Marrying Off Mother (11 page)

‘I don't like it,' said Margo, worriedly. ‘I don't like the way he hangs around Mother.'

‘Or the way she hangs around him,' said Leslie.

‘Nonsense. The man's a bloody bore. He's worse than the professor,' Larry said. ‘Anyway, he's going soon, thank God.'

‘Well, you mark my words, there's something fishy going on,' said Margo. ‘There's many a trick between cup and glass.' My sister liked proverbs, but invariably gave her own version of them which tended to be confusing.

‘I saw them walking on the hillside yesterday,' observed Leslie, ‘and he was plucking flowers for her.'

‘There you are, you see,' said Margo. ‘Giving flowers to women always means something.'

‘I gave a lot of flowers to a woman once and she wasn't a bit grateful,' Larry said.

‘Why wasn't she? I thought women liked flowers,' asked Leslie.

‘Not in the form of a wreath,' explained Larry. ‘As she was dead I suppose one cannot be too harsh in judgement. I'm sure if she'd been alive she would have put them in water.'

‘I do wish you'd take things seriously,' said Margo.

‘I take wreaths very seriously,' Larry said. ‘In America they hang them on doors at Christmas. I suppose to remind you how lucky you are not to be underneath them.'

To our astonishment, Spiro arrived before breakfast the following morning and Antoine, wearing his sombrero, cloak and blue suit, was whisked away, presumably into town. The mystery was explained to us by Mother when we sat down to breakfast.

‘Where's Antoine gone?' asked Larry, deftly trepanning a boiled egg. ‘I suppose it's too much to hope he's gone for good?'

‘No, dear,' said Mother placidly, ‘he wanted to do some shopping in town and, anyway, he thought it would save embarrassment if he was not here while I talked to you all.'

Talked to us? Talked to us about what?' asked Margo in alarm.

‘You know some time ago you children were suggesting I got married again,' Mother began, busily pouring out tea and orange juice. ‘Well, at the time I was very annoyed, because, as you know, I said I would never marry again as no man could measure up to your father.'

We sat as still as four pebbles.

‘I gave the matter considerable thought,' she continued, ‘and I decided that you, Larry, were right. I think you do need a father to exert discipline and to guide you. Just having me is not enough.'

We sat as though mesmerized. Mother sipped her tea and put down her cup.

There are not many choices on Corfu as you know, and I was really at my wits' end. I thought of the Belgian Consul, but he speaks only French and if he proposed I wouldn't understand him. I thought of Mr Kralefsky but he's
so
devoted to his mother and I doubt whether he'd want to get married. I thought of Colonel Velvit, but I think his interests lie in other directions than ladies. Well, I was almost giving up in despair when Antoine arrived.'

‘Mother!' exclaimed Margo in horror.

‘Now be quiet, dear, and let me go on. Well, from the word go we were attracted to each other. I don't suppose you all noticed.'

‘Oh, yes we did,' said Leslie, ‘bloody breakfast in bed, fawning all over the bastard.'

‘Leslie, dear, I will not have you use that word about your step-father, or one who I hope will become your step-father in due course.'

‘I don't believe it,' said Larry. ‘I've always said women were half-witted, but not as stupid as that. Marrying Antoine would get you the Nobel Prize for idiocy.'

‘Larry, dear, there's no need to be rude. Antoine has many fine qualities. And anyway, I'm the one who's going to marry him, not you.'

‘But you can't marry him, he's horrible,' Margo wailed, on the verge of tears.

‘Well, not at once,' said Mother. ‘He and I have talked it over. We both agree that too many people rush into marriage and then regret a hasty decision.'

‘You'd certainly regret this one,' said Larry.

‘Yes, well, as I say, we've talked it over and we've decided that what would be best is for us to live together in Athens for a while and get to know each other.'

‘Live with him in Athens? You mean
live in sin?'
asked Margo, horrified. ‘Mother, you can't. It would be bigamy.'

‘Well, it wouldn't be exactly sin,' Mother explained, ‘not if we're planning to get married.'

‘I must say that's the most novel excuse for sin I've ever heard,' said Larry.

‘Mother, you can't do this,' said Leslie. ‘The man's
awful
You might think of us for a change.'

‘Yes, Mother, think what people will say,' said Margo. ‘It'll be too embarrassing when people ask where you are to say you're living in sin in Athens with that — that — that —'

‘Bastard,' supplied Leslie.

‘And a boring one,' added Larry.

‘Now, look here,' Mother said. ‘If you go on like this you'll get me seriously annoyed. All you children could provide by way of a husband for me was a drunken old fool with a name as long as the alphabet. Now I have chosen Antoine and there's no more to be said. He has all the qualities I admire most in a man.'

‘You mean like tediousness, sloth, vanity?' asked Larry.

‘Greasy hair?' asked Margo.

‘A snore like bloody thunder?' asked Leslie.

I did not make my contribution for I felt Mother would not be swayed by my comment that anyone who called me ‘baby' deserved to be strangled at birth.

‘It will of course mean a changed way of life for all of us,' Mother explained, pouring herself another cup of tea. ‘Gerry as the youngest will come to live with me and Antoine so that he can benefit from Antoine's example. Leslie, you and Margo are quite old enough to stand on your own feet, so I suggest you both go back to England and find yourselves congenial jobs.'

‘Mother! You can't mean it!' Margo gasped.

‘There's no such thing as a congenial job,' said Leslie, aghast.

‘And what about me?' Larry asked. ‘What future have you and that barbaric fool planned out for me?'

‘Oh, that's the
good
thing,' Mother said, triumphantly. ‘Antoine's got a friend in Lithuania who owns a newspaper. Apparently it's got a circulation of several hundred. Antoine is sure he can get you a job as a — a — I think it's called a composer. Anyway, it's one of those people who put all those little bits of type together and then it makes a printed page.'

‘Me?' Larry exploded. ‘You want me to become a bloody
compositor?'

‘Language, dear,' said Mother, automatically. ‘I don't see what's wrong with that. As Antoine knew you wanted to be a writer he thought it would be the perfect job for you. After all, everyone has to start at the bottom.'

‘I'd like to start at his bottom and kick it straight up through his bloody skull,' said Leslie, infuriated. ‘What does he know about congenial jobs?'

‘Well, dear, something that appeals to you — something that suits your character,' Mother explained.

‘Like assassination,' Larry suggested, ‘and then he could practise on Antoine.'

‘I can see that none of you are in a mood to be sensible,' Mother said, with dignity. ‘So we'll stop discussing it. But my mind is made up and so you had all better get used to the idea. I shall be in the kitchen if you want to talk seriously. I am cooking Antoine a prawn curry for tonight. It's one of his favourite dishes.'

In silence, we all sat and watched her as she made her way, humming to herself, through the tangerine trees and into the house.

‘I simply don't believe it,' said Larry. ‘She must have gone dotty. I am sure she's gone dotty. Look at all those round-the-bend relatives we've got. It's in the family. We must resign ourselves to a life of strait-jackets and padded cells.'

‘She's
not
dotty,' Margo said. ‘I know when Mother's being dotty and when she's not. I can tell.'

‘Well, you above all people should be able to,' remarked Larry.

‘I think it's serious,' Leslie said. ‘If she wants to marry the man I suppose we can't stop her, although I think it's a bit selfish. But for her to suggest we go out and get
jobs,
I think that is
really
carrying things too far.'

‘I agree,' said Larry. ‘The disintegration of family life starts when the children begin to behave normally, and their mother abnormally. Still we always have Spiro's remedy to fall back on.'

‘You mean cement sandals?' asked Margo, wide-eyed.

‘Boots,' corrected Leslie.

‘But wouldn't we be accessories?' asked Margo. ‘I mean, after all, it is something like murder when you kill someone like that, isn't it? I mean, you couldn't just say that he stepped into the buckets by accident and then fell off the boat, could you? I mean, I don't think anyone would believe you. I mean, I think they might get suspicious. I mean, I don't think it's a very
safe
idea. And, anyway, I don't think Antoine if you asked him — and of course we couldn't — would really like the idea anyway. I think he wouldn't want to get us into trouble with the police and things. I mean, I think that he's basically nice, but it's just that he's horrible and he wants to marry Mother and spoil everything.'

‘Well, that's succinct,' Larry observed.

‘We'll have to do
something,'
Leslie said, worriedly, ‘or we'll have that damned man interfering with everything.'

‘Yes, our private lives will become public,' said Margo. ‘We'll be going around looking over our shoulders all the time.'

‘You can't look over both shoulders at once,' corrected Leslie, a stickler for realism.

‘You can if you're frightened enough,' Margo said. ‘At least, I can.'

‘We'll have another go at her at lunch,' Larry said. ‘Try and show her the error of her ways.'

‘D'you think a trip to the local lunatic asylum would do the trick?' Margo suggested. ‘That would show her the error of her ways.'

‘How?' Leslie enquired.

‘Well, it would show her what she's in danger of becoming if she doesn't give up this ridiculous idea of marriage to Antoine.'

‘Wouldn't work. Every time I pass that place all the inhabitants look as happy as sandboys,' Leslie said. ‘No, you'd probably have Mother and Antoine moving in with them. I mean, if they
have
to live in sin it's better they do it in Athens which is far away and not in a lunatic asylum on our very doorstep. It would look bad. People would talk.'

‘I shall think of something,' Larry said, and stalked off to his room.

‘Well, at any rate it will give you something to do with all that damned velvet you bought,' Leslie observed.

‘Do what with it?' Margo enquired.

‘You can make Mother her wedding dress out of it.'

‘Oh, you do make me sick,' exclaimed Margo, and went off in a huff.

At lunch the assault recommenced, but Mother remained placid but firm.

‘You realize you're ruining our lives?' asked Larry.

‘Well, I didn't complain when I was left a widow with four children to bring up, dear, did I?'

‘How could you complain? We enriched
your
life, and anyway if we hadn't enriched it and made you miserable instead, that would have been just
one
life ruined. What you're proposing now is the ruination of
four
lives,' said Larry.

‘Yes,' agreed Leslie, ‘I mean, if
we
did something like that you'd call us jolly selfish.'

‘Yes,' added Margo, ‘and it's not as if you
need
to get married. After ail, you've got us. Most women would be only too pleased to have four children like us.'

‘Well if you meet one I would be very glad if you would introduce me to her,' said Mother frigidly. ‘I'm going to have my siesta.'

At tea time we fared no better.

‘You realize what people will say when they see you've married a younger man?' Larry asked.

‘Antoine is exactly my age, dear.'

‘But he
looks
much younger. I don't know if you've peeped into the mirror recently, but you are showing distinct signs of decay. People will say you have married a young gigolo.'

‘Isn't that something you play?' asked Margo, mystified.

‘No, that's a piccolo,' Leslie explained. ‘A gigolo is a sort of dago who goes round making suggestions to women of a certain age.'

‘What sort of suggestions?' asked Margo.

‘Filthy suggestions,' Leslie said, comprehensively.

‘Has Antoine been making filthy suggestions to Mother? Oh, I think that's loathsome,' exclaimed Margo. ‘It's bad enough them living in sin without having filthy suggestions as well. Mother, really, I think it's too much. You're behaving like something out of
Lady Latterly's Brother.'

‘I do wish you children would all be quiet,' said Mother firmly. ‘Antoine has behaved like a perfect gentleman, otherwise I would not have contemplated marrying him. But I've decided to and that's final. Now I'm going to attend to the curry.'

She went off to the huge, subterranean kitchen, where Lugaretzia moaned like someone stretched on the rack.

‘There's nothing for it, we'll have to have it out with Antoine. We'll just have to tell him we don't accept him in the role of step-anything,' said Larry.

‘Yes, we're four to one,' Leslie pointed out.

‘Four to two,' said Margo, ‘there's Mother.'

‘Mother doesn't count,' said Leslie.

‘After all, we have a perfect right,' Larry explained. ‘We're doing it for
her
good,
her
happiness. We would never forgive ourselves if we didn't save her from her own stupidity.'