Page 18 of Little Wing
KitKat finger number two. Did she remember? Oh, Nell hoped she did!
Nell kept going. ‘And the waiter in the prim uniform with his nose in the air, he looked – appalled, disgusted. And before I could even think of crying, let alone apologizing – to him to you – you said,It was an accident, Mr Snooty – bring us fresh cakes and shove your attitude in the bin with all of this.’
And Nell remembered it all. She remembered being only momentarily mortified by her mother’s reaction and by the posh people staring. The far stronger emotions of feeling protected and feeling proud, they were what had lasted.
‘What day is it?’ The KitKat was finished.
‘It’s Saturday.’
‘Is it.’
‘It is – all day!’
Nell watched her mother take the teacup to her lips, listened to her sip and sip and sip as if her mother’s thoughts were keeping time with each. It was a peaceful day today. She hated it when her mother was agitated.
‘Do you want me to take you out? For a drive? It’s a lovely day – you canfeelthe spring.’
Her mother sip, sip, sipped. Then she got up from her chair and took the cup and the saucer and the plate to the little bathroom. Nell could see her washing everything.
‘Here, I can do that. Let me—’
There was a pause, just a short one but long enough for the change to be manifest.
‘You’ll do no such thing. I’m not a cripple. I’m not an invalid.’
Nell physically slumped. She thought, come back, Mum – come back. And she thought, please, please don’t go just yet.
Think of something!
‘I heard Aunt Em came to visit!’ Nell rushed. ‘We could go and visit her one day – tomorrow, if you like. You like my little car! And it’s an easy drive.’
But her mother didn’t respond. She was holding the plate, the cup and the saucer. She carried it, as if in procession, slowly and reverentially, and she held the china out to Nell. ‘Here.’
‘But – they’re yours.’
‘Take them.’
‘I don’t want them, Mum. You love that cup!’
‘Take.’
‘And now you have the plate and you can look at Elizabeth and remember about her hair—’
‘Take them.’
‘They’re special to you. Your dad swearing and your mum telling you off for breaking the plate.’
‘I broke the plate the day we were given them.’
‘I know – but I fixed it. It’s a trio once more.’
‘It cannot be fixed.’ Her mother looked at her very levelly. ‘It is not my plate. It doesn’t belong here. It belongs to a long, long time ago. There was a trio – but then there wasn’t.’
‘But Mum—’
‘Stop calling me that – what’s wrong with you?’ She was pulling at her hair again.
Nell’s thoughts were in a rapid scurry. If I leave it she’ll break it. Stupid bloody plate. Thirteen quid. I’ll put it back on eBay. I’ll do it Buy It Now for £15. Plus £3.50 p&p.
