Christmas at Rosie Hopkins’ Sweetshop
Page 48
‘Thank you, Mrs Hopkins,’ said Stephen.
‘No worries. I like this new cocktail. And it’s “Miss”.’
‘Dinner,’ announced Hetty.
Meridian’s head barely came over the table top. Rosie looked around for a cushion, but Angie had already whisked her into her lap. The children all looked dubiously at the soup in front of them. It was served in the finest white crockery, with a golden inlay that Rosie was pretty sure was real, and she crossed her fingers and prayed that nothing would get dropped on the floor. The children also regarded the array of cutlery in front of them with dismay.
‘Normally I only like things you can pick up with your fingers,’ said Kelly.
‘Like cake?’ said Hetty pointedly. Rosie blinked twice at her horrific rudeness.
‘Yeah,’ said Kelly. ‘Mum, I want cake?’
‘Do you want to try a spoon, Kelly sweetheart?’ said Desleigh.
‘Is it like Heinz, Mummy? I only like Heinz,’ whined Kelly. ‘Or cake.’
Just as Desleigh lifted her spoon to her lips, Hetty invited Lilian to say grace, and Rosie immediately felt like kicking absolutely everyone involved. She couldn’t help noticing, either, that Stephen had the merest hint of a twitching lip. He had to get rid of it straight away before she got exceptionally cross with him.
Lilian said a traditional grace, gently, and they all dug in.
Rosie closed her eyes. The soup was awful. It tasted a bit like what would happen if you drank the washing-up water. After it had been left to cool down in the fridge.
‘What kind of soup is this?’ said Desleigh, doing her best.
Hetty gave her a look.
‘It’s oxtail.’
‘OXTAIL?’ said Shane. ‘Gross.’ He started eating.
Kelly burst into tears.
‘Mum! I don’t want to eat tail.’
To keep her company, Meridian burst into tears too, until Rosie leaned over and whispered, ‘Spiderman? Do you think Spidermen eat their suppers?’ and Meridian thought about it and nodded fiercely and started scooping it up. Rosie wondered if it was dark enough in the room to pour hers into the suit of armour.
‘Mmm,’ said Stephen. ‘This is gorgeous.’
‘I know,’ said Hetty. Rosie narrowed her eyes at him. Was he winding her up?
‘I haven’t… It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten at home,’ said Stephen, by way of explanation. He wasn’t wearing his normal ironical look.
Rosie glanced around for bread to soak the soup up with, but there wasn’t any. Still, Shane and Meridian were doing well enough with theirs, and Angie was pretending to share her plate with Meridian, thus handily avoiding the issue. Kelly was sitting with her bottom lip stuck out, but nobody paid any attention to that.
‘So anyway,’ said Hetty in a commanding voice. It wasn’t really a surprise she had such a loud voice, Rosie supposed, growing up in a place like this. ‘I don’t think I can bear all those children in the house another minute.’
‘What’s wrong with us?’ asked Shane.
Hetty looked at him.
‘Oh, he talks,’ she said. ‘But I don’t mean you, I mean the schoolchildren. They’re getting to be quite the limit.’
Stephen wiped his mouth with his napkin.
‘They’re just being kids, Mother. It’s a good sign, shows they’re not still traumatised by the accident.’
‘But the noise!’
‘They’re just practising singing.’
‘And the running about.’
‘That’s what healthy children do.’
‘And my stag’s head.’
‘Ah yes, sorry about that. They thought it was a coat hook.’
‘And the banister.’
‘Most of them don’t live in houses with banisters. Certainly not ones so temptingly slideable.’
‘I knew a small boy who slid down a lot of banisters,’ said Lilian.
‘Nonsense,’ said Stephen. ‘I was a paragon of virtue.’
‘Virtue and sulking,’ said Hetty. ‘Well, anyway, regardless. English Heritage are going to have a total fit, and it won’t do the house any good. We’re close enough to rack and ruin as it is. If they scratch the floors any more or give it that kiddie smell, we’ll lose bookings. Someone has already decided not to have their wedding here when they turned up and found four small boys hanging off the ceremonial bridal arch by their knees.’
‘Rather a nice touch, I thought,’ said Stephen, but Hetty didn’t smile.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I have given quite enough to this village; the school has to stop. I’m sorry, Rosie.’
‘But if you close the school here…’
‘My girl, they aren’t going to repair the school. You have to get that into your head. They are not going to release the funds to fix it up. This was always a temporary arrangement… or do you expect me to run a free school for the rest of my life?’
‘No,’ said Rosie.
‘No. Well. Sooner sorted the better.’
Rosie felt, ridiculously, like she was going to cry in front of everybody.
‘Well, that will be the end of us too,’ said Lilian. ‘No children, no sweets. It’s just about that simple.’
‘Oh don’t be dramatic, Lil.’
‘I’m not. No school, no families. No families, no sweetshop.’
Hetty cleared away the soup plates, and returned with a red-raw piece of roast beef, plain boiled potatoes and some vegetables that had obviously been steaming for several days.
‘WONDERFUL,’ said Stephen, leaping up to carve. ‘I’ve slightly missed your cooking, Mum. She didn’t do it very often,’ he explained to the table.
‘Really?’ muttered Angie.
‘But when Mrs Laird was off… it was kind of a treat.’
He looked towards his mother and a rare smile passed between them.
‘Of course you can sell the cottage,’ said Lilian. ‘We might as well be honest, I’m not moving back. Too old.’
‘And you like it where you are?’ said Angie anxiously.
‘Well, as far as being bunged up in a prison for the mentally and physically incontinent goes, I suppose it could be worse,’ allowed Lilian. ‘It’s you I worry about,’ she said, pointing her fork at Rosie.
‘No worries. I like this new cocktail. And it’s “Miss”.’
‘Dinner,’ announced Hetty.
Meridian’s head barely came over the table top. Rosie looked around for a cushion, but Angie had already whisked her into her lap. The children all looked dubiously at the soup in front of them. It was served in the finest white crockery, with a golden inlay that Rosie was pretty sure was real, and she crossed her fingers and prayed that nothing would get dropped on the floor. The children also regarded the array of cutlery in front of them with dismay.
‘Normally I only like things you can pick up with your fingers,’ said Kelly.
‘Like cake?’ said Hetty pointedly. Rosie blinked twice at her horrific rudeness.
‘Yeah,’ said Kelly. ‘Mum, I want cake?’
‘Do you want to try a spoon, Kelly sweetheart?’ said Desleigh.
‘Is it like Heinz, Mummy? I only like Heinz,’ whined Kelly. ‘Or cake.’
Just as Desleigh lifted her spoon to her lips, Hetty invited Lilian to say grace, and Rosie immediately felt like kicking absolutely everyone involved. She couldn’t help noticing, either, that Stephen had the merest hint of a twitching lip. He had to get rid of it straight away before she got exceptionally cross with him.
Lilian said a traditional grace, gently, and they all dug in.
Rosie closed her eyes. The soup was awful. It tasted a bit like what would happen if you drank the washing-up water. After it had been left to cool down in the fridge.
‘What kind of soup is this?’ said Desleigh, doing her best.
Hetty gave her a look.
‘It’s oxtail.’
‘OXTAIL?’ said Shane. ‘Gross.’ He started eating.
Kelly burst into tears.
‘Mum! I don’t want to eat tail.’
To keep her company, Meridian burst into tears too, until Rosie leaned over and whispered, ‘Spiderman? Do you think Spidermen eat their suppers?’ and Meridian thought about it and nodded fiercely and started scooping it up. Rosie wondered if it was dark enough in the room to pour hers into the suit of armour.
‘Mmm,’ said Stephen. ‘This is gorgeous.’
‘I know,’ said Hetty. Rosie narrowed her eyes at him. Was he winding her up?
‘I haven’t… It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten at home,’ said Stephen, by way of explanation. He wasn’t wearing his normal ironical look.
Rosie glanced around for bread to soak the soup up with, but there wasn’t any. Still, Shane and Meridian were doing well enough with theirs, and Angie was pretending to share her plate with Meridian, thus handily avoiding the issue. Kelly was sitting with her bottom lip stuck out, but nobody paid any attention to that.
‘So anyway,’ said Hetty in a commanding voice. It wasn’t really a surprise she had such a loud voice, Rosie supposed, growing up in a place like this. ‘I don’t think I can bear all those children in the house another minute.’
‘What’s wrong with us?’ asked Shane.
Hetty looked at him.
‘Oh, he talks,’ she said. ‘But I don’t mean you, I mean the schoolchildren. They’re getting to be quite the limit.’
Stephen wiped his mouth with his napkin.
‘They’re just being kids, Mother. It’s a good sign, shows they’re not still traumatised by the accident.’
‘But the noise!’
‘They’re just practising singing.’
‘And the running about.’
‘That’s what healthy children do.’
‘And my stag’s head.’
‘Ah yes, sorry about that. They thought it was a coat hook.’
‘And the banister.’
‘Most of them don’t live in houses with banisters. Certainly not ones so temptingly slideable.’
‘I knew a small boy who slid down a lot of banisters,’ said Lilian.
‘Nonsense,’ said Stephen. ‘I was a paragon of virtue.’
‘Virtue and sulking,’ said Hetty. ‘Well, anyway, regardless. English Heritage are going to have a total fit, and it won’t do the house any good. We’re close enough to rack and ruin as it is. If they scratch the floors any more or give it that kiddie smell, we’ll lose bookings. Someone has already decided not to have their wedding here when they turned up and found four small boys hanging off the ceremonial bridal arch by their knees.’
‘Rather a nice touch, I thought,’ said Stephen, but Hetty didn’t smile.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I have given quite enough to this village; the school has to stop. I’m sorry, Rosie.’
‘But if you close the school here…’
‘My girl, they aren’t going to repair the school. You have to get that into your head. They are not going to release the funds to fix it up. This was always a temporary arrangement… or do you expect me to run a free school for the rest of my life?’
‘No,’ said Rosie.
‘No. Well. Sooner sorted the better.’
Rosie felt, ridiculously, like she was going to cry in front of everybody.
‘Well, that will be the end of us too,’ said Lilian. ‘No children, no sweets. It’s just about that simple.’
‘Oh don’t be dramatic, Lil.’
‘I’m not. No school, no families. No families, no sweetshop.’
Hetty cleared away the soup plates, and returned with a red-raw piece of roast beef, plain boiled potatoes and some vegetables that had obviously been steaming for several days.
‘WONDERFUL,’ said Stephen, leaping up to carve. ‘I’ve slightly missed your cooking, Mum. She didn’t do it very often,’ he explained to the table.
‘Really?’ muttered Angie.
‘But when Mrs Laird was off… it was kind of a treat.’
He looked towards his mother and a rare smile passed between them.
‘Of course you can sell the cottage,’ said Lilian. ‘We might as well be honest, I’m not moving back. Too old.’
‘And you like it where you are?’ said Angie anxiously.
‘Well, as far as being bunged up in a prison for the mentally and physically incontinent goes, I suppose it could be worse,’ allowed Lilian. ‘It’s you I worry about,’ she said, pointing her fork at Rosie.
