The Coming of Age. December Part 1.
By Ros Glancey
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1st December. Val tells me that Martin, my ex-husband, has been allegedly seen with a stud in his nose. I know he us younger than me, but only by two years. I ring Alex and he says this is cool. Again. If Martin gets any cooler he will turn into an icicle.
The Actuary, who wears quite dashing underpants and never ever tucks his shirt inside them, has a habit of wandering about wearing nothing but his socks. His ex wife told him that he should avoid doing this if he took up with a new woman and didn’t want her to fall off the bed in gales of scornful laughter. I think this was possibly her grounds for divorce. I find it quite endearing but it’s early days yet. I am reminded of Anna Karenina; at least I think it is Anna Karenina. Anna sees her tiresome husband and thinks something along the lines of ‘Why are his ears like that?’ She probably thought they were delicious to begin with and then love fades and things like underpants, ears and socks become violent irritants. At least I know The Actuary will never wear long baggy shorts or a pillbox hat. Or a nose stud. This is tremendously comforting.
2nd December. Our little group is to meet at Poppy’s tomorrow. She says it may be the last time. This is very intriguing and I can’t wait.
3rd December. Poppy drops a bombshell. She has rented a cottage in Spoleto (not Tuscany she points out, which is very old hat, but Umbria which she pronounces Oombria.) I think at first this sudden decision has something to do with the fact that she can drink the wine there. But no.
‘You know,’ she says, ‘To get anything done in Italy, you have to flirt with the workmen. It’s the only way. I’m not very good at it yet, but I am learning.’
We all look at each other. She was made for Italy and Italy for her.
She has already found another man who is called Vincenzo. He is 15 years younger than her, and naturally, has all his own teeth and hair and is amazingly fit if not positively gymnastic. Not only that, but an Italian Count in the next village has asked her to suggest some designs for his ‘small drawing room’ which is 40 feet long. We are green with envy. Vincenzo told her she must beware of the count who has a bad reputation. We angle for an invitation but she is far far too busy with the Count and Vincenzo to have time for guests just yet.
Just to show the flag, I throw in a few comments about The Actuary and how wonderful he is, even though he is not gymnastic. In fact, there are usually quite a few groans and creaks but as I have them too, it doesn’t seem to matter.
Val has some good news as well. I am surprised how sparky she is, as it has nothing to do with a man at all. She has got a job teaching pottery in the local prison. It seems a bit worthy to me and I can see Poppy looking askance but Val is full of ideas and purpose. I haven’t seen her look so bright for a long time.
6th December. I bump into Fran who is also positively cheerful. She has taken Billy, for that is Sue’s brother’s name, to Guy Prodger and he says his teeth can easily be put right. Of course, he does need about 15 fillings and two caps as well. Billy was pathetically grateful.
Fran/not Gerda anymore was emboldened to broach the subject of his other dangling bit. He offered to show it to her. I don’t think I would have been able to resist taking a peek – as my mother always said, I am disgustingly inquisitive. Fran is not. She tells him that the doctor would be better. She takes Billy to Dr Houseman – just an excuse I think for visiting the erring doctor following upon the visit to the erring dentist, after all she could have gone to see the ones in Newtown, but I don’t say that – and the doctor was quite unfazed. After an examination he just said ‘Oh yes, easily done, outpatients, local anaesthetic. I’ll make you an appointment.’
Billy couldn’t believe his ears and almost cried. After years of being the butt of jokes, he is going to be like everyone else.
Fran says that in six month in the housing department, it’s the only useful thing she’s done.
‘In fact,’ she says, ‘it may be the most helpful thing I’ve ever done.’
‘Even including Counselling?’ I say.
‘Especially including counselling,’ she says firmly.
8th December. I am coming out of the gate when I see Eric coming out of his house. He looks a little melancholy but he often does in the winter probably because he can't mow his verges. He waves and comes over. Norah has fallen off a stool while trying to stow her Christmas supplies into their spare freezer and broken her arm.
'She can't peel the potatoes', he says, 'and I'm going to have to do it for six weeks.'
'How is she? Is she in pain? Can I do anything?'
'Well, you could come and peel the potatoes. I've never done it before yesterday and it took me ages.'
My heart bleeds for him. I think of pasta, rice aned Tesco's ready prepared mash but I decide not to suggest any of these. He'll soon get up to speed.
8th December. Alex rings. Can he come and spend the night. He has been given a surprise invitation to a surprise party for Jools' 30th birthday.
9th December. Jools' surprise party was a great success. It sounded a bit like a microcosm of English society. At least he didn'tburst into tears on entering the room full of friends and family, like Val did when her children arranged a surprise party for her sixtieth.
Jools has a new girl friend, via the internet, this time feisty Cora, mother of two. Jools had not told Alex anything about her. Alex did not think he wanted him to know how they met, having declared first they were introduced by a 'mutual friend.' Alex used his po9lice interview techniques to persuade Cora to divulge all. He is very inquisitive. He must get it from Martin.
One of Jools' brothers is a car mechanic and has a jolly but loud girlfriend who stacks shelves in MOrrisons. Then there were all the cousins who worked on the market and his friends from the factory in Newtown. Jools' other brother has become an accountant and was there with his girl friend, a smartly dressed solicitor, who, said Alex, spent the evening looking bemused as if she had just landed on the planet Zog. Rather in fact as my son-in-law Roland's friends look at Alex in his Iron Maiden T shirts.
11th December. It is arranged that Sarah, Roland and the little girls plus Alex will spend Christmas with me. Harriet, Russell and Jake are going to his family and will come to me on New Year’s Eve. I do not know whether to feel pleased that I shall be hub of household once again, surrounded by my family, or envious of Martin and Lolita who are presumably spending a quiet Christmas a deux. I start making lists and counting sheets and realise that I am delighted.
And I already have pudding, cake and mincemeat. Then I remember that they all have nuts in and Roland cannot eat nuts without going into anaphylactic shock. Never mind, Saint Delia has recipes for Chocolate Log and Trifle. I have always wanted to try that trifle recipe.
The Actuary announces that he is going to take me to Venice during the Carnival next year. He has a friend who rents a floor of a Palazzo. We can stay on after the carnival finishes when it won’t be so crowded. This is something I have always wanted to do. Like ski-ing, I remember. Surely it can’t be quite as gruelling? After all Venice is flat and I won’t have to wear those heavy boots. Decide it is safe to get excited in advance.
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this is getting to be a bit
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