‘Yes, she is,’ Ginger agreed. ‘And kind. I thought we were going to do some tidying up today?’ she added, trying to find somewhere to sit.
‘This was the only day Louella could come,’ Grace said gravely.
‘OK, I’ll start in the kitchen. By the way, the dogs are ...?’
‘In the groomers. He picked them up in his van.’
‘Just checking. I was afraid there was a mobile dog nail-painting business too.’
Ginger escaped to the kitchen where there was no Esmerelda, thankfully, to interfere with her plans, and unpacked the supplies in her small backpack. In the car, she had huge, flat-packed boxes. She’d mentioned the plan to Declan, who said he’d drive over later with a friend’s van to bring the first load to the online seller Ginger had found if – and it was a big if – she had made enough progress to fill a van.
She looked around the kitchen and tried to figure out where to start. It probably made sense to start with the bigger boxes first, because the little boxes would necessitate lots of opening to see what was in them, and she could be hours at that. At least with the big boxes, she’d be discovering big new things that could be sold on and she’d be making more space. She found a playlist she liked on her phone and set to work.
After about forty-five minutes, she found that she’d got sort of a rhythm going. So far she’d opened seven boxes and found a doughnut maker, an ice cream maker, an incredible machine that chopped, minced and sliced, and several other vitally important household goods. From the documentation that accompanied each box, it was clear these things had been bought a couple of years ago and had simply never been used. Or taken out of the box.
‘Oh, Grace,’ muttered Ginger to herself, as she photographed the last item and placed it in a big box.
Grace, she realised, was a totally addicted shopper. The only difference between Grace and the crazy TV shows was that Grace’s stuff was pretty much new and unused, unlike some of the unfortunates on the television programmes who had piles of utterly ancient things that hid lots of mice droppings and generally dead mice too. At least, Ginger thought with a shiver, she hadn’t come across any mice droppings so far.
Declan phoned by the time she was filling the second box.
‘How’s it going, sis?’ he asked. ‘Do you need me around with the van?’
‘Actually, I think I do,’ said Ginger. ‘I’ve nearly filled the second big box and I’ve got quite a lot of stuff here. Judging from how much Grace paid for this stuff, she could make a tidy sum if she sold it all.’
‘Yess,’ said Declan, drawing out the word slowly. ‘But you never make anything like the same money back on the resale, even if things are brand new and still in their boxes.’
‘I know,’ agreed Ginger. ‘But it’s the only way I could get her to agree to this. I told her that if we sold the stuff she hasn’t used, she could buy lots of new stuff.’
‘Isn’t that enabling?’ asked Declan.
Ginger agreed. ‘But it’s either that or have Grace and Esmerelda swallowed up by boxes of crazy kitchen implements and becoming mummified by dog hair.’
‘What time will I come over with the van?’
‘Can you give me another two hours and then come over?’
‘No prob,’ said Declan. ‘Good luck, sis.’
Once she’d hung up, Ginger decided to go into the big sitting room to see how the beautification process was going on. As Esmerelda’s toes were now done, she and Grace were sitting back watching the shopping channel with great interest while holding their nails aloft.
Grace turned to Louella. ‘My great-niece is famous, you know,’ she said in confidential tones. ‘She had a beautiful spread in the newspaper today. Looks amazing, doesn’t she, Esmerelda?’
‘Very sexy,’ agreed Esmerelda. ‘You get a man no problem, or woman. I not forget, you might like woman.’
Ginger went puce. ‘You mean you’ve seen my pictures in the paper?’ she demanded.
‘Of course,’ said Grace. ‘Esmerelda got it first thing. Do you think we’d miss that?’
‘I wasn’t sure if you knew about it,’ said Ginger, feeling the embarrassment surge.
‘We not forget about it,’ said Esmerelda, walking on her heels over to a pile of newspapers and extracting the magazine with careful fingers. She showed Louella the front-page picture and Ginger cringed a little, the thought of this beautiful, lithe young girl looking at her with her boobs stuck out.
‘You look beautiful,’ said Louella.
‘She does, doesn’t she?’ said Grace proudly. Then she turned to Esmerelda. ‘Esmerelda, she doesn’t want a woman. She told you that. It’s a man she’s after.’
‘Beggars can’t be choosers,’ said Esmerelda loftily.
