A Roast on Sunday (5 page)

“
Mum,” Maggie sighed, straining the boiled potatoes and adding a generous amount of butter and milk. “Why do you have to keep going to the cave? What’s wrong with going out to a restaurant and having a nice meal together? Or inviting the girls around here and drinking yourselves drunk in the safety and warmth of your own home?” She bashed away at the spuds with the ancient stainless steel masher that had belonged to her own grandmother. The thing was bent out of shape from years of use but still served its purpose.

Her mother shook her head dismissively.
“You could never understand,” she said. ‘It’s just something we do. We’ve always done it.” She turned the element off on the stove and started piling the brown and crispy chops onto a platter.

“Just
because you’ve always done it doesn’t mean it makes any sense. You guys aren’t getting any younger. I worry about you.”

“Get the salad out of the fridge please,” her mother said
, changing the subject in a way that clearly meant the conversation was finished.

Maggie did so. Then she walked over to the lounge where her father was sprawled out on the couch while Baywatch repeats played on the TV. His eyes were closed and he was snoring gently.
He looked peaceful. She picked up the remote and pushed the button to turn the TV off.

“Hey I was watching that,” her father protested, wiping away some dribble that had collected in the corner of his mouth.

“With your eyes closed?”

“A moment
s rest.”

“Dad, you’ve seen those shows a hundred times.” Her father loved Baywatch so much and
was so upset when the show finished that Dot had bought him every season’s box set on video. He had played them so many times the ribbons were wearing thin and the spools creaked every time he pressed play. It was only a matter of time before they started falling apart.

“Not my fault they only put crap on TV these days.
”

“Willow, dinner’s ready,”
Maggie called up the stairs on her way back to the kitchen. She heard her daughters feet hit the floor above and then thunder down the stairs, taking them two at a time. She bounced into the kitchen and put her arms briefly around her mother before dragging out her chair and sitting down.

“Lift it, don’t scrape it,” Ray said, as he said every night and which Willow took no notice of.

“You’re in a good mood,” Maggie appraised her daughter.

“That’s because summer is nearly here. And because I’m looking forward to the market tonight.”

“Did you finish your homework?”

“Yep.”

“All of it?”

“Yep.”

“
And how much of it did you do, and how much did Nick do?”

“
I’d say about fifty-fifty.”

“Willow, how will you
ever learn if Nick does all your work for you?”

“I don’t
need
to learn Math’s. That’s what calculators are for. And what am I ever going to use science for when I’m a grown up? Do you use science in your everyday life?”

“
Can’t say that I do,” Ray commented, squeezing the sauce bottle upside down and covering his chops and potatoes with a generous amount.

“
Besides, you know I’m going to be a writer,” Willow went on, “so really English is the only subject worth paying any attention too.”

“She has a point,” Dot said.

“Will you two stay out of it please?”

“School never did me any
favours,” Ray ignored her.

“Shut up dad.”

“I’m just saying, it’s not the be all and end all of life. She’s a bright kid, she has other options.”

“Oh
crap, look at the time,” Maggie shoved the last forkful of salad in her mouth and pushed her chair back.

“Lift it, don’t scrape it,”
her father said.

“And don’t swear in front of Willow,” her mother
added.

“Give me ten minutes to shower and change and then whoever wants to come better be ready and waiting at the car.
Anyone who’s not will be left behind.”

Twelve minutes later
she emerged from the house, refreshed and in a clean long navy and white striped dress. She stopped short. None of her family were anywhere in sight. She threw up her hands.

“Oh for the love of -,” she
said but was cut off by giggling.

“Very funny you lot,” she called. “Now hurry up.”

Ray, Dot and Willow emerged from around the side of the house.

“Told you she’d
freak out,” Willow said satisfactorily.

“I did
not
freak out
,
but you all get in the car
now
before I do
.”

Chapter six

The decorators had done a wonderful job since Maggie had been gone and the centre of town now looked like something from a fairytale when the family arrived. They’d parked a few streets back and walked the rest of the way, each of them carrying a backpack or suitcase containing Maggie’s soaps. As they made their way they passed neighbours and friends, all heading the same way, and all greeted each other enthusiastically like long lost friends.

Colourful Chinese lanterns, lit from inside with tea light candles, were hanging from the oak and strings of fairy lights had been woven around its branches. As well as the Oak in the centre, large rhododendron trees framed the square. They had ju
st started to drop their flower and the ground was carpeted in a deep layer of pink and red flowers. Young girls were prancing amongst them and throwing the flowers over each other’s heads. The petals fell like confetti, and the girls giggled and pretended they were attending each other’s weddings. Alf Parker and Hemi Akurangi had both filled the back of their trucks with square hay bales and brought them into town, and now there was a nice seating area set up in front of the stage where a band had already started playing.

Energy and anticipation were thick in the air, and excitement jumped from person to person until before long the whole square was filled with tapping feet, humming throats and bobbing heads.
Wallets were fished out of back pockets where they had dwelt since the last market and were dusted off. Before long there were queues at all the food stands. There was quite an ethnic selection; Indian kebabs and curries, Maori Rewena bread, Paua and Whitebait fritters, Italian ciabatta sandwiches heavily loaded with sundried tomatoes and feta cheese and drizzled with extra virgin olive oil. The combined smell was simply heavenly, and it drifted on air currents, tickling noses and tiptoeing across taste buds.

Maggie made her way through the people to her stall.

“Hey,” Robert called. “Quite a few people have been looking for you already.”

“I hope I haven’t missed any sales,” Maggie worried.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be back,” Ray said, dumping his bag of soaps on the ground behind the stall and looking around for his friends. They were easy enough to spot as they were camped out on the same bench seat as earlier in the day, in the same positions even. If it wasn’t for their combed hair and clean shirts he would have thought the guys hadn’t even been home. No one else dared sit there; it was an unspoken town rule that the seat belonged to the old men. “I’ll see you lot later,” he said, kissing his wife on her cheek and ruffling Willow’s hair.

“Get off,”
she said, ducking out of reach.

Dot and Willow helped Maggie unpack the soaps and arrange them on the cake stands. With the three of them working hard it only took a matter of ten minutes. Once finished they stepped back and admired their handiwork. The
colourful soaps looked enticing, and in the early evening heat their oils started to release their smell and soon the air around the stand was hazy and filled with tantalizing aromas.

Immediately people started drifting towards the table, and for the next hour Maggie served people
, one after the other, listening to their needs and then matching them to the appropriate soap, while Dot handled the money and Willow bagged up the purchases.

“See,” her mother said to her at one point, “
Math’s can be useful in some situations.”

Willow rolled her eyes.

After an hour the steady line turned into a trickle and for the first time Maggie had a chance to look around.

“The place looks amazing,” she said proudly.

“Hmm,” Dot agreed.

Willow had been eyeing up the ice cream truck for the last hour, and she finally saw her chance.

“Darling mother who I love very much,” she said.

“
Ok what are you after and how much is going to cost me?”

“How do you know
I’m after something?”

“
Because you only act super sweet like this when you’re after something.”

“
It upsets me that you would think such a thing mother,” Willow pouted.

But Maggie knew her daughter better than that.
“Well?” she said. “I’m waiting.”

“Fine.
Can I have an ice cream?”

“What’s the magic word
?” her grandmother asked.

“Abracadabra.”

Dot threw back her head and roared with laughter.

“Don’t encourage her,” Maggie said to her mother.

“Encourage what? She’s sassy, it’s a good character trait to have.”

“
Well we all know where she gets it from, don’t we.”

“There’s nothing wrong with
a little bit of sass,” Dot shrugged. “Better to have a kid with some spark then a wet blanket like Lois’s granddaughter. Now
that
kid needs a personality transplant.”

“Mum,” Maggie frowned, “
don’t say things like that in front of Willow.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’ll go to school and repeat it, that’s why not. I got a phone call the other week from her principal complaining that Willow told the whole class that the teacher was an impotent fool. Now where do you think she heard that?”

Dot had the good grace to look guilty.

“Oh,” she said. “Right. Yes I may have said something along those lines. But in my defence I was talking to Ray, not Willow.”

“You see these things?” Maggie grabbed one of Willows ears in each hand and
gave them a wiggle. “They’re called ears. And they’re always listening.”

Dot regarded her granddaughter, who was
openly enjoying seeing her grandmother in trouble for once instead of her. “You did it on purpose didn’t you, knowing it would get back to your mother.” she guessed shrewdly.

Willow
shrugged. “Hey I’m just a kid. You’re the adult who really should know better.”

“Well played,” Dot
nodded admiringly, “well played indeed. Here,” she thrust a hand inside her shirt and rummaged around inside her bra, pulling out a ten dollar note. Dot didn’t believe in carting around a purse. If she couldn’t fit it in a pocket or in her bra then she didn’t need it. She passed the warm and slightly damp note over to a cringing Willow. “Get yourself an ice cream, and get me a chocolate cone too. You want one?” she asked this last question to Maggie.

“You know
what, it’s so warm tonight I think I will. A strawberry one please.”

While Willow was gone and the stall was having a quiet lull, Maggie took the opportunity to tidy up the soaps, putting ones that had been mixed up back in the right place and seeing which ones needed restocking.
She was almost all out of her Kowhai soap she noticed with surprise. The soap was made from the yellow flowers of the native tree, and was useful for when the bather was going through a crisis. It couldn’t give any answers, but it helped soothe and wash troubles and anxiety away, at least so a good night’s sleep could be had.

She was underneath the table, rummaging to find which bag she had more in when she heard a now familiar voice.

“Excuse me,” she heard Jack say to her mother. “But I was told I’d be able to find Maggie Tanner here?”

Maggie crawled as far under the table as she could, shaking her head
up at her mother and mouthing the word, “Noooooo,” as clearly as she could.

“
That depends,” Dot answered him.

“On what?”

“On who’s asking.”

Jack held out a hand.
“My name is Jack. I’m a friend of Maggie’s.”

Underneath the table Maggies’ mouth dropped open.
Friend? The man was more arrogant than she had first suspected.

“
Pleasure to meet you Jack, I’m Maggie’s mother, Dot,” said Dot, taking the hand and admiring his long fingers. “You know, I thought I knew all of Maggie’s friends, but I’ve never heard mention of you before.”

“
It’s a fairly,
recent,
friendship. Lovely to meet you too Dot. Wow, I can see where Maggie gets her good looks from.”

Dot
preened. He was smooth, she’d give him that. It made a welcome change from some of the farmers around here who barely knew how to talk to a woman, let alone woo one.

“
Seems to me Maggie might have mentioned someone as good looking as you,” she cooed flirtatiously, and then flinched and swore as her ankle was slapped hard from underneath the table. Jack heard the sound of the slap and smiled.

“
Maggie’s stepped away for a moment,” Dot told Jack. “But I can pass on a message if you like.”

“
Sure thanks, that’d be great. Can you let her know that I’ll get the bill for the damage to the truck tomorrow, but we can discuss that over dinner. I’ll pick her up around seven. Tell her to wear something sexy.”

That was it. Maggie went to stand up, outraged, but in her hurry she failed to back out far enough and smacked her head
on the underside of the table as she got up.

“Son of a bitch,” she swore, rubbing it.

“Don’t swear,” said Dot.

“
Maggie,” Jack said in fake surprise. “Excuse me,” he said, and leant forward over the table to peer down.

“What are you looking for?” Maggie ask
ed him irritably.

“Just
checking if there’s anyone else hiding down there.”

“I wasn’t
hiding
, for your information. I was getting more soap.”

He looked pointedly at her empty hands.

“You interrupted me.”

“Right.
I was just telling your mother that I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow. For dinner. Wear something nice.”

“I heard.
And obviously I wasn’t clear enough this afternoon when I said
not in a million years
. So let me see if I can spell it out a little clearer. I’m not interested. You are annoying, rude and arrogant, and I wouldn’t date you if you were the only man left alive.”

“
Phew,” Jack whistled through his teeth. “Say what you really think why don’t you. Don’t hold back out of any concern for my feelings.”

“Feelings?
I doubt you understand the meaning of the word. You insulted my parenting and my home today and that showed zero concern for
my
feelings.”

“That was a misunderstanding, and if you crawled out of your own butt for a second and looked at it from my point of view you would appreciate the fact that I was only
expressing my concern.”

“
See that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Rude. You just proved my point one hundred percent.”

He sighed
and held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m sorry, again. Look, how about we start afresh. Pretend today never happened, and get to know each other properly.”

“Like I said, I’m not interested. Besides, I think my husband might have something to say about it.”

She heard Dot start to say something beside her and kicked out, connecting with an ankle again.

“O
uch. Will you please stop doing that?”

Maggie ignored her and stared at Jack defiantly.
He held her gaze longer than was polite, his eyes roaming over her face. She could see something in his eyes that she hadn’t seen from a man in a long time, and it both thrilled and terrified her.

“My apologies,” he finally said. “I was led to believe you were single and available.”

“You were given the wrong information. I’m married.” She tucked her hand behind her so he wouldn’t see the lack of a ring.

“
My apologies again,” he said, but she could tell from the questioning tilt to his head that he knew she wasn’t telling him the entire story.

“Oh great, it’s you.” Willow was back with the ice creams. She
frowned at Jack. “What do you want?”

“Willow, don’t be rude,” Maggie said, despite the fact that the statement made her a hypocrite. She took the strawberry cone that Willow passed her. Her daughter had lingered and detoured on
her way back, and the ice cream had started to succumb to the heat that still shimmered in the air. Ribbons of melted ice cream were making their way down the sides of the cone and on to her hand. Without thinking she licked them off, and blushed when she saw Jack watching her.

“What are you still doing here?” she snapped, embarrassed that her body had reacted without her control.
“Go away, you’re blocking potential customers.”

He turned
and looked over his left shoulder, then his right. There was no one behind him. Making his point without a word, he turned back to her.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll leave you to it. Lovely to meet you Dot, and
as always a pleasure to see you, Willow.” And with one last smile flicked at Maggie he left. Her eyes followed him until she realised the other two were regarding her with interest.