The partners and teenagers have obviously learnt to work well as a team. I swear they’re better choreographed than many dances on stage. I had no idea they all care so much about Jack, they barely knew him. But they care about Bill. He’s the professor’s father after all.
We also invited Jack’s family. DeNiro leant on Cynthia until she gave him the contact details of James Bevan, his grandson and nearest relation. Not very near since he lives in Chicago. Deniro doesn’t hold out any hope; it’s a long way from Chicago, especially at such short notice. So, I am very surprised when I get a call from an American number.
“I wanted to thank you for holding this memorial for my grandfather. He mentioned you and a few other guys who were very kind to him. Do you happen to have the contact for Raphael Lewis and Evan Kendric? I want to call them too.”
“Raphael Lewis is out of the country for few months but I have an email for him.” Just saying Raff’s name feels like a kiss in my mouth. Is there such a thing as an unrequited kiss?
I had only just managed to get through a couple of hours without thinking about him. Now I have to blink, blink, blink while reciting the handbag scene fromThe Importance of Being Earnestso I can reset my mind.
To lose one parent, Mr Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune, to lose both looks like carelessness.
To lose one boyfriend is a misfortune.
I have of course emailed Raff three days ago to tell him about Jack, but I haven’t heard back. He did tell me they had no internet, not unless they ask to use the satellite link in theproducers’ office. It’s unlikely he’s even seen the message. Still, I have checked my emails every few hours in case he replied.
Stop thinking about him.
To be born, or at any rate bred, in a handbag, whether it had handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life that reminds one of the worst excesses of the French Revolution.
How long will it take him to forget me? Not long, hopefully. I’d hate for him to be sad. One sad, pathetic person in this break-up is plenty. And I’ve already been cast in that role. Didn’t I say it would be me the lovelorn Hywel, and Raff the unattainable Myfanwy? At least, I don’t write sad poetry, that would be just too pathetic.
Stop thinking about that.
You can hardly imagine that I and Lord Bracknell would dream of allowing our only daughter – a girl brought up with the utmost care – to marry into a cloak-room, and form an alliance with a parcel.
No, the handbag scene isn’t working to distract me. All I can hear is Raff’s voice doing Lady Bracknell.
Better focus on cooking. A Christmas dinner for twenty-six people. The guests from The Glyn, everyone in the house, plus five teenagers who insisted they want to eat with us and not their families. Wyn, of course doesn’t have a choice; he lives here and more recently Ricky has joined him.
He clatters into the kitchen looking for a mop and bucket.
“We have to mop the wall to scrub away all the flaky paint,” he tells me.
I’m miles away, so it takes me a minute to drag my mind into focus. Instead it’s Meredith who jumps in to shout at him when he tries to empty one of the tubs full of pealed potatoes in water.
“Don’t even think about using that.” She plants herself in his way.
“Fuck’s sake, who died and made you Voldemort?”
“Take one from under the sink.” She orders him.
“Why don’t you live under the sink?” he grumbles as he searches.
I wish they would take their squabble away. Just now I’m too fragile to cope.
My wish is not answered because Ricky can’t find what he needs, so he eyes the potato tubs again. “Why do you need so many? It’s just fucking tats. Can’t you stuff’em in a bag.”
“I’m going to tell Haneen and Evan you’re swearing. They’ll kick you out and you’ll have to go back to sleeping in a skip.”
Ricky’s face suddenly turns a blotchy red and he opens his mouth about to retort.
Sigh. This isn’t going to end by itself. Once teenagers start squabbling, it’s a full fight all the way.
“No one is telling anyone anything.” I quickly intervene. “Ricky, there are cleaning supplies in that closet. I put them in there myself.”
He doesn’t move. Meredith glares back at him.
God I could really do without this. “Let me know when the work crew is ready for a break. I can make tea and we have nice mince pies.”
