The Sister-In-Law(30)
‘We could make those meatballs?’ I suggested, on safe ground, eager to get back to where we were. ‘The Elizabeth David recipe?’
She was about to respond when Ella, who’d now finished posing by the pool, started wandering towards us, all golden tan and tight abs. ‘Hey girls,’ she said in that cutesy voice, waving at us madly like we were miles away.
‘We were just wondering what to cook for dinner this evening,’ Joy said, taking off her sunglasses, shielding her eyes with her hand and looking up at Ella.
‘I think the meatballs,’ I said, settling back down like it had already been decided. Me, Joy and the meatballs had history – we made them every year, they were a Taylor signature dish.
Ella had arrived at our sunloungers and now knelt at Joy’s feet. As the mother of her only grandchildren, an heir and two spares, I was sitting to her right hand on my sunbed throne. Surely I was allowed to be a little comfortable; even Ella’s nasty little leak about what I’d said hadn’t damaged mine and Joy’s bond.
I’d tried to be friends with this woman, who had criticised the Taylor website I’d worked on, who’d referred to my nursing career as bed-making, badmouthed me to my motherin-law and then threatened to tell everyone about what she called my ‘dirty little secret’. God, I hoped she was bluffing, but clearly she knew something or she wouldn’t have said it. I didn’t trust her, so how could we possibly be friends? Ever since her Louboutins hit the gravel and she gave me that first cutesy little wave with just her fingers, I knew she’d had it in for me. But why? I sat by the pool going over and over this, aware that those bikini bottoms were halfway up her bum and her husband couldn’t take his eyes off her.
‘Meat… balls?’ Ella was saying now in response to my suggestion, like I’d just suggested we go and kill a local dog for supper.
I nodded vaguely and turned to Joy. ‘We could make that lovely garlic sauce we made last year, in the South of France?’ I said, aware I was excluding Ella, but making it clear that this is what we do, what we’ve always done and she couldn’t just turn up and change things.
Joy was about to answer me when Ella butted in, ‘The thing is, as I said last night, I don’t eat meat.’
‘Oh, of course, you mentioned that.’ Joy nodded. ‘So, what can we make for you?’
‘Well, I was thinking… we could all eat vegan? It’s healthier for the kids too,’ she said accusingly, like I’d been feeding them chocolate bars all week.
‘The children eat a lot of veggies,’ I said, ‘but I like them to have a varied diet and iron is very important to growing kids.’
‘Yes, and there’s plenty of iron in leafy greens, you don’t need to give them dead cow,’ she said, at which point Violet, who’d been sitting nearby on her tablet announced that she had no intention of eating ‘dead cow’ ever again and wanted to be,’ a veganarian, just like Auntie Ella’.
‘That’s fine, but let’s start when we get back from the holidays,’ I said. I was sure Joy was finding all this tiresome, she just wanted to make dinner for everyone. If Ella wanted a bowl of bloody broccoli then so be it, but I wanted meatballs, and so did Joy, who usually didn’t trust anything she didn’t do herself, including veganism. ‘Ella, I respect your choices,’ I started, ‘but would you mind not talking too much about not eating meat in front of the kids?’
She pulled her head back on her neck with feigned surprise. ‘Why on earth…?’
‘Sorry, it’s just that it’s hard enough to get Violet to eat anything, and if she thinks meat’s bad for her, then—’
‘But, Clare… it IS.’
‘That’s your opinion… I…’
‘No, not just mine, it’s proven.’
‘Okay, well, if you’d just—’
‘And it isn’t just about diet, it’s about the environment. Cutting meat and dairy products from your diet could reduce your carbon footprint by over seventy per cent…’
‘I’m sure you’re right, but it’s a decision Dan and I will make together at some point, and later the kids themselves. It’s not something I want to scare my children with on holiday.’
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘Calm down, Clare.’
‘I am calm,’ I said, forcing my voice into calm mode. ‘And I get what you’re saying. In many ways, I agree, Ella, but I don’t want my children to stop drinking cow’s milk or eating meat – yet. If, when she’s older, Violet chooses not to eat meat or dairy, that’s her choice, but as a nine-year-old child, I still believe she needs the nutrients and the protein…’
‘Oh Clare, you’re so wrong…’she said, shaking her head.
‘Look, as their mum, I just want for you to you respect what I ASK,’ I said, far too sharply, and far too loudly, causing Joy to look up, and Jamie to stare over protectively, clearly concerned for his wife.
I was embarrassed, I shouldn’t have been so quick to snap, but I felt under pressure. It was supposed to be a holiday, but there were too many things to worry about, too many people to please, including my kids, one of whom was now battering the other with a plastic bucket over the head. My husband seemed oblivious to this attack because he was far too busy staring at Ella.