Written by Gordon Aspey
20 Novembe 2020
Babs never uses bad language. So I was startled to hear her swearing as she opened her travel case. Her rare outburst are usually confined to ‘Sugar…or Shit’ if she’s feeling the need to be more expansive. I wondered if she’d caught some bad mouthing virus from the tomato lady in France.
‘That effing woman!! ‘She yelled. ‘Everything is effing ruined.’ ‘Blimey what a mess’ I agreed. The contents of her case were covered with homemade strawberry jam. Her new hat, clothes, everything… except the left shoe of the pair she bought in France. ‘This one is alright’ I said, there’s no jam on this one lifting it out with my middle finger. ‘Well I can’t hop around on one leg can I? I paid 220 Euros for those damned shoes the most expensive I have ever bought; I’m fed up.’
The washing machine was in nonstop operation for a whole week. The new hat was beyond recall and dumped into the dustbin jam and all. Despite all attempts to remove the jam , it kept seeping out of the stitching and soiling her right sock. The jam wasn’t confined to her shoe either. The sticky substance appeared on the television remote control and the bottle opener, which was annoying.
Babs rarely loses her temper but the shoe saga had a profound effect upon her. I heard her muttering words she would never use. The right shoe did look different and I didn’t think dumping it into the dishwasher was the right thing to do. I had sympathy for her predicament. But felt she was overdoing things and couldn’t keep blaming the tomato lady.
‘You should have wrapped the jam in a plastic bag, I said; anyway you can still wear the shoes.’
‘I can’t wear them like that, they look like something out of a charity shop.’ ‘Well why don’t you put the other shoe in the blasted dishwasher as well. You’re not going to get passers by tapping you on the shoulder ‘scuse me your shoes don’t match; people don’t give a dam. You are making a lot of fuss over nothing’.
‘Those shoes cost me 220 flipping Euros, I reckon that’s worth a lot of fuss.’
I have always enjoyed the taste of strawberries. I remember my early schooldays in Hertfordshire. I would wander among the foxgloves and bracken with a couple of mates on Berkhamstead common.. We picked wild strawberries and other goodies like crab apples, sloes and hazelnuts. It was a veritable larder to us schoolboys. (could be a block of council flats now). The strawberries were my favourite. The taste buds still tingle with pleasure when tucking into them.
I became more embroiled in the shoe saga when I discovered my strawberry jam in the dustbin. This special sugar free jam was necessary for me as a treatment for Diabetes2. So it was what you might call part of my life support system. The beginnings of a marital spat were brewing.
‘Babs did you chuck my strawberry jam into the bloody dustbin?’
‘I thought it was empty’.she said.
That jar was three quarters full and you bloody well know it.
‘Okay-okay I’ll buy you another one.’
‘I’d rather you didn’t. You should avoid strawberry jam it’s having a bad effect on you and it’s destroying your vocabulary. I hope you aren’t going to toss those strawberry yoghurts into the dustbin; it’s getting ridiculous.’ ‘Harrumph’.
We had a letter and generous cheque from the villa owners for looking after their property. Although we couldn’t understand the last paragraph. ’ It’s unfortunate about the digging but we know you meant well.
‘I don’t understand ‘said Babs ‘what does she mean?’ ‘Well they didn’t want us digging up their estate-I never felt comfortable doing it. We should have left well alone.’
‘I reckon it was the roundabout when you lost control of the cultivator, you said you would fix it but you didn’t.’
Kas phoned. ‘Hello Mum- I’ve discovered more about the beef tomato woman. She’s a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde; she has a stall in the local market. She has a reputation for the occasional outburst of colourful language. Believe it or not, she’s a devout churchgoer and on all sorts of do good committees .A bit eccentric but a kind hearted soul.’ ‘Well I never’ said Babs ‘that is a surprise. I have a nice pair of shoes.’ I’ll give them to her for Christmas.
Kas laughed. ’I wouldn’t do that Mum,you’ll set her off again’
‘With regard to her outburst with dad. I gather she had some arrangement with the Villa owner to take on that plot of land. The owners did grow some veg last year but it was a dead loss. The slugs and other pest decimated the plot, but they didn’t want to use pesticides.’
‘Hmm… I’m not surprised ‘I said butting in ,’I’ve never seen so many slugs. You couldn’t have a knap on that grassy slope, you’d wake up with half-a-leg missing. They are so voracious.’
‘About Christmas’ said Kas, would you like to join us? The Gite will be free and there is plenty of room in the main house for rest of family.
We were looking forward to spending Christmas in France.
Babs dumped the shoes in a charity bag and vowed never to mention shoes or strawberry jam ever again. That is the end of that… so we thought.