by Dyan Sheldon
“Well…” said Robert.
Caroline sighed.
“She’s got her share of opinions, that one,” said Nana Bea.
(Proving that old saying of Sky’s: It takes one to know one.)
Jack asked Robert if he needed any help.
“To tell you the truth,” said Robert as they led the way through the French doors. “I could use a veggie grill chef.”
“Brilliant,” said Jack. “I’ve been looking forward to having a chance to talk to you. I understand you’re something of an expert on the Victorians.”
Next to turn up were the Aswanis. Mrs Aswani was truly resplendent in a sari that was as bright and glittery as a Christmas tree.
“Cool,” said Tiki, taking in the Czar’s friends. “They’ve moved the revolution to the Pitt-Turnbulls’ backyard. That’s much more convenient. Plus they’re serving drinks and food.”
The Scolfields and the Jemisons arrived at the same time. The mothers were both in floaty, flowery summer dresses and the fathers and Daniel were in slacks and short-sleeved shirts, but Jocelyn looked like she’d just stepped out of a Gap ad for summer fun.
Jocelyn nodded to the rebel army that had gathered around a bowl of chips and dip. “Where did that lot come from?”
I said they were Xar’s friends.
“Ugh. They look like anarchists.” Jocelyn grimaced. “And he used to be so normal.”
“The one in the skirt would be pretty if her hair was a normal colour,” said Daniel.
Jocelyn pretended to laugh, but her eyes were glaring. “Oh, puhlease…”
It started off really well.
The Aswanis and Nana Bea got into a heavy discussion about back pain. Mr Aswani was a fellow sufferer.
“I’ve got a very good book that helped me,” said Nana Bea. “You can borrow it if you’d like.”
The Pitt-Turnbulls’ friends all swarmed around together, talking gardens.
Tiki, Rosen, Carlos and Evelina found they had a common interest in solar energy.
Jack and Robert huddled over the grills together, talking like they had to use up every word in their heads in the next hour or be turned into weevils.
And then it started to rain.
Caroline sighed. “It looks like it’s Plan B.”
I figured Plan B was cook in the kitchen.
“Nonsense,” said Robert. “Humans didn’t get where they are today by not being adaptable. Caroline, fetch the umbrellas.”
Apparently this had also happened before because Robert had two clamp-on umbrellas that he attached to bamboo poles stuck into pots on either side of the barbecues to keep the coals from going out (which was pretty ingenious for a man who’d just learned how to slice bread).
The rest of us (except for Jocelyn and Daniel who had disappeared into the house as soon as they’d said hello to everybody) beat a hasty retreat inside.
Out in the garden we all sort of milled around, but there wasn’t enough room to mill around in the dining room. We kind of broke off into two groups – the Pitt-Turnbulls’ friends around the table near the French doors where the wine was and Nana Bea, the Aswanis and the Czar’s pals more in the middle of the room. Tiki, Carlos and Evelina stopped talking about solar power and started talking about water. The Czar and the Aswanis got into a conversation about India. Celeste and Nana Bea were swapping protest stories. I was just thinking of going to see if Caroline needed any help in the kitchen when Jocelyn and Daniel finally decided to join the merrymakers. They both looked rumpled.
Jocelyn bore down on me like heat-seeking missile.
“There you are!” she called. “I was wondering where you’d got to.”
“That’s funny,” I said. “I was wondering the same thing about you.”
“I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am that I never rang you when I got back from my grandmother’s. I just didn’t have a chance.”
The girl was kindness and consideration given human form.
“That’s OK,” I said. “I was pretty busy, too.”
She didn’t ask.
Jocelyn launched into a detailed account of everything she and Daniel had been doing that had kept her so busy. It might have gone on for hours, but somewhere around “…and then we took a picnic to Kew – have you been to Kew? – oh, you really should go…” Jocelyn got distracted by something behind me. She kept talking but it was like the voice you get when you call the movie theatre to find out what time the shows are. Her eyes were staring over my shoulder like she was trying to move the furniture through telepathy.
I glanced around.
Nana Bea had moved over to join Tiki, Evelina, Rosen and Carlos. Daniel was talking to Celeste. He was standing almost on top of her (which, to be fair, was pretty hard not to do), with an expression on his face that I figured was supposed to be serious and intent but that looked more like constipation. Celeste was carrying the burden of the conversation, with Daniel nodding wisely every sentence or two.
I turned back to Jocelyn. “Isn’t that nice?” I grinned. “Daniel’s made a friend.”
She put a smile as bright as a surgical knife on her face and walked past me. I automatically followed her.
“There you are.” All warm and bubbly, she came up beside Daniel and slipped her arm around his waist. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” (No one was going to criticize Jocelyn for being too original.) She leaned her head against his shoulder. “And you are?” The warmth and bubble died out when she spoke to Celeste. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”
Celeste looked at Jocelyn for a full nanosecond. “Celeste.” She looked back to Daniel. “Anyway, as I was saying, it’s no good just giving people aid. You have to change the system that keeps them—”
Jocelyn cut her off again. “You know, I’ve always loved that picture.” She was gazing up at the portrait of Mr Bean as though it was the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. “Don’t you think it’s just brilliant?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s good,” Daniel mumbled.
Celeste spoke clearly, distinctly and loudly. “Personally, I don’t really get that sort of thing. I mean, pictures of pets … they’re nice and all, but tens of thousands of children die every day of poverty. Don’t you think it seems a bit frivolous to paint pictures of cats?”
“Well … umm…” Daniel mumbled.
“No, I don’t,” answered Jocelyn. “Art is what separates man from the beasts.”
“What crap,” snapped Celeste. “What separates man from the beasts is a death wish.”
“A death wish?” Jocelyn coughed out a few pained laughs. “Oh, puhlease. I know all about global warming and the starving millions in the Third World and all that, but we have a civilization our great-grandparents couldn’t even have imagined.”
“Oh, really?” Arguing with policemen and politicians all the time had paid off for Celeste; she had scorn down pat. “And just what is it you do with all this brilliant civilization? Go shopping?”
Since this seemed to be pretty much what Jocelyn did do with all this brilliant civilization, she answered with an attack. “And what do you do? Stand in the road, chanting?”
Celeste sneered. “Sometimes. I sure as hell do more than people like you with your shallow, self-centred consumerist existence.”
“At least I contribute to the economy.” Jocelyn had a pretty good sneer too. “And perhaps if you did a little consuming now and then you wouldn’t look like a clown.”
Celeste finally worked out how to smile. “Looking like a clown is a sight better than looking like a walking GAP ad.”
I figured it was time to stop this conversation since it was starting to look about as attractive as an open wound.
“Hey, Jocelyn.” I put a hand on her shoulder. “I think lunch is almost ready. You want to see if Caroline needs some help in the kitchen?”
Jocelyn pulled away from my touch. “You help her.”
Celeste went into mock-innocent mode. “What’s the matter? Not used to d
oing any work?”
“Me? Look who’s talking. People like you don’t want to work and make a good life for themselves. You just want everything handed to you.”
To be fair to Celeste, she stayed cool and calm for a change. “It looks to me like you’re the one who’s had everything handed to her.”
Jocelyn, however, had zipped past cool and calm and was going straight into blind fury.
“And it looks to me like you’re someone who takes everything she can get her grubby paws on.”
“Jocelyn,” I said. “I think maybe you should chill out a little. You’re getting way overheated here. Celeste didn’t do anything to you, she just—”
“She didn’t do anything to me?” Jocelyn swung around so fast I thought I was going to bite her nose. “She’s only been making moves on my boyfriend since we got here.”
Celeste making moves on Daniel was pretty much the equivalent of Subcomandante Marcos trying to get it on with Britney Spears, but I managed not to laugh out loud.
“Jocelyn, I really don’t think that—”
“Well, pardon me, but I think I know what I’ve seen with my own two eyes.”
“Do you?” I blame the confined space for what I said next. Stuffing a bunch of people into a small room is like sticking a bunch of rats in a cage. It’s unnatural and stressful. “Well, what I’ve seen with my own two eyes is your boyfriend making moves on every breathing female within a ten-mile radius.”
“I think I’ll go and see what’s happening in the garden,” said Daniel, but since Jocelyn was still wrapped around him like a snake he didn’t actually go anywhere.
Jocelyn was definitely the exception to the rule that girls look pretty when they’re angry. “I should’ve known you’d stick up for the scum of the earth. Daniel does not—”
“He made a move on you when he was going out with Sophie.”
It was a guess, but it was a pretty good one.
“It wasn’t like—”
“He made a move on me that time we went shopping.”
I think Daniel groaned, but it was hard to tell because of the shriek made by Jocelyn.
Which was quickly followed by her bursting into tears and running from the room.
“Jocelyn!” shouted Daniel, and he ran after her.
“Why can’t you ever just let anything go?” the Czar shouted at Celeste. “You never know when to stop.”
“And you never know when to start,” Celeste screamed back. “I knew it was a mistake coming here!” And she followed Jocelyn and Daniel a whole lot faster than night follows day.
“Oh, dear.” Caroline’s head had appeared at the hatch. “Is something wrong?”
The front door banged shut.
Jocelyn’s mother put down her drink. “I’m so sorry, Caroline, but I’m afraid Jocelyn’s a bit upset. We’ve had a wonderful time, but I really think we should go.”
“Oh, but you can’t leave now.” Caroline looked like she might hurl herself over the bowls of salad she’d put on the ledge of the hatch to stop the Scolfields from leaving. “You haven’t had your lunch.”
Carlos, Rosen and Evelina all looked at one another.
“Maybe we should cut, too,” said Carlos.
Evelina and Rosen were already shifting towards the door.
Mrs Jemison put down her glass. “I think we’d better be going, too. It really is getting late.”
“Please.” Caroline came charging into the dining room. “I’m certain that whatever’s happened can be easily sorted. Please stay. We’re almost ready to eat.”
But Mrs Scolfield and Mrs Jemison were already only a few steps behind the forces of the revolution.
“We must do this again before the summer’s out, Caroline.” Mr Scolfield took his car keys from his pocket. “Perhaps when it isn’t raining.”
“But—” Caroline bleated as the Jemisons and the Scolfields filed out around her. “But we’ve made all this food—”
She was still standing there when the French doors burst open and Robert and Jack stepped in with slightly wet platters of burgers.
“Good God!” Robert looked around the room. “Have we been out there that long? Has everyone gone home?”
Jack turned to the Czar. “What happened?”
The Czar made a what-do-you-think kind of face. “Celeste went off on one.”
“And Jocelyn,” I added. “Jocelyn went off on one first.”
Nana Bea shook her head. “Well, I can’t say I think much of your choice in women, Alexander. I can’t imagine why you’d be interested in someone so bossy.”
The Czar gave her a puzzled smile. “What are you on about?”
“Celeste, of course,” snapped Nana Bea. “Never mind this ‘opposites attract’ nonsense. You’d be much better off with someone more like you.”
“Celeste?” The Czar stopped smiling. “Celeste’s not my girlfriend.”
“She isn’t?” That wasn’t the impression he gave me.
“But we thought that was why you invited your friends today. So we could meet her.” Caroline was looking around the room like there might be a girl hidden behind a chair. “Who is it if it’s not Celeste?”
Jack smiled at everyone over the veggie burgers. “I think that would be me,” said Jack.
“Well, thank God for that,” said Robert.
The Final Episode In Which We Bid a Fond Farewell to the People and Places of Putney…
Caroline stopped at the front door. “Now are you sure you’ve got everything?” she asked me. “Passport? Ticket?”
Even though I’d checked that I had them, her asking me again made me think maybe I hadn’t, so I checked again.
“Got ’em.”
“And all your bits and bobs?”
“I think so.” I knew I had all the really important things – the Scottie dog pin that used to belong to Nana Bea’s sister, the signed copy of one of Robert’s mysteries, the portrait of me and Raleigh and Drake that Caroline painted and a photo of me, the Czar, Jack and Tiki outside the Goth pub in Camden.
“For God’s sake, Caroline,” shouted Robert from beside the car. “If she forgot anything we’ll post it to her. But if we don’t get a move on, we’ll be posting her.”
“You know we’re all going to miss you, don’t you?” said Caroline as we finally climbed into the car. “What with one thing and another, it’s been quite a summer.”
“You can say that again,” said Robert. “In six short weeks Cherry’s managed to totally disrupt our lives. She’s got me cooking, she’s got the Red Queen doing exercises, she’s got you painting, and – as if that wasn’t enough – she’s turned our son into a homosexual. I’d say that’s not bad going for only six weeks. God knows what would’ve happened if she’d stayed any longer.”
You had to admire the way they’d all come along, really.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” I said. It had been bothering me practically since I met them, but somehow I could never bring myself to correct them. “I’ve felt really bad about it. I mean, I know I should’ve told you before—”
Robert pulled into the road. “Good God! What else have you done?”
“It’s not something I did. It’s just—”
Caroline turned around to look at me. “For heaven’s sake, Cherry, what is it?”
“That’s the thing.” I’d been debating confessing for the last two days. But it seemed wrong not to tell them. “My name isn’t Cherry. It’s Cherokee.”
“Oh, we know that.” Caroline laughed. “I just thought Cherry was so much easier.”
“And it doesn’t sound like a car,” said Robert.
…And Say Hello Again to Good Old Brooklyn
After Jake and the kids went to bed Bachman, Bruce Lee and I went and sat on the front stoop. Even though it was dark, it was still so hot that it felt like the great Earth Goddess had cranked up the heat and forgotten about it and gone out. It was just like always. You’d think I’d never been away. Well,
almost.
Usually you couldn’t shut Bachman up, but tonight he didn’t seem to have anything to say. He just sat there, staring over at the Scutaris’.
“So,” I said. “It sounds like you had a pretty good summer after all.”
“Yeah.” He nodded at the Scutaris’ porch. “Yeah, I did.”
“I mean, Sophie wasn’t so bad, right?”
“Yeah, she was OK. Once she stopped running away from me and chilled out. When she faked that accident, she almost reminded me of you.”
I could have kicked him. What is it with guys? You can’t turn your back on them. One minute they’re all warped out of shape because you’re going away, and the next they’re having this mega-great time without you. “Trust me,” I said. “She’s nothing like me. I’ve seen her room.”
He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “Sounds like you had a good time, too.”
I said that it was brilliant. I was going to add that he would have loved it (especially all the run-ins with the law) but I decided not to. I didn’t want him to think that I would have liked him to be with me. Instead I said, “So, you think you’ll ever see the Pitt-Turnbull again?”
“Maybe.” Bachman shrugged. “I was thinking maybe on the way back from seeing Europe.”
From seeing Europe? Had aliens taken over his body while I was gone? “You? You’re going to see Europe?”
He shrugged again. “I was thinking—you know, after graduation. It doesn’t sound as bad as I thought.”
“I suppose that’s all because of Sophie.” I was trying not to sound shrill or anything, but I wasn’t sure I was succeeding.
“Sophie?” He gave me one of his will-I-ever-understand-you? looks. “What’s Sophie got to do with it. It’s because of you. You got me interested.”
You have only yourself to blame, is what Sky would have said. Why didn’t I ever listen to her? Our shoulders had been sort of touching, but I straightened up and moved a little away.
“Now what?” Bachman looked over at me. “All of a sudden you’re mad at me?”
“I’m not mad at you.”
“You’re acting like you’re mad at me.”
