Grinny Read online

  Father in very good form about the Aunt Emma ‘get wet’ story, and made Mum laugh a lot when GAE had gone for her afternoon rest. We were still sitting around the lunch table. Mum said something about it showing what a good sense of humour GAE has, but Beth interrupted her and said, ‘Oh no! She was quite serious, she really meant it.’

  I saw Father look puzzled, then Mum said, ‘Beth, you don’t live to the age of seventy-something without knowing the existence of bathing costumes.’ But Beth said, ‘She meant it, she was quite embarrassed when Father told her to go.’

  So Father explained to Beth what was meant by a dry sense of humour and said GAE was being drily funny, which caused Beth to make the obvious joke about everyone being wet at the time, etc., etc., etc. The subject was dropped.

  Thinking about it later, I believe Beth was right – that GAE really was serious when she made her ‘joke’. But of course that’s impossible. Not that it matters one way or the other.

  Jan. 22

  Yet another ‘Emmanation’, as we now wittily describe strange remarks made about GAE. Mac’s mother called to ask where was Mac (he was with me, backwashing the pool filter). So Mum called us into the house and GAE came in and we had to introduce GAE to Mrs Rainier. Mum said, ‘Great Aunt Emma, let me introduce Mrs Rainier, our nicest neighbour,’ etc., etc., and Mrs Rainier said, ‘Oh, how interesting, you never told me you had a Great Aunt, Millie!’ and GAE said, ‘Oh, you remember me, Mrs Rainier, you remember me’ (which seems to be GAE’s formula when being introduced) and then Beth came in and said, ‘I don’t remember you, Aunt Emma, not properly. Only Grandma, I knew her, but Mum never told us about you!’

  There was an awkward pause, then Mum wiped her hand across her forehead and started talking about cakes and a failure she had had and would we all please eat the good bits. The cake was brought in. It looked OK but burnt. Beth was being the perfect TV kiddie and saying, ‘Oh how perfectly scrumptious,’ etc., etc. Then she said, ‘I love the smoky taste of the burn. All cakes should be smoked, shouldn’t they?’

  Mrs Rainier, sucking up to the brat, said, ‘I so agree, ha ha, cakes should be smoked, they really should, ha ha, like kippers!’

  At which GAE said, ‘Oh, Mrs Rainier, you must think me so rude!’ – and offered her a box of matches!

  Reading this over, I suppose it’s not so funny after all and I must stop using ‘and’ all the time to link sentences. But it was the way GAE said it – deadly serious. Perhaps she has got the famous dry sense of humour.

  Beth has a point. I wonder why we were never told about GAE by Grandma when she was alive, or by Mum? Perhaps we were told and I did not listen. Mrs Rainier seemed to know all about her once they’d got talking.

  Feb. 2

  Father has actually bought Tasaki lighting gear! As usual, is very chuffed with himself and prone to explain it to me as if I wasn’t the one that made him buy it in the first place. But suddenly caught himself doing this and very graciously said, ‘Well, it was your idea really, Tim, I tell you what, come to the undercroft tomorrow and be Lighting Technician. Mind you, you’ll have to carry it, I don’t see why I should have to hump it about, etc., etc.’

  I said, ‘But it only weighs fifteen pounds, that’s one of the selling points I was telling you about!’

  He said, ‘Then why moan about carrying it?’

  I fell into the trap and said, ‘I wasn’t moaning –’ and he chuckled and said, ‘That’s how women argue, you can’t beat it!’ and laughed some more.

  I quite agree with him, that’s women. Even Beth at the age of seven can do it. So can GAE. Told Father about GAE and Competitive Spirit: I had scored second goal and we won 4–2 so naturally I was highly chuffed and maybe went on a bit about how we had massacred the other side, etc., etc., and GAE started asking questions about why winning mattered so much. I said the whole point of a game was to establish a winner, it was like a sort of friendly war. That got us on to wars and all the obvious arguments – if they do this, then you have no alternative but to do that, etc., etc. She said that perhaps history would have come out much the same if all the great battles had been settled by the toss of a coin. I said, you mean you would just accept invasion, not fight back? She said yes. So I leaned forward and took her packet of ciggies and placed them on top of the grandfather clock where she could never reach them and sat down again and grinned at her.

  Instead of taking it as a joke, she exhibited the old aggro. She got really cross. ‘It’s only an invasion, Aunt Emma,’ I said, ‘only an invasion. Why fight it?’

  At that moment Mum came in and Aunt Emma said, ‘Tim is being rude and unkind,’ etc., etc. I said, ‘Oh! An appeal to the United Nations!’ Aunt Emma said, ‘I insist that you give me back those cigarettes!’ ‘Then it’s war?’ I replied. Anyhow, Mum gave her the ciggies and all was peace and light. Just as well because GAE was looking upset and I was feeling a bit stupid. Later I said sorry.

  Father said, ‘There you are. Never argue theories with a woman. They can’t see further than personalities and in any case, WAW.’

  I find I am writing very slangily. Various uses of ‘chuffed’ in this entry and lazy use of ‘and’. Memo: if you are going to write this much, even in a diary, you might as well write it right.

  Feb. 3

  Now Beth is at it, doing what Father and I agreed to call Weathercocking – i.e., you just disregard the facts and main lines of an argument, and come in from any point of the compass that suits you. If you were north one minute you can be south the next and still expect to win. All part of the WAW phenomenon.

  Beth has taken an aversion from (Memo – not to: you cannot avert yourself to something, only from) GAE. There was a slight scene last night about kissing GAE goodnight: Beth just smiled and waved instead of kissing. Mum said something, Beth kissed GAE and then left the room, giving me a Look as she passed. Later I asked what she had been pulling faces for and she said, ‘Ugh! I hate kissing her, kissing Aunt Emma makes me want to puke!’ etc., etc. I said, was it the feeling of her skin (which is a bit odd, I must admit – much too smooth and soft – but that’s old age for you, one cannot help getting pouchy). Beth said Poo, ugh, no it wasn’t that, it was because GAE does not smell!!! I sat back and prepared for some weathercocking, viz –

  ‘You say she does not smell?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right, it’s all wrong. Ugh, poo,’ etc., etc.

  ‘But she smokes all the time so she must smell.’

  ‘Oh yes, but that’s only her ciggies, that’s not what I mean.’

  ‘But French ciggies have a very strong smell.’

  ‘Oh yes, I quite like the smell of French ciggies. It’s her smell I can’t stand.’

  ‘But you just said she doesn’t smell.’

  ‘Yes, it’s disgusting, ugh, poo, that’s why I can’t stand kissing her goodnight, stupid!’

  ‘But you didn’t like that babysitter, Winnie What’s-her-name, because she did smell.’

  ‘Well, that’s not as bad as not smelling, how could it be?’ …

  Beat that for weathercocking. And Beth is only seven. By the time she is grown-up she will be fifty times as hopeless.

  Feb. 6

  Beth barmy, weather freezing, soccer latest, GAE disaster!

  This winter worst in several years, snow again yesterday, about an inch, and frost is apparently here forever. Even Father looking a bit bluefaced on way to and from pool.

  GAE Disaster! Poor old thing slipped on ice and fell down heavily when walking to bird feeder with bacon scraps. I was at school, did not see, but apparently lay there for a little time until Beth rushed out and started to get her up.

  Then for no reason whatsoever, Beth let her fall again and pelted indoors white-faced and shaking and would not say a word – not that there was much time for words, as GAE still lying there. So Mum went out and got her to her feet and indoors. GAE now has right wrist wrapped in bandages and sits in wing chair smoking French ciggies and trying to do the crossword, w
hich she is very bad at, particularly the obvious clues. Good at spotting anagrams, though.

  ‘Right wrist wrapped’ a tongue-twister? ‘Nicely white lightly wrapped wrist’ … ‘Lily’s right wrist wrapped lightly.’

  Beth has now gone into the opposite of her TV Sweetie act and refuses to say anything to anyone about anything – palely pudding-faced with eyes like peeholes in the snow. Tried to be nice to her this evening (mending her fountain pen) and carefully broached the subject of GAE – but Beth screamed, ‘Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!’ and ran to her room. Seemed quite all right later but noticed how cunningly she avoided kissing GAE goodnight. Beth went over to her, placed her hand on GAE’s wrist and exerted slight ‘accidental’ pressure (hoping GAE would say Ouch and thus Beth could make speedy exit). But GAE took no notice. said, ‘Goodnight, Bethy!’ and Beth had to kiss her after all. Beth looked very sick as she walked out and serve her right for being too clever and complicated about everything. Last time we had pale pudding-face act, long-term, was when Mac frightened her with fireworks, Nov. 5.

  Am deputy skipper for Saturday’s away match, not that it matters.

  Cannot think what Beth has against GAE. Also cannot be bothered to think about it. GAE a bit boring, this questions thing of hers goes on too much. She is always asking questions and some of the questions are so stupid or mock-stupid or whatever. I think she puts on a Dear Little Old Lady performance (1) to gain attention (although she is not a limelight hogger like, say, Aunt Lilian), (2) to prove she is still young and sprightly, (3) because her mind is getting a little perforated, like a gruyère cheese.

  She went on this evening about Sleep, of all things. How strange, she said, that we have to sleep each night. What is sleep? How did trees sleep? And oceans? And continents? As there are obvious answers to the first two questions, it was boring to have to listen to Father giving them. And as there are no real answers to the last two questions, I wish she hadn’t asked them because it got Mum and Father talking about balances of power, the decline of the West, the rise of the East and all the rest of it.

  Like the time there were two dogs at the end of our garden. One was Mrs Folger’s bitch and the dog (unknown) was trying to mount her. GAE immediately burst out with, ‘Oh! How strange! What is that dog trying to do to the other dog?’ at the top of her voice – this in front of all the family and Mac – and for that matter Beth, but she is a hardened rabbit and guinea-pig breeder. Anyhow, someone told her what the dogs were doing and you’d have thought she would have shut up and left it alone. But no, she had to go on and on asking more and more questions covering the whole animal kingdom and the human race as well. Perhaps she has some antiquated notion about Bringing Things Out Into The Open For The Sake Of The Children or perhaps she has rotten eyesight and wanted to cover up what she thought to be a gaffe. But it would have been far better if she had just shut up and smoked another ciggie.

  Feb. 8

  Beth being stupid and embarrassing again today with GAE. Asking GAE questions about Granny – were they very fond of each other when they were children, what games did they play, etc., etc., etc. GAE was trying to answer by turning the questions – ‘Oh, it was a long time ago, dear … What is your favourite game?’ But Beth very persistent. At last Mum must have overheard because she called us into kitchen and told us not to pester GAE. Mum said GAE might be very upset by even least mention of Granny, for sisters can be very close and when Granny died, who knows what the effect was on GAE, etc.

  So Beth did the right thing and went up to GAE saying (in her best TV-commercial way), ‘Oh, Aunt Emma, I’m sorry if I ask too many questions, I hope I didn’t upset you,’ etc., etc. GAE replying ‘No not at all, smile smile.’ Beth proceeded to overcook the whole thing by saying, ‘Oh, I am glad you are smiling, that proves you are not cross, I must call you my Grinny Granny!’

  This so sickening that I nearly brought up my lunch on the best carpet – Beth only needs a lisp to make herself quite unbearable (‘I mutht call you my Gwinny Gwanny’). But GAE (presumably I must now write of her as GG – joke about the Old Grey Mare coming up, Ho Ho) highly chuffed, grinning more than ever, and Beth liked the TV Kute Kid who gets the chocolate biscuit with the yummy-yummy-O-my-tummy marshmallow filling.

  If I say anything of this to Mac, he gets all gruff and gormless – he fancies Beth like mad although she is only seven, and wants to come the Big Brother act. If he actually had a kid sister he’d know different as I keep telling him but he only goes Strong and Silent.

  GAE got working on Mac today and said, ‘So you and Tim are friends? Really friends, you really are friends? Great friends?’ etc., etc. What can you do except look stupid and mumble. But she went on and on asking about friends – would a friend do this if such and such happened, how could you be sure if a Great Friend, etc., etc. ad nauseam. The Quaint Old Lady bit.

  We lost 3–1 to Millhouse, thanks almost entirely to Cutler’s useless centre-half play. I got six out of ten for English Comp. and (as usual) the comment TOO SLANGY. The bike’s dynamo is wonky.

  Altogether a grotty day.

  Feb. 9

  This is not easy to write. I know I send up Beth all the time and make jokes about WAW and so on and she is after all only a seven-year-old (but soon to be eight) – but she is nothing like such a fool as I like to make her out to be and if she is a liar, she is doing it very well – even crying with the lying. I don’t know what to make of it.

  She was sitting in her room and refusing to come down. Eventually Mum sent me up to tell Beth that dinner was nearly on the table and that she really must come down. I crashed into Beth’s room and said, ‘Oh, come on, Beth, it’s dinner time and I’ve had to come all the way upstairs,’ etc., etc. She just burst into tears and said she wasn’t coming down, she refused to come down, leave me alone and so on.

  She looked so awful that I didn’t start on her in the usual way but tried to be nice – what’s wrong, did something happen at school, aren’t you well. She said, ‘No, no, it’s her – Grinny! It’s Grinny!’ Anyhow, Mum was standing at the foot of the stairs yelling for us to come down so I pulled her (Beth) to her feet and said, ‘Will you tell me after?’ and she replied, ‘Yes, but only if you promise!’ Which means of course promise not to tell anyone else.

  She was quiet and white at dinner but I don’t think anyone took much notice as there were two men from the site, a stonemason and a photographer, having a meal with us and they and Father kept talking shop at the top of their voices all the time. Beth ate as much as usual. But as soon as the meal was over and we had cleared the dishes, she tugged at my arm and made me go back with her to her room.

  She said, ‘I’ve been longing to tell someone, but they’ll only laugh. Will you laugh?’ I said no. She said, ‘Do you think I am just a stupid little girl or don’t you? Because I’m not!’ She started crying again so I gave her the old hug and kiss treatment, which I don’t often do, so when I do do it it works all the better (do do it it is like a word puzzle). It worked now – she stopped crying, stared me straight in the face and said –

  ‘Grinny’s not real.’

  I said, ‘Oh!’ I was disappointed in her for being so childish, actually.

  She said, ‘Yes, I knew you would take it like that, you just think I’m stupid, but I am not. Grinny is not real, she’s not a real person at all!’

  It went on like this for a little while, then I said, ‘Tell me exactly and precisely what you are talking about and no messing about and above all do not cry!’

  She said, ‘You remember the day she fell down on the ice and hurt herself?’ I said yes. ‘Well, I was the first one there, I was there just about a second after she did it, she was still lying on the ground and I was there beside her. And I saw something you will never believe, never!’

  I said what was it and I would try to believe her.

  She said, ‘Something horrible, it was horrible! I saw her wrist actually broken and the bone sticking out!’

  I replied
, ‘That’s impossible. Do be reasonable, she was perfectly all right quite soon after. If you break your wrist it is very serious, it takes weeks or months to mend. Particularly if you are old. And it is very painful, agony, in fact. So you just couldn’t have seen it, Beth, you only thought you saw it because you have a good imagination.’

  Beth said, ‘I haven’t got a good imagination, Penny writes much better essays than I do and so does Sue. I saw it, I saw it, I saw it!’

  So I made her tell me just what it was she saw. She started off by repeating that I would never believe her and so on, but in the end it came down to this – I am choosing my words very carefully so as not to distort what she said –

  ‘She was lying on the ground in a heap. She was not groaning or moaning, just lying there and kicking her legs, trying to get up. I went close to her and got hold of her elbow so that I could help pull her up. She did not say anything to me, like “Help me” or “My wrist hurts” – she just tried to get up. When I seized her elbow, I saw her wrist. The hand was dangling. The wrist was so badly broken that the skin was all cut open in a gash and the bones were showing.’

  I told Beth I understood all this, but she seemed unwilling to go on. She looked at me and wailed, ‘Oh, it’s no good, you’ll never believe me!’ but I made her go on. She said:

  ‘The skin was gashed open but there was no blood. The bones stuck out but they were not made of real bone – they were made of shiny steel!’

  I have these words right. Beth did say what I have written. I am quite certain about asking her what sort of bones, what sort of steel and so on. Her answers were, that the steel was silvery shiny and that the bones looked smaller than proper bones – more like umbrella ribs. When I asked her what umbrella ribs look like, she answered (correctly) that they are made of channels of steel, not solid rods like knitting needles. She said that GAE’s bones were in ‘little collections’ of these steel ribs and that the skin had been torn by a few of the ribs breaking away from a main cluster and coming through the skin.