‘Mummy said yesterday when we were on the way home from school that you’re quite annoying. That she doesn’t like her spatulas moved around. What’s a spatula, Nanna?’ Alice cocked her head sideways and looked at Joyce. Dawn stopped dead as she walked into the kitchen to witness this scene and overhear Alice gaily telling Joyce all her secrets; she blushed. That girl was far too much like her no-filter Nanna, Dawn inwardly fumed – that DNA must be pretty strong.
‘Well,’ Joyce said, bending back up from loading the dishwasher and looking pointedly at Dawn, ‘it’s a plastic cooking utensil you use to scrape things out of bowls – like chocolate cake mix!’ She tickled Alice under the chin. Then she carefully carried on unloading the dishwasher.
‘Joyce, you know I didn’t mean that!’ Dawn laughed, staring at Alice and motioning with her hand across her throat that she would kill her, behind Joyce’s back. ‘I meant it’s quite annoying not finding all the things you’re used to finding in the kitchen.’
‘No, Mummy, you said “Nanna is quite annoying to have around”.’
‘I don’t think you heard me right, did you, Alice? Now off you go and tell your brother to wash his hands.’ She pushed Alice through the door quickly as her daughter seemed to be making things worse the more she spoke.
Dawn helped Joyce unload the rest of the plates.
‘All ready for the big day?’ Joyce was stacking plates in the cupboard.
‘Yes, there will be quite a few of us on Christmas Day. I’ve invited Rex and Suzie, poor thing, because, of course Suzie still doesn’t speak to her mother. Things are improving, but it’s still hard for her at Christmas.’
‘Can you imagine?’ Joyce shook her head. ‘It’s so sad, and all because of some argument, you say?’
Dawn didn’t want to dwell on her friend’s family life and her secrets, didn’t want to talk about her behind her back, explain that actually half the problem was that Suzie’s mother was as neurotic as her daughter. It all started, apparently, when Suzie, an only child, was sent to boarding school and she hated it, had always blamed her parents. She had once told Joyce briefly about Suzie having attended boarding school. Dawn had never understood why, especially when you only had one child, you’d send them away. What was the point? Apparently, it had been so that she didn’t get spoilt.
Suzie had probably been making up for the lack of love and parenting ever since. Her need to control everything must come from feeling out of control as a child. Dawn scratched her head. Well, that might explain some of it. She had listened to Suzie tell her about how her parents had always wanted to do the right thing. They owned a massive house near Chichester; her dad was a keen sailor. Suzie was given a good education, the university followed, holidays abroad but all she had really wanted, she’d told Dawn one drunken night in a wine bar, was a brother or sister. That was partly why she was so keen for her own children – to build a family – to have the messy, chaotic family life she’d yearned for herself.
‘Yes, well things aren’t always how they seem, Dawn, you know.’ Joyce looked pointedly at her, interrupting her psychoanalysis of Suzie.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Her parents could have had reasons to send her to boarding school.’
‘What reasons? They sound stuck-up to me – they wanted “the best” and look where it’s got them.’
‘Don’t be too quick to judge. You’ve only heard Suzie’s point of view.’
‘Yes, yes I expect you’re right.’ Dawn nodded, a bit distracted as she suddenly remembered her to-do list.
‘I’ve ordered the turkey and Eric mentioned something about pheasants—’ She rolled her eyes heavenward. She really didn’t like pheasants, but Eric had got one from some of his clients, and he’d found it hard to say no. Money was always a little tight this time of year, so it would mean that the Christmas dinner would go a bit further, especially as she’d asked Suzie and Rex, and now Charlie as she felt so sorry for her in the café – and to bring Tyler if she wanted, and she’d mentioned it to Daniel, who seemed delighted and said it would be lovely to have Christmas with friends.
Dawn felt herself glow. She felt she was brimming over with kindness; how she loved helping others who were less fortunate (in various ways) than herself. She was sure everyone would get on. It was going to be absolutely perfect.