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Authors: Nina Stibbe

Love, Nina (19 page)

BOOK: Love, Nina
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See. Two worlds colliding. We had hot apple pie (lattice) and cream. Then Mary H and me came back here and Polly told us off for being noisy.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

 

Dear Vic,

Called in at 55 and MK told me to go away because they were going to Mr. Mackie's. I asked if I could go with them. They said OK.

Walking on Harley Street, late for the appointment with Mr. Mackie. MK mardy, in court shoes, me and Sam in plimmies.

MK: We're late—can't you two walk any faster?

Me: Yes, but can
you?

MK: I'm holding back for you two.

(
Sam and me speed up and overtake.
)

MK: That's running.

At Mr. Mackie's.

Mrs. Boyce (receptionist): Hullo, Sammy.

Sam: Hullo.

Mrs. B: Sorry, but his twelve o'clock has gone in before you—you're a bit late.

MK: Fair enough.

Mrs. B: And if his twelve thirty arrives on time I'm afraid he'll go in before you too. So it might be a bit of a wait. You might have to be patient. You might want to rebook.

MK: We'll see how it goes.

Mrs. B: Or you could rebook.

MK: We'll take our chances.

Thirty seconds later Mr. Mackie calls us in.

MK: (
to Mrs. B
) Our patience seems to have paid off.

Mrs. B: Indeed.

Mr. Mackie: How have you been, Sam?

Sam: What, me in general, or my conjunctiva?

Mr. Mackie: (
laughs
) You've a good memory.

Sam: The nanny's always saying it.

(
Mr. Mackie smiles and looks at me.
)

Sam: She's not the nanny anymore.

Mr. M: Well, it's nice that she still comes along.

Sam: She misses seeing you.

Mr. Mackie seemed pleased, but not as pleased as Sam.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

Hair cut.

New hairdresser Melinda. Her real name's Melissa but there was already a stylist called Melissa at the salon (real name Donna) and they can't have two Melissas for obvious reasons. Anyway, Melinda (Melissa) says a wedge would
not
suit, due to high maintenance, so I've had a scruffy bob, but shorter.

Melinda gave me some blow-dry tips (for our type of hair) which I'm going to pass on to you:

Dry the hair the exact opposite of the way you want it. So if you have a left side parting, blow-dry it to the right and so on.

Smooth: if you want it smooth/straight, blow-dry it upside down.

Wavy: if you want it wavy, blow-dry it straight, make it 100% dry. Do not touch or brush it till 10 mins after it's cooled down. Spray with water mist.

Get a decent hair dryer.

I'm going to get a decent hair dryer and a headhog brush. Mary-Kay's got a Krups, but I don't ever hear it going.

MK has a new boyfriend. He's quite scruffy but it might be deliberate. Slightly wonky face that looks good on a man (but not a woman). Nice nose. Navy trousers and brown shoes (combination preferred by writers). Nice in a careful way.

I can tell MK likes him. Not in a handholding way but she's cheerful and having herbal tea.

Me: You're having herbal tea.

MK: I know.

Me: How come?

MK: I'm in a good mood.

And she's got a new coat—tweedy black/white/gray. Big and big collar. She looks tiny inside the coat—wears it with the collar up and her hands in the pockets. Saw her in Inverness Street yesterday. I noticed the coat—it looked like it was moving along by itself.

AB has a new coat too. Neutral. Good fit. He likes coats.

MK had a hem coming down on a skirt. In a rush, she stuck it up with a piece of eye tape. The eye tape's not very sticky so the hem was down again (worse) before she'd left the house.

Me: The eye tape hasn't worked.

MK: (
annoyed
) Have we got any Sellotape?

Will: I've got Blu-Tack.

MK: Where's the stapler?

Me: You can't staple it. Wear a different skirt.

MK: I don't have a different skirt.

Me: You might snag your leg.

MK: I'll cope.

Me: Don't come running to us with a lacerated leg.

MK: I'll try not to.

She stapled it up (four staples) and it looked fine actually.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

Mary-Kay seems serious about the new bloke (in love with?). Anything could happen (holiday/marriage/new bathroom). She's had a sloping bob.

Neve is bothered about the new boyfriend (compared with how unbothered he seemed about the last serious one—Floppy). Probably because though Floppy was nice (and clever), this one is more MK's cup of tea.

Neve came over on Saturday. To take Sam and me for lunch, but mainly to talk about the new bloke.

Neve: (
at the door
) Where is he (
meaning the new bloke
)?

Me: Not here.

Neve: Good, I don't have to punch his fucking lights out.

In the café:

Neve: What does she see in him?

Me: I don't know.

Neve: Yeah, too fucking right, you don't know. (
To Sam
) Is he that fucking great?

Sam: Yeah, he's a nice guy.

Neve: Stibbe's got the measure of him—what shall I do, Stibbe?

Me: Probably nothing.

Neve: So that's it? This guy's in there—is that what you're saying?

Me: I think so.

Neve: Fuck. It's over, it's finished. I'm fucking finished.

Waitress: Are you ready to order?

Sam came back to RPT with me because of the dust at 55 (due to building work) and we watched a video. We had to pause after fifteen minutes while Sam rang Mary-Kay.

Sam: I'm just going to ring Mary-Kay.

Me: What for?

Sam: To see how the dust is. (
On phone to MK
) Hello, mother, how's the dust? (
To me
) She says it's settling.

Me: Tell her not to move around too much, then.

Sam: Stibbe says don't move around too much. (
To me
) She says she's keeping as still…as…the…the what? who? The, the virtuous…Queen of…the Sicily…

Me: The what?

Sam: She says…Hermione.

Me: Who?

Sam: From
The Winter Tale,
or something…(
handing me the phone
)

Me: (
on phone
) Very funny.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

College is marvelous. There's always something going on. Today Stella found out that a girl in our philosophy group was caught stealing in Superdrug. We were all keen to know what she'd stolen. Another girl from same course (the student from Luton) told us in confidence that the girl had slipped a bottle of Nizoral into a secret pocket in her waistband. Head & Shoulders not being tough enough for her stubborn dandruff and Nizoral being expensive due to being a “treatment” as opposed to a shampoo.

The student from Luton suggested we had a whip-round to get her a bottle (of Nizoral), seeing as she obviously really wanted it. The rest of us felt that she might not appreciate the gesture as it would signal that we all knew about the shoplifting (and the stubborn dandruff). I can't wait to see her now (the thief). She's gone right up in my estimation (the secret pocket).

Stella says she (Stella) uses Head & Shoulders and Timotei alternately. Apparently your hair and scalp get used to whatever you're using and get strong enough to fight the effects, hence you should switch and alternate.

Also, good news: Remember I had to pair up with that girl / boy “Zig” for the short slavery course? Well, I'm not with Zig anymore. I've had to go into a three with Stella and Henderson (fear of the marketplace). Reason being that Zig got “clipped by a lorry” in Deptford making a dash for it across a multilane junction.

Anyway Zig's had mild concussion. And though s/he's not in danger, s/he won't be able to do the short project in the small amount of time allotted…hence me tripling up with Stella and Henderson.

I'm thinking that Zig's probably a boy (crossing a complex road in a stupid place to get to Spud-u-like—would a girl do that?).

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

Went all the way to Thames Poly but didn't need to. Time-tabling error (mine). But it was worth it because one of my tutors (Peter Widdowson, my favorite) asked how everything was going.

PW: How's everything going?

Me: Great.

PW: Great.

Me: I don't know if you remember my essay on Mrs. Gaskell.

PW: Of course I do, it's indelibly printed on my mind.

Me: (
pleased
) Thanks.

Realized later that he'd meant “Of course I don't remember your essay.” And, to be fair, he must read a hundred essays per week, so that's fine. I really think Peter Widdowson is the BMITW, not in a “Want to marry him” kind of way. He's just great in an everyday kind of way and in a making literature bearable kind of way.

Back in NW1, Smarts dry cleaner on Parkway (the one at the top) had a rail of uncollected items for sale on the pavement outside the shop (a year's worth of forgotten stuff). The woman from the other dry cleaner's (bottom of Parkway, where MK goes) was looking through it.

Me: Do you have sales like this at your shop?

Woman: No, our stuff always gets collected…apart from one rug last year.

I mentioned this to MK and AB (the sale). I didn't mention the rug because I had a feeling the rug was ours. Anyway, we started grappling with the mystery of things being forgotten at one dry cleaner but never forgotten (apart from one rug) at another.

AB: Perhaps people don't make it up the hill to collect.

MK: Maybe the top one has a higher turnover.

Me: Maybe the bottom one is lying.

MK: Why lie?

AB: Maybe there
is
forgotten stuff at the bottom one but it's not identified as such.

Me: Maybe the bottom one just keeps the left stuff.

Will: Because it's nicer than stuff left at the top one.

MK: Can we move on?

As well as the two dry cleaners on Parkway, there's a laundrette that offers a dry cleaning service. And there's one on Camden Road. Plus another on Camden High St. In other words, a lot of people in the Camden Town area have their clothes dry-cleaned a lot. Unnecessarily in my opinion.

Me: Why don't you just hand-wash with Stergene?

MK: (
irritable
) The stuff I take is dry clean only.

Me: How do you know?

MK: (
more so
) I read the instructions.

Me: Labels say “dry clean only” to be extra,
extra
careful and so you don't return the item saying it's shrunk or ruined or whatever.

MK: Yes. The label and I want the same thing.

Love, Nina

PS Remember if you ring me always do the ring three times and hang up thing.

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

MK is an art lover and has a wide variety of pictures (some v. good, some rubbish). She's got a picture of an emu just standing there (side view) and one of a big vase of daisies (unrealistic yellow) on a green background, also a cricket match on a green background. In fact, quite a few of her art things have a green background. Not bluey-green, which would be more obviously MK, but bright plasticky green.

And that's just some of it. There are pictures in every room.

Bought a new camera. Better than old one, more features but I'm still in control. New one is equivalent of Olympus Trip, but half the price.

Had a cup of tea with S&W. Will had a Mars bar and cut it into lots of thin slices. It was nice like that, all cut up. Then we tore the wrapper into squares and did that thing where it looks like you've got a tooth missing.

Tried to take pictures with new camera. Will acted unnatural, Sam screwed his face up trying to smile, Mary-Kay pulled her sweater over her head, AB shielded himself with coffee filters. Took some pictures out of the window instead, including one of Claire Tomalin with a pen in her mouth stroking a cat (to put on Nunney's windscreen).

Homemade fizzy orange gave Will the hiccups. He tried the usual methods to stop them. They didn't stop. Sam got anxious—he'd read in the
Mirror
about someone who had hiccups for two years and tried to commit suicide because of it.

We all reassured Sam that it was normal to get hiccups and that they'd stop soon etc. The hiccups stopped while we were reassuring Sam (that Will would be fine) but no one noticed.

Love, Nina

*  *  *

Dear Vic,

They all went mad here for this tea loaf from the hippie shop on Inverness Street. And because I'm not 9–5, they were all putting in orders for it. And I'm supposed to get it.

Example conversation:

AB: Could you fetch me a loaf of that tea bread?

Me: I'd rather not commit.

AB: You're passing, aren't you?

Me: Yes, but what if you're not in when I've fetched it?

AB: You can leave it on the step.

Me: Won't that encourage pests?

AB: I'll be in all day, so don't worry.

Me: Why can't you fetch the tea bread, then?

AB: I'm on and off the phone all day.

That's how it's been for a while since MK discovered the loaf. I don't really like going into the hippie shop partly because it smells spicy/herby and also because the Bagwan Shree Rajneesh woman always looks at me as if she wants me to convert to the Bagwan, which I would never do.

Then today I went in for AB's and MK's loaf (Mary H away and didn't require any) and it's been superseded by a less good-looking cinnamon bread with currants.

BOOK: Love, Nina
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