Читать книгу Nicky & Lou - Nataniël - Страница 11

My great-aunt used to live in a large house with many chimneys, little towers above the windows and an organ in the sitting room. Although the house was surrounded by a beautiful garden filled with magnolia trees, it was a scary place with many dark corners. We only visited the house for unhappy occasions like wakes, funerals or buffets.

In the entrance hall stood a large table with carved legs and an open Bible. Above the table a huge photograph of the entire family hung against the wall. Although the photographer had screamed, Here we go! Watch the birdie! and Say Cheese! nobody had smiled. Grandfather said it was because of the teeth. Our family had the worst teeth in the world.

The one with the strangest teeth was Uncle Vernon, he looked like there was a wind blowing in his mouth, all his teeth were leaning to the left. The one with the most teeth was Uncle Victor, he had rows and rows of them, each one a different length, his mouth looked like New York at night. The one with the fewest teeth was old Aunt Veronica. She didn’t lose them, her teeth just stood everywhere in her mouth with huge distances between them. We called her the graveyard. The one with the biggest teeth was Uncle Vincent. He had nothing at the bottom, just a top row of enormous off-white levers. We called him the piano.

The only one with perfect teeth was our niece, Vernise. Vernise had a set of brilliant white, even-sized teeth. The problem was her mouth. She had one of those large, protruding mouths that looked like it was approaching you while she was staying behind. Sometimes Grandfather would make her hold a looking glass in front of her one eye and send her into the sitting room. When the children saw this big mouth with the big eye coming round the corner, they started screaming and ran to their rooms.

I love that child, Grandmother used to say, But you cannot look at her, especially if you’ve had alcohol.

The truth was that you could not look at anybody. So we always drank wine looking down. Grandfather said the reason ghosts didn’t have teeth was that we had them.

Every Christmas was spent at our grandparents’ house. Grandmother was the best cook in the world and filled the table with colourful, summery dishes. Then one year my great-aunt arrived with a large steamed pudding.

Did you burst a vein? asked Grandmother, The British put us in concentration camps and you want us to eat their food?

Before she put it on the table, Grandmother poured so much custard over the pudding, nobody could see it. Nobody said a word, but it was delicious. We ate in silence. Until there was a loud cracking noise and we looked up and saw one half of Vernise’s front tooth was missing.

Oh, said my great-aunt, She got the penny.

You put money in the pudding and you don’t tell us? screamed Grandmother, That child already has the mouth of death and now there’s a hole in it!

That night my grandfather sent Vernise into the sitting room with the looking glass and made her whistle through the hole. The children stayed in their rooms for days.

Grandmother did not speak to my great-aunt for almost a year. Then just before the next Christmas our cousin Voster bit his opponent during a Christian boxing match and got arrested. The court ordered that his two front teeth be pulled and he be put in jail for sixty days. Grandmother cried through the night, then she phoned my great-aunt.

We can fix the teeth, she said, But I cannot cook a Christmas meal knowing that boy is in jail. I have to make that British thing and get him out.

Grandmother got the recipe, found an enormous bowl and started mixing the ingredients. Then she poured the batter into a large glass bowl and placed it on top of a saucepan with simmering water. Just before she covered it, she dropped a screwdriver in the batter.

Grandmother had just left the kitchen when grandfather came in, opened the pudding and dropped a knife in the batter. Two minutes later Uncle Vernon entered and dropped a small pistol in the batter. Three minutes later Uncle Victor entered with a file and a small bomb. Four minutes later Aunt Veronica entered and dropped her husband’s revolver in the batter.

On Christmas morning our whole family arrived at the jail with a large steamed pudding. The pudding was so heavy it had to be pushed on a wheelbarrow.

I don’t know what went wrong, Grandmother kept saying, I just doubled the ingredients.

Every metal detector in the building went off as we entered. Grandmother looked at the guards.

There’s a penny in the pudding, she said, It’s Christmas.

She looked really, really sad. The rest showed their teeth and Vernise whistled softly. The guards went to fetch Voster. We all cried and hugged him and looked at his gap. Then we gave him the pudding.

The day after Christmas 52 prisoners escaped.

Grandmother said she didn’t feel guilty, she knew it was the right thing to do. She just didn’t understand how so many people could get out with one screwdriver.

And every Christmas after that she made steamed pudding. She just changed the ingredients, so it wouldn’t be British. And she never put money in. We had bad enough teeth already.

(from the Room for Dessert stage production, 2009)