Tea Time With Dorothy and Mabel

Tea Time with Dorothy and Mabel

Words 1035

“Would you like a nice cup of tea?” Dorothy asks. Without waiting for an answer she places a cup and saucer in front of the young man who has sat himself on the edge of the couch. He toys nervously with the paper serviette she has offered him.

“Yes please, that would be nice” he replies, glancing up at her and then quickly away.

“English tea” she says.

“With milk” adds Mabel.

“Or without” says Dorothy. “Lots of people drink it without milk and put a lemon in it.”

“Only in Russia” Mabel counters,

Dorothy and Mabel are two elderly women who live together in Vienna.

They are sitting in their living room together with a young man Mabel has met at a book presentation. Mabel is a writer and is always bringing home people whom she meets at the various events she attends. She says that writing is such a solitary occupation she has to set it off by being especially communicative when she actually gets to meet people. Mabel’s image of herself as the lonely author constantly withdrawn into her work is, as most of the images we have of ourselves, not entirely accurate. In fact she has loads of friends, not to mention her son whom she loves passionately and an assortment of nieces, nephews and cousins who often appear out of nowhere to sojourn in their guest room, sometimes for weeks on end. Dorothy has no objection to the company she brings home. It is actually she, as a retired teacher and non-Viennese, who is sometimes in need of a more lively social life. And Mabel provides it.

“It’s real English tea” Dorothy tells the young man proudly. “Bought at Harrods in London. Not the kind of stuff they try to pass you off with in an Austrian café.”

“Here they call it black tea or English breakfast tea” says Mabel.

“English! You can’t call that muck English!”” Dorothy exclaims. “Now, here you are” (she gives him a cup and saucer)  “You can decide whether you put in the milk first or the tea first.”

“That’s worth a discussion”  Mabel tells him. “Milk first, tea first. Sure to start an argument.”

In fact, she is the only person we know who would argue about this. Mabel can argue medicine with a doctor and airplane flying with a pilot.  Dorothy sometimes asks her why she seems to feel the urge to contradict everything. She says it’s what gives her energy. Well, who can argue with that?

“There’ve been books written on the subject” Mabel continues, probably as a warning to him not to mess with her on this topic.

“Well, I don’t really mind” says the polite young man who has by now made tiny holes in the serviette.

“I always put the milk in first” Mabel advises him.

“Ok.” The young man holds his cup ready.

There follows pouring of tea and tasting and praising.

“Your name,” Dorothy asks him “It’s a bit unusual, isn’t it? Hil. What kind of name is that?”

“Is it Gaelic?” Mabel breaks in. “I once lived in Ireland and they all had names like that. Eoin and Flann and Liam and suchlike.”

“Or Scottish?” Dorothy suggests.

“Don’t be daft!”  Mabel rejects this with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Scots have names like Alistair and Caelan. Nothing like Hil at all.”

“It’s short for Hilary” the young man tells them.

“Hilary?” says Dorothy, “but that’s a girl’s name.”

“Not always” Mabel informs her. Think of Sir Edmund Hilary.”

“But that was his surname.”

“So?”  Mabel rejoins. Lots of people use their surname for their first name if they prefer it.”

“I was a girl” says the young man, flushing slightly.

“What do you mean, you were a girl?” asks Dorothy, somewhat perturbed. She has noticed no traces of femininity in this young man.

“Ah, I understand” declares Mabel knowingly. “You*re transexual. Am I right?”

“Yes, that’s correct “ he affirms.

“Dorothy,“ Mabel pronounces, as if she has reached some final conclusion which she has to impart to an ignoramus.  “Hil is what they call a trans.”

“ Really?” Dorothy smiles at him, “And what does your mother say about that?”

The young man laughs. “Well, she was of course a bit confused at first, losing her daughter and getting a son in exchange. But she’s got used to it.”

“One can get used to anything”, Dorothy says with a sigh. Then, realizing that this might offend him “Please don’t take that the wrong way. I’ve got friends who are lbgt. I know that may sound a bit like “Some of my best friends are Jews ” I’m just thinking how it would be if my brother, for example, suddenly turned up as a woman.”

 She feels herself stammering a little. Somehow it’s not coming out quite right. Thankfully Mabel, with her impulse to correct everything, comes to her aid.

“lbgti”

“What?`”  

“It’s Lbgti” Mabel informs her. “It includes intersexual people now. People who cannot be clearly defined as male or female”

“But that’s not what you are?” Dorothy asks

“No, I’m just trans”

“And how old are you?” Mabel enquires

“47”

“47! No! I would never have thought you were 47. You look much younger. Doesn’t he, Dorothy?”

“Not a day over 35!” she agrees, relieved to be able to contribute something positive- and truthful.

“Thank you” smiles the young man, who is now leaning comfortably against the back of their couch.

  Apparently, despite his initial nervousness, he likes them, or he likes the tea and the cake that they feed him. Or he is too lazy to move. Whatever the reason, he stays much longer than they had anticipated, maybe a little longer than they would have liked because, despite their energy and curiosity, these two women are, after all, both well into their seventies and can find lengthy conversations with strangers quite tiring.

  “What a nice young man” Dorothy remarks later. “I wonder what he thought of us. Do you think we overwhelmed him?”

“I certainly hope so” says Mabel, winking at her. “That’s our USP, isn’t it?”

“Oh yes!”  laughs Dorothy, kissing her.