Getting Organised. Carolyn Caterer

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СКАЧАТЬ (albeit as a fairly young child), the introduction of the welfare state and the swinging sixties with all the excitement which that entailed. Oh yes, Mabel was far from the boring provincial housewife. She had led an active life and wanted to ensure that the same held true for those that she took under her wing. It seemed in these times of abundance people were increasingly settling for lives half lived and she was determined to ensure that those people she chose to take an interest in would never fall into this category, but would instead discover a life of opportunity and fun. She felt instinctively that Abigail was the kind of person that was just waiting for something to happen and that made Mabel even more determined to help her in any way she could.

      Chapter 3

      Abigail surveyed her garden with mounting trepidation, mixed together with feelings of both horror and excitement. She had always wanted to grow her own vegetables but had been overruled by her ex-husband on the basis that vegetable plots would indicate an inability to afford items from the supermarket. What he did not realise was that Abigail was in fact a number of years ahead of her time and she watched in mesmerised fascination as celebrity chefs took up the mantle of ‘grow your own’ and longed to be doing just that. It was somewhat unfortunate that she was married to a man who sneered at people who got their hands dirty and wanted his vegetables vacuum packed and pre-prepared.

      Of course, now she had a house of her own, she could indeed have that vegetable patch. Unfortunately, one of the first things she discovered on moving in was that the previous owners of her house had no interest in gardening at all and had turned it into a desert of paving slabs and gravel, much of which had now been overrun with weeds and which, during her two rain-soaked viewings, Abi had mistakenly thought was a large lawn due to the amount of green that she was observing through the kitchen window. The reality of course turned out to be rather different and Abigail wondered how long it would take her to transform the sizeable plot into something productive and where exactly one starts in a situation such as this.

      Fortunately fate seemed to be on her side as she heard a knock at her front door and, happy to have an excuse to delay any major decisions, hastened to answer it.

      Mabel was a little surprised at the warm welcome she received from the woman who opened the door to her, dressed in what was evidently her less than best attire; ripped jeans and faded t-shirts may be the fashion, but Mabel felt it was rather letting the side down to be seen by relative strangers dressed in such apparel and hoped that this wasn’t going to become a habit.

      She was soon relieved to find the cause of this casual dress as Abigail invited her in for a cup of tea and some rather delicious home made biscuits.

      ‘Please excuse my less than appealing clothes Mabel, but I was planning to do some gardening.’ Abigail felt a need to explain herself in the presence of a woman who appeared so confident and gave off an air of someone who had accumulated years of knowledge about a good many things. She wondered if you could become confident simply through dressing correctly. Looking at Mabel she couldn’t imagine her slouching around the house in stained shirts or ripped trousers. Abi began to feel like a tramp next to her immaculately turned out neighbour. How was it that some people just looked ‘neat’ and others, like her, could spend all afternoon at the hairdresser and then, by the time they got home looked as if they had not bothered with their appearance at all? It seemed a little early in her relationship with Mabel to start asking such personal questions, but all the same, she really wanted to know, as maybe that would stop her feeling so inferior.

      ‘Ah gardening. At last! Just what this house needs. The last owners spent all their time commuting up and down to London and then doing nothing much at weekends. Probably far too tired after battling with the appalling train service we have down here. Anyone would think we lived in the Outer Hebrides from the way our train service takes so long and lets us down so often, not in North East Hampshire.’ Mabel realised she was digressing from the delights of talking about gardening, but Abigail didn’t seem remotely bothered by this.

      ‘The thing is I feel rather overwhelmed by the whole garden challenge.’ Continued Abigail rather more apologetically than she had first intended.

      ‘My dear that is completely understandable. The garden has been so neglected; why even someone with my knowledge would be finding it a challenge and I gather that you are perhaps a bit of a novice in the gardening department?’

      Abigail blushed with embarrassment. All those years trying to be the perfect wife, yet she had learnt very little that was of use to her now. If only she had stood up for herself and insisted that she would take on the role of looking after the garden and had forced David to agree to a vegetable patch, she wouldn’t be sitting here now having to explain her lack of gardening skills to Mabel, who appeared to be the kind of woman that could turn her hand to anything.

      ‘I really want to have a vegetable patch. That is my priority, but I need to put in some raised beds, that I do know. What I don’t know is where to get the sleepers for the beds and a decent amount of topsoil. I feel such an amateur!’ Abigail’s frustration at her lack of gardening skills was plain for Mabel to see, but she wasn’t going to let her fall at the first hurdle.

      ‘Abigail.’ Began Mabel.

      ‘Oh please, call me Abi.’ Abigail had never been called Abi by anyone in her life. In fact her grandmother had expressly forbidden the use of this common nickname and so as usual she had got her way and Abigail remained Abigail up until now.

      ‘Of course. Abi. I can point you in the direction of a complete godsend in the name of Roger. He’s a lovely chap who lives a few miles away and is great for all the heavy work. He will give you a quote for the sleepers and the topsoil and get it all delivered to you promptly and for a good price – just mention my name. Plus he never leaves a mess, which believe me, in a job that involves loads of mud, is a rare and precious quality! The good thing, about all the houses in our cul-de-sac, is that there is side access to all the back gardens. I do not think you would want half a ton of mud and sleepers being traipsed through your house: Roger will be able to sort it all out and at least it doesn’t matter if you are here or not as he can just get on with it. He is totally trustworthy and will do a great job, or have me to answer to!’

      ‘Oh Mabel you are an angel’ Abi could feel herself warming to this woman who couldn’t be less like her grandmother if she had tried. Mabel was easy to talk to and Abi could tell that they were going to get on very well indeed.

      Chapter 4

      Serena Brown-Davis surveyed the perfectly cooked lemon meringue pie, which she had taken out of the oven a mere five minutes earlier and wondered if it would be too hot to eat. She knew that she really didn’t need to check it as she was a very good cook, having been a chalet girl in the 1980’s (after gaining a first class honours degree in French) and the perfect hostess for the many dinner parties which she had thrown on behalf of her husband and his city firm.

      However it was impossible to resist the crisp top of the meringue which soon gave way to the soft whipped egg white and the dense feel of the lemon filling, before the knife broke through the crisp pastry below.

      She could resist no longer and, taking the knife from its wooden block, sliced into the pie, marvelling at the way everything melded together as the blade made its way through her work of art. She placed the slice carefully on the plate, added a copious amount of extra thick double cream (what a shame she hadn’t bought any clotted cream this week) and then picked up a pastry fork in full anticipation of the delights that were about to dance over her taste buds.

      Serena had the perfect life, or so it seemed to those around her. A talented student, she had been brought up to believe that the best thing she could do would be to support a good husband who would look after СКАЧАТЬ