Sugar Pot

No. It's not them. Better move away now. You don’t want to be standing there too long, peering through the netting of the window, and have that nosey old Mrs Chip just happen to come up. Mrs Chip. Dippy Chippy. That’s who she is. Peeping tom, she’ll call you. She’ll tell you how they won't come, the miserable old bat. Just because her own children and grandchildren have abandoned her. Who could like the misery guts of an old windbag? No, no, don’t call her that, you know better, God-fearing woman that you are. But you still don’t want her to see you peeping out. Best move away from the window. They will come. 

But when? Everything is getting cold. The tea. The scones that you’ve been up all morning making. Five-o-bloody-a- clock! Shouldn’t have bothered with the new recipe. It took three attempts to get it right! So much flour wasted! But Susannah did complain that your original recipe was too dry. The one that had been passed down for generations. That you used to make with Gran when you were but a little girl. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with it! You had been a good, obedient girl with manners. Not like Susannah and other kids these days. No, not Susannah. Suz. What she insists on everyone calling her since she started going to that new school. What was wrong with Susannah? Susannah. Such a lovely, sweet name. Suz! So rough sounding, so ugly and unfeminine! Well, she’ll always be your little Susannah.  

Tea… scones… sandwiches… cake. Afternoon tea, they call it these days. Like it’s a new thing. This was how it used to be back when you were a little girl. Going to Gran’s. She had always given you tea. Steaming hot.  And a scone. With fruity jam. And clotted cream. Mmmmmmmm. Not like one of these fancy teas these days, the ones that fill up your house with sickeningly sweet odours. As if you were drinking perfume. Fancy that! And all these weird flavours, and never with milk! Well, not in your house! 

Still not here. Well, may as well check everything is out while you wait. Not the milk yet, it’ll spoil at the rate they’re coming. All the jams; strawberry, blackcurrant and apricot… though who is it that prefers marmalade? What’s his name? Oh, you just can’t quite grasp it. Oh dear, you hope this isn’t the dementia they talk about at the day center! That old Mable had it, and she ended up in a home. Imagine! You in a home with all those old people shuffling about… nurses all up in your business… bossing you about… telling you what to do… like they’ve even seen life! Why, you would have been changing their nappies twenty, thirty years ago! You will not go into a home! Bored out of your mind… TV on a single channel because someone has lost the remote… playing bingo every odd night. Bingo! Oh, how you hate bingo! Oh! It’s Bobby! Little Bobby... who likes the marmalade! That’s it! You are not losing it! It's just age, things are not quite on top form with age. That’s normal. That’s not the dementia. You are not losing your marbles. Thank goodness! Well... little Bobby is going to have to have apricot jam and like it! 

Your own grown fledglings love their tea… and Lola’s other half likes coffee. Urgh! Coffee. You could never get used to the thing. Bitter. Acrid. Made your tongue want to shrink away and crawl out of your mouth. And even he can’t drink it straight! He needs sugar to sweeten it! Coffee, all a big show-off if someone asks you. Sugar! Oh, you have forgotten to take out the sugar. 

Oh, he’s going to ask for the brown sugar. White is so unhealthy, he will say. Well, you only have white, so he’s going to have to put up with white if he wants any at all! If he wants brown, he can bring his own. You would never complain if you were invited to someone else’s house as a guest. These days, no manners! 

You remember the sugar pot is in the dishwasher. You go to the kitchen. You haven’t used the sugar pot in a while, you can drink tea unsweetened, you are not a ninny. You pull open the dishwasher. A few fancy dishes… wine glasses… gravy boat. No sugar pot. Oh, it's not in here. You were so sure it was. You always wash the sugar pot in the dishwasher, because of all the detailing and the swooshing water washes it out so well. Maybe you washed it by hand the last time… if there wasn’t a full load… and the water bill is getting expensive, you have been cutting down on your use of the dishwasher. Then it's definitely by the drainer. You walk over to the sink. No, it's not. Ah, you silly ninny. You would have put it away once it had dried. You wouldn’t have left it there, for it to sprout and put down roots like a tree! Silly! It’s in the cupboard. You go and pull open the door to the cupboard and put your hand forward to take it out. It’s not in its usual place. You move the china around. Nope, nope, nope. It’s definitely not here. Have you lost it? Did someone steal it? Oh God, what else is gone? No wait, you daft ninny. They wouldn’t just break in to steal a sugar pot! Maybe you just misplaced it. You check all the other cupboards. No, it’s not in any of them. When did you last see it? When your fledglings and their own hatchlings were here last? Oh God, are the grandchildren light-fingered? No, no, no! Surely not! Keep away, bad thoughts! How could you think that! They’re sweet, innocent children. Well, mostly. Not sure about that Suz though. 

What’s that? Back to the dining room. Back to peering through the netting. Oh, they are finally here! Parking the car. Engine off. Doors opening. There she is… your Lola, and who is that strange man with her? You think he looks familiar. Possibly. Do you know him? Maybe one of her colleagues? Perhaps. Why has she brought him, though? This is a family engagement. Lola knows better. So, what is this? Oh, whatever. You’re sure Lola will fill you in. Ah, the grandkids are getting out. Belinda’s hair has grown longer… oh, little Bobby is getting so big now… and Suz, no Susannah is stuck to her phone as usual. You will make a point of this at tea. No phones at the table. 

They are coming up the driveway. Don’t seem too eager. Let them ring the bell. Don’t let them know how infuriated you are. Pretend you didn’t realise they were late. Look surprised, and act cheerful. Ah, there goes the bell! Time to open the door.  

“Sorry we’re late Mum... traffic was terrible-" 

“Late? Are you? Goodness, is that the time? It seems to have gotten away from me!” 

“Well, Mum, it’s good to see you.” 

“You too, Lola darling… mwah… oh, and my little sweeties, and Susannah, of course-”   

“Suz!” 

“Yes, yes, dear… and Lola, who is this I have the pleasure of meeting today?” 

“Who? Phil? It’s Phil, mum, you know Phil!” 

“Phil… okay, yes, nice to meet you.” It must be an old friend of hers you’ve forgotten about.  

“Mum? It’s Phil! Oh Mum, always with the jokes!” 

“Daddy was-” 

“Why are you calling him Daddy, sweetie?” You’re quite taken aback. Surely, this male friend isn’t more than a friend! You know that Lola and her other half – ah, his name has escaped you at this moment – can have a rocky relationship at times, but she should make a real go of the marriage. At least for the sake of the children.  

“But I’ve always called him Daddy… I don’t understand-” 

“Grandma is just joking, honey.” Lola assures little Bobby. You know she’s trying to pull the wool over his eyes. Well, she won’t pull any over yours! There’s a Phil? What happened to Lola’s other half? You make a mental note of pulling Lola aside and having a quiet but stern word while washing up. The kids need their father! She can’t be bringing in strange men into their lives! What a bad influence that would be on them! The older one’s already ruined; you don’t want the younger two following in her footsteps!  

“I’m just going to get the milk out of the fridge, you all go sit at the table.” 

As you round the corner, you catch the strange man’s loud whisper.  

“Babe, I don’t think she’s joking… I’m getting seriously worried.” 

“She’s fine… she’s just getting old… that’s all.” 

“I’m not so sure…” 

This one is no good. You definitely need to have a talk with her. He’s not only a bad influence on the two grandchildren. No, he has bigger fish to fry! He is manipulating her! He wants your house! He wants you out and put you in a home! Well, over your dead body will you be letting that happen!  

The moment you get the chance, you will pull her aside and tell her everything. Even if she isn’t going to like it, you know she needs to hear it. She needs to get that man out of her house. She needs to get herself and the children away from him. If she doesn’t listen, you will tell her you will write her out of the will. You will do whatever it takes to get her to listen. It’s for her own good, and the good of the two little ones.  

You go to the fridge to get the milk. Pull open the door. On the top shelf, nestled between the jars of pickled cabbage and cauliflower, is the sugar pot, still full of sugar, staring back at you.