I personally consider housework to be a total waste of time, not to mention energy. To my way of thinking, a bit of mess and clutter makes a place more comfortable, but I had this feeling Caroline might be the sort of person that thinks tidiness is important.
I jumped up and flapped my hand at a cobweb hanging off the lampshade. Caroline wouldn’t approve of cobwebs! The two times we’d met her we’d been, like, gobsmacked. How did Dad get a girlfriend like that? Smart and sassy, dressed like she’d just stepped off the catwalk. Dad is the least smart person in the world. Left to himself he would shamble around in the same old baggy joggers and faded sweatshirt until they fell to pieces. And even then he probably wouldn’t notice! He is really not into fashion at all.
We were quite surprised when he poked his head round the sitting-room door to announce that he was going off to fetch Caroline and we saw that he was all dressed up.
“Dad!” I left off vacuuming and skipped sideways to get a better look. “You’re wearing proper trousers!”
Dad shuffled, obviously embarrassed.
“Don’t tease him,” said Cass. “He wants to look nice. He does look nice!”
“I didn’t even know you had that jacket,” said Em.
“Been in the cupboard for years,” muttered Dad. “Thought I’d better give it a go before the moths got at it.”
“Quite right too,” said Cass.
“So, um … how’s it going?” said Dad.
“All under control. Don’t worry! As soon as we’ve finished in here we’re going to start preparing dinner. Right, you two?”
“Right.” We nodded. A faint look of alarm had spread across Dad’s face.
“You mean, you haven’t actually cooked anything yet?”
“It’s only just gone five,” said Cass. “We’re aiming for seven o’clock. Yes? Yes! So off you go.” She gave Dad a little push. “We’ll see you back here at six thirty. Just stop panicking! We’ve got it all planned.”
“If you say so,” said Dad. He still didn’t sound too certain.
“I do say so! Will you please just go?”
“You’re making us nervous,” said Em.
“Sorry,” said Dad. “Sorry, sorry! I’ll get out of your hair.”
He disappeared and we heard the front door open and close. I giggled. “I think Dad’s the one that’s nervous!”
Cass said, “He is, bless him. Like a boy on his first date! Let’s go and make a start on the food.”
We’d already decided what we were going to do – steak and kidney pie followed by lemon possets. Mock steak and kidney, that is. Thanks to Cass, we had all become vegetarian ages ago. So instead of steak we used Quorn pieces, and instead of kidney we had brown mushrooms. Chestnut mushrooms, I think they are called. With mashed potatoes and gravy, and pastry on top, it is very yummy! Nobody would ever guess it didn’t have meat in it.
“Bags I do the potatoes!” I said.
“That’s not fair,” said Em. “You already got to do the vacuuming. It’s my turn to choose … I’ll do the potatoes, you do the onions.”
Ugh! Yuck. Onions make your eyes water.
“You do the garlic, then,” I said.
“No way! Whoever does the onions does the garlic as well. You can always roll out the pastry,” she added, “if you like.”
“Oh, all right,” I said.
She was being quite generous, cos we both enjoy rolling out pastry.
“Know what?” said Cass, setting down the frying pan. “I’m starting to have second thoughts … I’m wondering if we should have real meat, as it’s a guest.”
We both stared at her, shocked. I could hardly believe what I was hearing!
“You mean cook dead animal?” said Em.
Cass did look a bit ashamed. “Only because it’s so important to your dad,” she pleaded.
“We don’t do meat when Gran comes,” I said.
“Gran’s not his girlfriend.”
“Ladyfriend, actually,” said Em.
“Whatever.” Cass waved a hand. “It seems only polite.”
“But it’s a principle,” said Em. “You don’t break a principle just to be polite!”
“In any case,” I said, “we haven’t got any meat.” I giggled. “Unless we give her cat food!”
“I could always pop up the road and buy a tin of stewing steak.”
“I’m not going to eat stewing steak,” said Em.
“Nor ’m I,” I said, though I really only said it to support Em. I would never have admitted it to her, but every now and again, at school, I was almost tempted to let my friend Lottie feed me a bite of something meaty as a sort of dare, just to see what it tasted like. I mean, I wasn’t scared of it or anything. But it’s really important to Em. She is into animals in a big way.
“Maybe I should do two pies,” said Cass. “One for Caroline and one for the rest of us.”
“If you do that,” said Em, chucking her potato peeler across the draining board, “I refuse to help.”
Cass sighed. It’s rare for Em to throw a tantrum. She is not at all a rebellious sort of person. It’s just that she has these really strong feelings.
“Honestly,” I said, “nobody’s ever going to know it’s not real meat. We could pretend it’s chicken … chicken and mushroom!”
“I don’t think we can actually lie about it,” said Cass. “On the other hand we don’t actually have to say that it’s not meat.” She suddenly cheered up. “We’ll make the gravy nice and strong! That’ll help.”
“Yes, and we’ve got my lemon possets for after,” I said. “Everybody loves those!”
I’d made the possets myself. It is my special pudding that I do. Cream, sugar and lemon juice, all whisked up and poured into little separate dishes. I am quite proud of my lemon possets! They are what Cass calls gourmet, meaning, like, very refined. Not just some old rubbish out of a tin.
I reckoned the whole meal was going to be gourmet, what with the dining table being cleared of clutter and laid out all posh and proper with place mats and sparkly glasses, and the cutlery checked to make sure there weren’t any bits of old food mouldering on it, which is what sometimes happens when me and Cass do the washing-up.
Em says we are slapdash. When she washes up she is very slow and careful. I get quite impatient! I keep trying to snatch things from her so I can get on with wiping them. This leads to breakages. We break a lot of things in our house. It is one of the reasons we tend not to have any matching plates or glasses.
Dad isn’t so much slapdash as clumsy. He managed to shatter a glass the other day just breathing on it. Well, that is what he claimed.
“I didn’t go anywhere near it!” he had said.
Dad is pretty useless, really, at everything except teaching people history. He can’t even change a plug without nearly electrocuting himself. But he is a very intelligent person. Perhaps that was why Caroline had fallen for him. She must have realised from the word go that he was not very clever at the ordinary, everyday things of life, since the way they