fill a silence, rose ponderously to his feet.
“She was a good mother.”
“The best,” Aunt Rosemary added, dabbing her eye with a soiled napkin.
“Yes, the best. And I know we’re all going to miss her … particular ways of doing things. I know that some of you weren’t in favour of this,” his eyes singled out Uncle Reggie. “Reg, it was what Mom wanted.”
He raised his glass, the broken glass that had a chip out of the rim, half filled with thin whiskey. “To Shirley. May she live on in all of us.”
They all lifted their glasses off the table and murmered, “To Shirley.” Susanne had already resumed eating. The flesh felt grainy in her mouth, and it was already getting cold. She wanted to tell her daddy about something she’d learnt at school about hippos, but he was eating with the look on his face that meant he was concentrating, and didn’t want to be disturbed.
