Читать книгу It Takes Two - Amber Aitken - Страница 7

There was a reason why Nicks and Coral were so pleased at the sight of the kissing couple. But to understand why meant going back in time to the beginning…to the day of Great-Aunt Coral’s funeral…to the day it all began…

It was one o’clock in the afternoon and Coral was staring at the sandwich on her plate. The bread was wholewheat and nutty. Brown bird-feed bread; it was not her favourite. And one edge was hard and crusty. What was the point of crusts? She’d often wondered the same about homework. Prising open the sandwich, she stared at the dissolving egg mayo inside. It was nothing personal, but egg mayo was simply not a summer sort of sandwich filler. Now a choccie biscuit – that was a summer sort of tummy filler! She turned to the small side table. But there was not a single choccie thing in sight, and not a single biscuit left on her plate. Her eyes kept moving until they landed on Nicks’s plate. Her friend was munching on what looked suspiciously like a choccie biscuit.

Nicks looked up. “You’re staring at me, Coral,” she said, scratching her head with a face like it hurt.

“And you’re eating my choccie biscuit.” “I’m sharing your biscuit,” said Nicks, offering it back to her friend.

Coral made a huffy face, so Nicks took another nibble and made a delicate lip-smacking sound. “Fine,” was all she said.

There was no reasoning with a biscuit guzzler. So Coral shifted her attention to the rest of the people in the living room. They were all very busy eating, moving around and talking. She watched Nicks’s mother nodding gently while she listened to a group of ladies dressed smartly in brooches and hats. She ran the local post office and knew almost everyone. Coral’s own mother strolled around the room doling out stuffed eggs, mini muffins and biscuits for dunking. She made pint-sized chit-chat as she moved, always offering a smile with a small sympathetic tilt of her head. No, it just won’t be the same without Great-Aunt Coral. Oh yes, she will be dearly missed.

“It’s nice that your family has come together to remember Great-Aunt Coral,” Nicks said.

Coral nodded.

“Are you OK?” Nicks’s face was worried.

Coral nodded. The old lady was not much more than a picture in her head. She was twelve years old and yet in all that time she’d never really spent much time with her great-aunt.

Nicks was staring at her friend. “Coral, are you sure you’re all right?”

Actually, she was starving. She stared mournfully at the egg mayo growing mould on her plate. “I guess I’ll be fine, Nicks.”

“Shall I get you something?” She nodded. “A sandwich, please. And I could probably do with one of those mini-muffin things too.”

“Yes, of course.” Nicks nodded and headed for Coral’s mum and the travelling plate of snacks.

Coral remained perched on her hard chair and stared out across the room. Her grandfather had fallen asleep in his chair. An aunt (of the non-great variety) was scraping sponge cake off the fake Persian carpet. Her father was standing over a very small cousin who seemed determined to reach the handmade miniature sailing boats on the mantelpiece. Her father had dedicated months to the building of those little boats. And then her cousin Archie wafted in through the front door like a south-westerly sea breeze. He was alone.

Archie was eighteen – nine years older than Coral – and he still hadn’t got himself a girlfriend. Coral blamed the rock climbing. After all, what girlfriend wanted to watch rock climbing? Archie even did fake rock climbing, or that’s what it seemed to Coral – climbing pretend rock walls in sports centres.

Coral waved as Archie passed, but he was on course for the kitchen so she searched for Nicks again.

Her best friend seemed to be talking to a thin young woman with long, dark hair tied in a loose bun. Her eyes were red circles and matched her blotchy cheeks. Coral’s mum’s head was once again tilted with sympathy. She reached for the small plate in Nicks’s hands and offered a biscuit to the sad woman, who accepted one, taking a dainty bite. The biscuit seemed to calm her. Nicks leaned over and rubbed the young woman’s shoulders like she was caught in a blizzard and needed to stay warm…

When Nicks did finally return, Coral was still in her chair and listening to her godmother’s second rendition of the Begonia Story (she’d planted what she thought were begonia seeds only to discover that there must have been some mix-up because yellow daisies had grown instead). Coral laughed anyway.

Her godmother spied Nicks and sighed. “Nicks, darling, thank goodness,” she cried, looking quite relieved. “The sausage rolls are ready – only I couldn’t bear to see dear Coral sitting here all on her own.” And then she was gone. Coral shrugged. She understood. This was not the sort of day for anybody to be sitting alone.

“Who were you talking to?” she asked her best friend.

“That’s Gwyn,” Nicks replied. “Gwyn was your great-aunt’s homecare nurse. She’d been with her for almost two years. She’s taking all this quite badly.”

Coral nodded sympathetically and tried to catch Gwyn’s attention. The homecare nurse finally saw Coral’s smile and returned it sadly. She was wedged in between the rhubarb tarts at the edge of the food table and another blue-rinsed relative who was also asleep in a chair. Coral wondered if some company might cheer her up. The snoring wasn’t very cheery. And the rhubarb tarts didn’t seem to be doing it either.

Archie, she noticed, was now at the other end of the food table and looked lost. Rock-climbing audiences had dwindled since all the old folks had started nodding off one by one. He was standing with his hands in his pockets, gazing about the room, looking for something interesting to focus on. The wall behind him finally caught his attention and he pulled a hand from his pocket and rapped it with his knuckles. Coral watched her cousin carefully. He was examining the wall for its climbing potential! Somebody had to save him.

“What about Archie and Gwyn?” she whispered to Nicks.

‘What do you mean ‘what about them’?’” Her best friend shrugged and nodded. “Individually or as a couple?”

‘As a couple, of course,” Coral grinned.

Nicks turned sharply. The girls’ noses now touched. “You’re not thinking of playing matchmaker, are you?”

Coral was thinking of doing precisely that. But she kept her face blank. “Uh, not really. But it does look as if they could both do with a bit of company, doesn’t it?”

“Coral, this is a wake – not Valentine’s Day.” Nicks looked stern.

“I have been remembering my great-aunt all day,” Coral mumbled in self-defence. She had only just been wondering why the old lady had never married or had children. “I just think it might be nice for Archie and Gwyn to meet.”

Nicks’s face softened slightly. “An arranged meeting, you mean?”

Now she looked vaguely interested.

“I have a very small plan – it’s barely even an introduction.”

Finally Nicks gave in. “Oh, all right, tell me about it,” she said.

And Coral did, in detail. She needed her friend’s help. Nicks listened carefully and sprinkled a few sighs on the plan. She hadn’t counted on being dragged in to help. But finally she agreed.

Coral went first. She approached the food table and the plate of chocolate éclairs. There were four left. She stood with her feet slightly apart and her shoulders square, and ate three one after the other. She paused for a short moment at that point, chocolate, pastry and whipped cream fighting for space inside her. She felt her stomach shudder and inflate. There was a chance it might burst. She braced herself, but the moment passed. She would be OK.

Dabbing at her whipped cream moustache with an orange paper serviette, she gave Nicks the thumbs up. There was no time to waste. She made her way over to cousin Archie, who was now inspecting the ceiling. Perhaps this rock climber thought he was Spider-Man.

“Hi, Arch,” she said.

His eyes dropped from the ceiling and landed on her. “Hi, small fry,” he answered.

“You’ve got to try the éclairs, Archie,” she declared, like a life might depend on it.

“I do, huh?”

“Oh, yes! They. Are. Amazing. Definitely the best I’ve ever tasted.”

Archie nodded. “OK, sure.” But he didn’t move. He didn’t even budge. Coral stared at him expectantly. Did he expect waiter service?

“You have to get one now,” she pleaded, swallowing hard. The third éclair was fighting her. “There’s only one left. It’s now or never, believe me. The word is out.”

Her cousin looked a little perplexed and then finally shuffled his feet. “If you say so,” was all he said as he turned for the food table.

This was only one half of the plan. Coral searched for Nicks, who was now with Gwyn. She glanced over at Archie. He was almost at the éclairs. Would there be enough time?

Nicks was still talking. Gwyn was still listening. Now Archie was at the food table.

Finally Gwyn stood up. Nicks looked relieved and scurried back over to her friend. And together they watched the rest.

Gwyn stood over the food table and spied the éclair just as Archie reached for it.

“Oh, I am sorry,” she said apologetically.

Archie glanced from the éclair to Gwyn’s face. “Were you after the éclair?”

“No, no, you have it.”

“Please – go ahead,” urged Archie.

“You were here first.” Gwyn smiled coyly.

Archie grinned back. “Ladies first,” he reminded her.

“We could share it?”

Archie turned the idea over in his head and nodded. He reached for a knife and made a clean, precise cut down the middle. “I’ve been told they’re really delicious,” he said as he handed Gwyn her half.

She seemed surprised. “Oh, my, I’ve heard the same. They must be really good then.”

They took bites with smiling mouths and watched each other over chocolate-coated pastry. Neither seemed in a hurry to move on.

Nicks and Coral turned and gave each other fierce hugs.