Page 46 of Thursdays at Orange Blossom House
‘Oh, are you sure?’ Cecilia says, eyes wide.
‘You’ve wiped that benchtop five times,’ Grace Maud says, amused because she knows exactly why Cecilia wiped it that many times, why she’s delaying her departure to the shops.
‘It was really dirty!’ Cecilia flaps the tea towel she’s holding, as if it contains the answers as to why there was so much alleged dirt.
‘It wasn’t.’ Grace Maud pulls out a chair from the kitchen table and gestures to the one opposite. ‘You’d better take a seat. He could be a while yet.’
‘Who?’ Eyes still wide.
Grace Maud has no idea why Cecilia’s playing this game when she knows that Grace Maud knows that she overheard the phone call earlier during which Luca said he was coming over to visit. He didn’t specify whom he was visiting but they all knew it would be Cecilia. Grace Maud is fond of her great-nephew but there’s no reason for him to visit her so regularly. This will be the second time this week. The first time Cecilia wasn’t here.
‘You should have called first and saved yourself a trip,’ Grace Maud had said to him then.
‘What do you mean?’ He’d bent his head towards her then brushed his hair out of his eyes. Handsome kid. Just like his grandfather. Grace Maud knew exactly what Cecilia saw in him.
‘She’s not here,’ Grace Maud had said with a laugh.
Luca had tried to hide his disappointment, bless him, but Grace Maud’s eyesight wasn’t yet so bad that she didn’t catch it.
So she wasn’t at all surprised when he called an hour or so ago saying he was thinking of coming to town, and would Grace Maud mind if he popped over? Of course she wouldn’t.
‘And I’m sure Cecilia will be happy to see you,’ she added because she knew she had an eavesdropper.
An eavesdropper who is now looking at her with faux innocence. Grace Maud smiles as she realises that Cecilia probably thinks she disapproves of their mutual interest, which she most certainly does not.
‘Luca,’ she says. ‘As you well know, Luca is about to arrive.’
‘It will be nice to see him again,’ Cecilia says, a little breathlessly.
‘I’m sure he’ll be thinking that of you. And I won’t be hanging around when he gets here.’
‘Are you going out?’ Cecilia looks almost hopeful.
‘No – I’ll be going to my bedroom. That way you two can pretend I’m not home.’
It’s only then that Cecilia looks nervous. ‘I don’t really know what to say to him. I haven’t talked to a lot of boys.’
‘Well, boys are humans too, so you can talk to him about human things. Work. Hobbies.’
Grace Maud tries to remember her courtship with Clark: it had consisted of a few dances in a local hall and some polite chitchat. Dances were such a good way to meet young men. She knew several women who’d met their husbands that way. But the dances don’t exist any more, not the way they used to, and going to a nightclub to dance in a circle with your friends just isn’t the same thing.
‘Let him do the work,’ Grace Maud continues. ‘And he will, if he likes you. It’s one way of finding out – if he doesn’t ask any questions about you, he’s not interested. It hurts, but at least you’ll know.’
Cecilia’s face falls.
‘That’s unlikely to happen,’ Grace Maud says. ‘But you mustn’t get so wrapped up in one boy you hardly know – and I say that with love for him, obviously. A pretty thing like you will have many suitors, if you want them.’
‘I’m not pretty!’ Cecilia says with such conviction that Grace Maud starts to laugh.
‘I’m afraid to tell you that you’re wrong,’ she says with equal force. ‘Why ever would you think you’re not?’
Cecilia screws up her mouth. ‘My mother’s always telling me to stand up straight and change my hair and put on lipstick so I look better. I had my hair in a ponytail the other day and she said I looked ugly and I had to take it out. She said men like long hair.’
‘I doubt she thinks you’re ugly. But I do think she’s saying things she was probably told herself. It can be very hard to let go of fixed ideas. As I’ve mentioned. If we don’t question them when we hear them the first time, before we know it they’ve taken hold and we’re stuck with them.’ Grace Maud smiles benevolently. ‘Your mother may not know any better. That doesn’t mean you can’t.’
There’s a knock at the back door and a called ‘hello’ followed by heavy footsteps.
‘Hi!’ Cecilia says, jumping up as Luca ducks to fit under the doorframe.
