The Last Supper

 

THE LAST SUPPER

 

[Extract from “The Prologue of Jemma Raglan”]

© 2016 T.R.E.

 

        Jemma is in the bedroom, but she’s listening because they’re talking quietly like when there’s things they don’t want Jemma to hear. Her dad says to her mother, the old boy’s not doing so good Di, and Jemma’s mother says something back, but her dad just says yeah, I think we’d better go round to see him this weekend. They’re not talking about Jemma’s Bolton grandpa, her dad never goes to visit him and her nan because they don’t get on, so they have to be talking about her Bartel Street grandpa, and saying it like he must be sick.

        The next Sunday he’s in the kitchen when they get there and Jemma thinks he looks a lot older than the last time they visited. She knows it wasn’t very long ago, but he just looks, sort of, older. Hullo young Janey, he says to Jemma. Hullo grandpa. Hullo Tuppence, he says to Joey, and Joey smiles but goes shy and looks down at her shoes and gets in close behind Jemma.

        It’s a cold and drizzly day, and the grownups sit and talk for a while and have cups of tea. Jemma’s grandpa keeps getting up and going out the back to the lavatory, but he walks slowly, and he looks really tired, and he seems to have lots of dark around his eyes. Jemma wants to say something to him, so she waits at the door for him each time, and he pats her on the head when he comes back, but she doesn’t say anything, because sometimes there are things that go around inside of you that there just aren’t any words for. Not everything has words.

        After a while Jemma’s grandmother says well, I’d best get the lunch on I spose, and Jemma and Joey look at each other. They’re both thinking about their grandmother’s boiled onions and boiled chops, and Joey makes a face at Jemma. But their grandpa says no, I’M cookin today. The old lady looks surprised. No, I’ll look after it Alby, you need your rest. Rest be buggered he says, and sits up straighter. Now Jemma is surprised too, but mostly because she’s never heard her grandpa swear. I’m havin at least one decent bloody meal before, but then he stops and he doesn’t say before what. I’m havin a really decent meal, is all he says, then he looks at Jemma and he sort of brightens up, like his face goes softer. And young Janey and the nipper here can help me, he says to her. Jemma nods her head so Joey nods her head too. Right then you two, lets get into it he says, and rubs his hands together.

        Jemma’s grandpa shoos everyone else out and takes over the kitchen, just him and Jemma and Joey, and he gets them started on shelling a big bowl of peas. He says that pea shellers have to whistle while they work so they can’t sneak a few, but Jemma doesn’t know how to whistle so she just blows through her lips and tries not to laugh, and so does Joey but it’s already too late and two peas come shooting out of Joey’s mouth and bounce off the table and onto the floor. Their grandpa raises his big hairy eyebrows and says well, THAT’S a couple for the mice I reckon, and Joey goes really red in the face, but their grandpa is grinning like it’s the funniest thing he’s seen all week.

        He puts a lump of meat in the baking pan and shoves more wood into the fire and pokes it around, and even though it’s cold and wintry outside it’s warm and cosy in the kitchen. He digs a lot of brown fat out of a pot and spoons it into the pan and the pan goes into the stove, then he peels some potatoes and parsnips and chops up some onions and puts them in the pan too. How’s them peas going young Janey, I can’t hear too much whistling. We’re nearly finished grandpa Jemma says, and blows air through her lips some more and so does Joey, and they laugh while they’re doing it and it comes out whiiih whiiih whiiih whiiih. Jemma sees her dad peeking around the kitchen door at the three of them, and he does a little smile, a secret sort of a smile, and Jemma thinks his face looks really kind when he smiles like that.

        Her grandpa peels a lot of carrots and cuts them up into a saucepan. Right, next we want some mint for the sauce, he says. You and Tuppence can pick that for me can’t you. Yes grandpa Jemma says, and Joey says yes grandpa too.

        Jemma knows which mint to pick, and takes the tops off the new shoots. Joey grabs a whole plant and pulls it clean out of the ground. JOEY, Jemma says. Like this. Joey looks at what’s in her own hand and then how Jemma does it. She tries to do the same but up comes another whole plant. JOEY. LIKE THIS, and she shows her sister again. Joey finally does it right and soon they’ve got lots of mint. LOTS of mint. Whoooo, this should keep us going for a while, her grandpa says and he smiles at both of them.

        They can smell the meat in the oven, like the kitchen is full of it, and it smells delicious, just like real cooking, and next Jemma’s grandpa shows her how to make HIS special mint sauce. First you chop up your mint like this he says, and with a sharp knife he cuts up their big pile until it’s a small pile. Okay, now you put it in this bowl, and Jemma scoops it all up and puts it in the bowl as Joey watches over the edge of the table. Now ya stick in a splash of boiling water, but I’d better do that, and her grandpa pours some in from the kettle. Okay young Janey, put in about three spoons of sugar and give it a really long stir and Jemma does what her grandpa says. Where’d you learn to cook grandpa, Jemma asks. It’s because she’s never seen him cook before. She’s never seen any man cook before. He goes quiet and the two of them look at each other. Oh I used to cook for me mates, he says. When I was a soldier. They were all hopeless as cooks, so I got the job otherwise we would’ve all starved, and Jemma thinks he looks as though he’s sad. Sad in the eyes.

        Okay, that’s enough stirring, he says. You Tuppence, give us that bottle there, and Joey scrambles around the table to get the bottle for him. This is MALT vinegar, he says to Jemma. Ya don’t use anything else, alright. Yes grandpa, MALT vinegar. Okay, pour in about six big glugs, and he steadies Jemma’s hand as she pours.

        Very slowly he puts the bottle down, nods his head, rubs his finger backwards and forwards under his nose. Right, he says, now we’re done. Thanks for helping me cook the dinner you two, I couldn’t have done it without you, and one at a time he lays his big hand on the top of their heads and keeps it there, keeps it there longer than he usually does. We’ll never forget THIS dinner, will we eh, and his eyes go a bit watery. You’re good girls, he says quietly. Don’t let anyone ever tell ya different.

 

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