by Suzy K Quinn
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I have no idea why I’m crying.’
‘It’s a big decision, isn’t it love?’ said Dad. ‘You and Alex. Lots of changes. Where you live, who pays for what and a new family for Daisy. Those Daltons have their problems, don’t they? It’s a great big leap of faith. Who knows how it will turn out?’
I cried even more then.
‘It’ll be fine love,’ said Mum, ruffling my hair, so curls fell all over my face. ‘If Catrina Dalton gives you any trouble, she’ll have me to answer to.’
Which is pretty much what I’m afraid of.
Wednesday 4th July
Texted Alex to apologise for being ‘a bit off’ since the camping trip.
He texted back to say he didn’t have a clue what I meant.
The good thing about Alex’s dysfunctional upbringing? His assessment of ‘weird and distant’ is decidedly different from mine. A few days apart is normal to him.
‘Weird and distant’ isn’t ideal. But when you get past the weirdness and distance, Alex is a beautiful person. More impressive than anyone I’ve ever met – except for Daisy, of course.
Alex is going to ‘swing by’ later to talk wedding plans, so I’d better tidy the house, take out the recycling mountain etc.
Cousin John Boy is a neat and tidy housemate, crushing all his Stella Artois cans and neatly folding his KFC bags in the recycling containers, but my wine and Guinness bottles are more conspicuous.
Where will Alex and I live when we get married?
I can’t picture Alex living here.
And I can’t imagine living at the Dalton Estate, with its housekeeper, acres of grounds, swimming pool, horses and regular visits from Catrina Dalton.
Better go.
Daisy and I are catching the train to London.
Althea is holding a Fourth of July family love-in this afternoon to celebrate America’s freedom from British imperialistic tyranny.
The party will be huge, but luckily so is Althea’s three-storey Bethnal Green home and rambling ‘pot-luck’ garden.
Technically, guests should be family only, but Althea has a big heart and many extended family members, including at least 50 randoms she’s met at music festivals.
Evening
Just got back from Althea’s Fourth of July family love-in.
I’ve never seen so many tissue-paper hearts over one back garden. They were a swaying, swishing pink sky of joy.
Althea looked beautiful in her red sari, with rainbow glitter in her lengthy, black curls and a heart bhindi on her forehead. And little Wolfgang was handsome as a moustached, axe-wielding Jack of Hearts.
It was heart-warming to see Althea and her many ex-boyfriends, Wolfgang’s dad, Wolfgang’s maternal and paternal grandparents, plus a load of festival randoms all sharing the love in a non-sexual way.
Mid-afternoon, Althea made us all join in a big ‘love circle’ while Wolfgang’s dad played ‘It’s So Easy to Fall in Love’ on a sitar.
Althea put her arms around me and Tara, Wolfgang’s paternal grandmother, and we all swayed and sang to celebrate love and peace. It was a moment of divine connection, although I must admit – marred slightly by Wolfgang pick-axing a heart piñata to death in the middle of the love circle.
‘This is what I want,’ I told Althea. ‘Blended family bliss. Me, Nick, Alex and Alex’s mother all getting along.’
‘So bring the love,’ said Althea. ‘And the elderflower vodka.’
‘I don’t see it happening,’ I said. ‘And my life is messy enough already. I can’t bring Daisy into another dysfunctional mother-in-law situation. Two messes do not make a tidy.’
‘Then tidy the mess.’
‘Do you think that’s possible?’ I asked.
‘Whether you think you can, or think you can’t, either way you’re right,’ said Althea. ‘But don’t tell anyone I said that.’
‘Why not?’ I asked.
‘It’s a quote from Henry Ford,’ said Althea. ‘The man who ruined the planet with modern motorcars.’
Assured Althea I’d keep quiet.
‘Look, families always have issues,’ said Althea. ‘As long as you’ve got love, you can do anything. Wolfgang’s dad is an idiot. No offence to Tara here. But idiots need love too. So it works. Think positive. Say it to yourself all the time: one big happy blended family.’
‘How can I get along with Alex’s mother?’ I asked.
‘You’ve got to visualise success,’ said Althea. ‘Imagine you and Catrina Dalton bonding and having a lovely time. You can do anything with visualisation. An example – I visualised Wolfgang playing peacefully with other children at this party. The universe delivered. He shared his flapjack with a soul cousin.’
Further probing revealed that Wolfgang had rammed an unappealing beetroot and carrot flapjack into another child’s face. But I suppose it’s one up from stealing kids’ food.
Maybe Catrina and I can get along. It’s possible.
But possible isn’t the same as probable.
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