Poppet

An Angel

SOMETIMES THINGS ARE so beautiful you can tie yourself in knots trying to explain them or capture them. Maybe it’s Mum’s death, and the way he remembers her, or maybe it’s simply that AJ is a grown-up now – whatever, he’s learned to accept beauty when it comes his way, appreciate it, and believe it will come to him again. He doesn’t care that it’s a bit new-age, wisdom-of-the-universe stuff. It’s the way he’s learned to view the world.

Except there’s one problem with it. Because – while it’s easy to look out of his window at the acres of green, at the boundless cloudy horizon – and accept and believe in it all and its continuity – he finds he can’t accept the fact that Melanie Arrow is sitting here at the old kitchen table, eating Patience’s nine p.m. breakfast. He simply can’t believe it and he can’t help wanting to own it and contain it. Wishing he’d done it earlier yet at the same time being glad he waited until it was right. It’s as if Mum is sitting in the corner smiling contentedly at Melanie – proud and glad that at last he’s done the right thing. Because an angel may as well have plopped down in their cottage. Someone to transform him – make him a better person.

‘More?’ Patience stands with her hand on her hip, the skillet in her hand, looking down her nose at Melanie, who has just, generously, consumed a pile of sausages, eggs, coconut ‘bammy’ cakes and fried pumpkin. Apparently the pumpkin patch is going crazy and Patience seems determined to feed every last one to Melanie. Not to mention the lovage brandy she keeps slopping into her glass. ‘Don’t you want to eat more?’

AJ digs his teeth into the mug he’s sipping coffee from, vowing not to speak or interfere. If Mum was still alive she’d say that Patience has really got her sass out tonight. Melanie is the biggest challenge Patience has had in years. Probably since the 50–1 she backed at Kempton Park. She is all scrutiny, subjecting the first girlfriend her nephew has brought home in years to a stewards’ inquiry. The giveaway fail for Melanie will be any food cowardice. For AJ, Patience wants big, child-bearing women with huge breasts and hips. The slightest hint of a food hater will turn her into a mean-eyed bitch from hell.

‘Some dumpling? Haddock? I’ve got haddock poached in milk – I can do you a bowl with a dumpling and a bit of toast to soak it up? Some more of my lovage brandy?’

The breakfast Patience has provided is the most elaborate to have graced this table in living memory. Melanie has been appreciative to a fault, but there has to be a tipping point.

‘I was supposed to be on a diet,’ she tells Patience. ‘But honestly, you’ve got diet saboteur written across your forehead.’

She’s trying to humour Patience, but instead of a smile she’s rewarded with more food ladled on her plate. Patience turns away, unimpressed – still challenging. Melanie eats dutifully, her eyes on Patience’s back. She casts AJ the occasional brave glance and he nods encouragingly. He wants to explain in more detail – this is your initiation ceremony, Melanie. You’re doing well, it won’t always be like this … But maybe she’s already worked that out, because she applies herself to the task with a ferocity he’s only seen her use in the clinic.

She finishes the plate. Delicately dabs her mouth, then hands it to Patience, who takes it without a murmur. She doesn’t offer Melanie any more food.

It means the test has been passed.