Who Does She Think She is?

Tags

99 cone, Aliens Order Act, Art Deco cafe, Dean Martin, Ginevra, Ginevra de' Benci, Glasgow Botanic Gardens, Gothic Line, Great Western Road, Leonardo da Vinci, Magda, Nardini's, Pollokshields, Silver Slipper Cafe, Tiger

Ginevra and her granddaughter had been getting along very well ever since Tiger had started to record the story of her grandmother’s roots in Scottish/Italian culture.

Ginevra had been dewy-eyed at her own reminiscence and even Magda, her carer, had been seen to wipe away a tear at the tale of Ginevra’s first love for Gianbattista Pomodoro, whose father, Luca, had been an early immigrant to Glasgow and had started up his ice cream parlour business modestly, graduating from a handcart to an Art Deco café, complete with soda jerk gadgetry.

Born in 1885, he had fled poverty, in the same way that Nardini and others had arrived in that cold and dreich country.  Luca’s Tuscan first wife had been tragically killed when a section of guttering had fallen from a tenement roof and struck her on the head.  He married Catherine Reid, in 1920 and she helped him to expand into fish and chips with the help of a business loan from the Societa di Mutto Soccorso.  Gianbattista was born in late 1920 and he and Ginevra, who had been working in one of the cafes, spent some passionate months together, going down to the ice cream cafes in Largs for day trips, before Gian had been tipped off that the Aliens Order Act was about to be enforced and internment was a very real possibility for him.

He escaped in time and returned to a town on The Gothic Line, in the province of Lucca, where some of his relations still lived and assisted the Allied troops as much as he could.  Ginevra had been heartbroken, but when Gian returned, the relationship had cooled.  His mother heavily depended on him, as she had been widowed five years into her marriage.  She was assisted in the business by a very capable young woman called Jean Waddell and she stole Gian’s heart on his return, but not in a malicious, predatory way. Ginevra accepted that the flaming jet had reduced to the gas being at a peep, as they say in these parts, but she was fond of Jean herself and bore her no personal grudge.  They were able to remain friends.

Gianbattista and Jean, 1946.

At this point Tiger turned to a black and white photo labelled 1946- Jean and Gian’s wedding photo.  Ginevra was in the guest line-up, looking brave and chic with a Forties costume and crimped hair and lots of lipstick.

But, wait a minute, Gran, that’s Mum’s grandma, surely.  I’ve seen this photo before, up in Scotland, at Grandma Morag’s house in Pollokshields. 

Well, yes, dear.  Grandma Morag married Gian’s son- Luca Junior.

I’m confused.

As well you might be.  Luca Junior was born in 1948 and he married Grandma Morag in Milngavie in 1970.  They had your mother in 1972.

What are these letters, gran?

Ah, these are my love letters from Gian.  I kept them all these years, but no, you can’t see them- not even for your project.

What about these other ones ?

Oh, from Jean? We corresponded for many years, until she went into the home.

And so you met Grandpa Brewer- Mead afterwards?

Yes, on the rebound, as folk say.  He had a job in the liquor trade and came north to do business with a distillery and we met in The Silver Slipper Café, just outside The Botanic Gardens, where I was working.  Great Western Road, it was.

Did you love him as much, gran?

No two loves are ever the same, dear.  We got along just fine and he was amusing and charming.  When I was buying an ice cream at the counter, he stuck a chocolate flake in my cone.  We called it a ‘99’ in those days.  We went for a walk in the glasshouses  and things got rather steamy afterwards.

Gran!  Tiger did not want to know those details.

So when did you get married?

In January, 1955. Rufus was working in Leeds, with Tetley’s by then and so we moved to Roundhay and your Aunt Victoria was born late in 1955.  Your father came along in 1960.

What was your name before you were married?  Tiger was noting some of the dates down, to draw out a family tree.

Piccololiverna- Ginevra.  It means Juniper berry, I think.  My father thought Ginevra de’ Benci was the most beautiful of Leonardo’s portraits.

Tiger thought for a moment and then blurted out:

But isn’t gin made of juniper berries?

I believe so, dear.  Get me a glass, will you?

But how did Mum meet Dad, then?  Isn’t it all a little bit- what’s the word?-incestu-something?

Oh, you’ll have to ask your mother that.

Ginevra was getting tired and Tiger had been told to restrict her inquisition to half an hour, as the old lady was ninety three, so the juvenile genealogist switched off her phone and asked Magda, the carer to pour her gran a drink.

But she has had two already! said Magda.

Ginevra pricked up her ears.  Third time lucky! she laughed.

Piccololiverna seemed a very apt surname for such a lady, thought Tiger.  But she didn’t say anything other than arrivederci!  And that was because Tiger was beginning to grow up.  She could hear her grandmother singing softly as she went into the hall to collect her schoolbag:

Arrivederci…

It’s time for us to part.

Save the wedding bells for my returning…

Please be sure the flame of love keeps burning.

Her favourite record by that man with the glass in his hand.  What was his name?  Dean Martin?  He liked a drink too, by all accounts.

Just give her more tonic.  She might not notice, suggested Tiger.

 

 

Keep Dancing!

Tags

Artem, Aurora Borealis, Brassica, Brassie, Carrie, Erin Boag, Ginevra, Magda, Ola Jordan, Pasha, Sonia, Strictly Come Dancing

Is that you, girlfriend?  I had just got through to Brassie, via my tablet.

Can’t hear you, Candia.  My voice keeps echoing and it is distracting, complained Brassica.  Wait a minute I’ll phone you.

Better?

Heaps.

English: Sparkler, violent reaction (guy fawkes) Français : Cierge magique pendant la nuit de Guy Fawkes, en Angleterre. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Okay, Brassie.  Have just heard that you and Cosmo are coming to Clammie’s Guy Fawkes party and that you have made up.

Yes, it was all a misunderstanding.  Sonia got the wrong end of the stick.  Magda was simply helping him to shift boxes from Ginevra’s cellar to the observatory under cover of darkness.  It was so that the twins and I wouldn’t see our Christmas presents.  He’d had them delivered to Ginevra’s as she is always at home and I rarely am chez moi.

But how did you find out the truth?

Oh, Carrie visited Ginevra to amuse her by having a laugh at my expense over the exploding sloe gin.  However, Ginevra didn’t find alcoholic waste entertaining at all.  She said that it had served me right for adulterating perfectly sound booze.

Brassie continued:  Carrie picked up on the word ‘adulterating’ and, given the carer’s recent lexical expansion, asked Magda if she knew what that word meant.  She was hoping to warn her off Cosmo.

She cleared her throat and went on: Magda understood the insinuation –she’d been receiving some helpful idiomatic lessons with Cosmo as a way of him thanking her for carrying all that stuff to the observatory.  Ginevra had given them some linguistic books and a CD that Ola had left behind and she had provided some Dewlaps as a learning incentive.  But, she chaperoned them at all times.

She laughed: Sonia had jumped to the wrong conclusion after seeing them together.  So much for her Sibylline pronouncements!

Yes, she’ll be asking the butcher for some entrails next, to practise her divination.

Well, she sure needs some practice, but not on our business and family life.  Magda was furious at being accused and spat out that she had a boyfriend with an Audi and that Cosmo was a damp squib!

Where had she heard that from?

She overheard Carrie telling Gyles one evening when they had called in to see Ginevra.  They had no idea that she understood metaphor.

Cosmo is obviously a good teacher, I opined. But why was Carrie discussing what you told us in confidence?

Oh, she said it was because she had been so concerned about me.

Hmm. .So, all is forgiven?   

Yes, and I’m not-like- pregnant.

Good.  Well, don’t let Magda hear you using that dreadful filler.  It would be so-like-bad for her English.

Aurora Borealis observed in Norway on 2006-10-28. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Brassie laughed.  No, the only colourful affair Cosmo is having is with Aurora Borealis.  You can see it so far south just now.  That’s why he has been spending so much time out in the observatory.

I wonder what is in all those parcels?  I mused.

Better be something good, said Brassie.  By the way, what are you taking to the party?

Some iced biscuits shaped like comets and stars from Costamuchamoulah, I replied.

I’m taking some Nigella puff candy.  Is your husband coming?

No, he won’t move from the wood burner, especially if ‘It Takes Two’ is on.  Now that Ola Jordan has been eliminated, he has transferred his allegiance to Erin Boag.

Man, thy name is fickle. Oh, the twins like Denise van Outen.  Maybe I should record it.  I must say, I think Pasha is kinda cute, especially as a werewolf.

I like Artem, but I wish he had not disfigured his body with that dreadful tattoo.  His upper torso looks a bit like a leather chesterfield.

Can’t say I noticed the tattoo.  Hey!  I’ve just had an idea. Why don’t we have a Strictly finals party? I’ll host it.  Surely your husband would come to that?

Yes, he’d probably come out for that- but not in that way!  I added quickly.  I could hire him a matador outfit.  I could be the cape.

More like the rampant cow, she countered.

(And that is why we are friends: because we can take a put-down from each other.)

I think I should be a judge.

Keep Dancing!

 

 

Trick or Treat?

Tags

Carrie, Ferdy, Frankenweenie, Ghostbuster, Ginevra, Grandma, hallowe'en, Magda, Mars Bar, Paradise Lost, Tiger-Lily, Trick or Treat, Zombie

It was Hallowe’en and Carrie’s children were hyper-excited.  Tiger-Lily was in

charge of her siblings.  She had dressed as a witch and her brother, Ferdy, was

carrying a plastic trident and sported horns.  Ming had a black plastic cape and

his smile was rather disconcerting as he had managed to retain plastic fangs

from a Christmas cracker in his mouth, in spite of the additional dental

obstruction of a brace.  The whole effect was akin to Frankenweenie.  Bill was

a white-faced zombie with fake blood dripping down his jaw.  Edward’s face

was green and he had a screw sticking out of his neck.  Rollo was a Ghostbuster.

All carried pumpkin lanterns and empty, be-ribboned mini-trugs, for the reception of

donated goodies.

Now be polite, children, and only visit the houses on High Street.  Ring the doorbells

once only and say thank you if anyone gives you fruit.  You mustn’t accept money…

Edward looked disappointed. I’ll wait round the corner in The Peal O’ Bells with the

other mummies.  Stay together and when you’ve finished, knock on the window.

Let’s go to Grandma’s first, said Ferdy. She won’t be scared of us.

Yes, let’s get it over with, said Tiger.

They rang the doorbell and stepped back politely.

Suddenly a white-sheeted figure with two black holes for eyes opened

the door and shouted: Boo!

Little Edward was terrified.  He seized his sister’s hand and dropped his trug.

It’s only Grandma, silly, said Tiger, annoyed at the naughty nonagenarian.

Trick or treat, Grandma?

Ginevra pulled the sheet off and smoothed her hair.

We’re not having that American nonsense here, she lectured.  When your daddy

was small he had to do guising properly.  We’re a traditional family.  So, who’s

going to do the first turn?

Turn? quailed Rollo.

Yes.  A  recitation, dance or song.  You don’t get owt for nowt as they used to

say.

What’s a recitation?  asked Ming.

Come in.  I’ll show you, said Ginevra enthusiastically.  Ola! Have you put the

apples in the basin of water?

But Ola wasn’t there.  She had run off to Bric-a-Brac with Jean-Paul, the

widower from the twinning visit.  Ginevra had forgotten the new carer’s

name.

Sorry.  Magda, then.

They all trooped into the sitting room and Ginevra moved her case of Dewlap

Gin off the sofa, so that they could sit down.

She took a deep, somewhat juniper-scented breath and launched forth:

Of man’s first disobedience and the fruit

Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste

Brought Death into the world and all our woe…

Sing, Heavenly Muse!…

Two hours later Tiger had to shake Edward awake as her grandmother

uttered the final words:

..through Eden took their solitary way.

Ginevra bowed with a huge flourish and pronounced:

Paradise Lost: now that’s poetry!

She then proceeded to help herself to a bag of Mars bars which Magda

had been instructed to purchase for the children.

Now..

Grandma, we’ve got to go.  It’s past Edward’s bed-time, said Tiger-Lily firmly.

Oh, what a pity.  We didn’t get round to ducking for apples, said Ginevra,

disconsolately.

There’s always next year, replied Tiger, scarcely banishing a rather un-

grand-daughterly thought: If the old bag is still around.

Carrie was frantic:  Where have you been all this time?

Blame Grandma, said Tiger.  Give her any opportunity or a platform and you’ll

be there all night.

You should have taken the crucifix and the garlic, like I told you, said Carrie,

bundling them into the 4×4.  She’s always been a  monster.

Even to Daddy? asked an exhausted Ming.

Especially to Daddy.  Never mind.  We’ll have good fun at Clammie

and Tristram’s Guy Fawkes Party.

 

 

 

A Damp Squib?

Tags

Brassica, Brassie, Carrie, Casanova, Cosmo, Magda, Mary Tudor, Philip of Spain, Predictor, Sonia, Spain, Squib (explosive), Tarot

Once we had established that if there was a sprog, amazingly it would be Cosmo’s, we calmed Brassie’s fears that she might have twins again. The nuit de passion must have happened on the evening that she did not attend the choir rehearsal.

Lightning doesn’t strike in the same place twice, Carrie assured her.

But Cosmo isn’t so much a bolt of lightning as a bolt from the blue, or even a damp squib, protested Brassie.

Too much information, I commented.

Here, Brassie, eat some of this chocolate marshmallow slice for me, said Carrie.  You’ll be eating for two- or three now. Only joking!

Don’t, expostulated Brassie.  I haven’t even bought a ‘Predictor’ kit yet.

Sonia came in at this point and I quipped,

Well, here is a perambulant one entering the premises, even as we speak.

We were just talking about boa constrictors, said Carrie and we nearly choked.

Actually, confessed Brassie, we were just debating whether I was pregnant or not.

Not the ghost of a chance, said Sonia.  I can tell.

How? we all said simultaneously.

Because- brace yourself, Brassica- I have seen Cosmo visiting Magda for the last month, when you thought he was sleeping in the observatory.

But I thought he was a damp squib!

Be that as it may, your symptoms are just a phantom pregnancy- like Mary Tudor’s. It will disappear, and I dare say, so will Cosmo, just like Philip of Spain did.

Brassie was ashen.  But I don’t want him to disappear.  I don’t want him to visit Magda.  What has she got that I don’t?

Oysters from ‘Know Your Plaice’ in North Street.  They’re aphrodisiacs you know.  He simply wouldn’t have been able to resist, said Sonia authoritatively.

So all the time I thought he was looking at the stars…

..he was lying in a moral gutter.  Upsetting, I know, but Sonia will disenchant them. She took out a cigarette and then pocketed it again, having remembered that there was legislation against smoking inside.

How are you going to split them up?  we asked, in admiration.

At Clammie and Tristram’s Fireworks party.  I think we are all going to be invited. I will set up a tent in the garden and do some Tarot readings.  I will serve her the Fool.

I’m sure Clammie will agree, if we tell her about the plan, I agreed. It’s so appropriate. Casanova’s Russian mistress was into divination, so it’s very romantic.  The Lovers and Greater Secrets feature in the Major Arcana, don’t they?

Don’t get carried away, warned Sonia. It’s all about presenting querants with their choices.  I’ll give him something nasty about wands!

Thank you so much, said Brassie.  I won’t need to go to the chemist’s now. But I’m still going to treat myself to those drainpipe jeans.  I’m worth it.

Of course you are, we all soothed her.