India Knight by Comfort & Joy

Author:Comfort & Joy [Comfort & Joy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781905490738
Publisher: Fig Tree
Published: 2010-11-28T06:00:00+00:00

It’s extraordinary to me how quickly the food disappears. I think this every year, and yet it still takes me by surprise. All that work, all that effort – not that I resent any of it, but it’s a lot of man-hours – and whoosh, gone in five minutes. Well, not quite – we sit at the table for ages afterward, but the actual eating is terrifyingly swift, as though my friends and relatives were starving hyenas.

I notice that Hope has been taking photographs of the food, leaning over the plate of roast potatoes and zooming in on the Brussels sprouts. Now she stands up on her chair to get an aerial shot of what remains of the turkey.

‘Hope, what are you doing?’ I eventually ask.

‘I’m live-blogging lunch,’ Hope says.

‘I didn’t know you had a blog,’ says Tamsin.

‘It’s new. I started it a couple of weeks ago.’

‘What happens on it?’ I ask. ‘You should have let us all know. Is it a work thing?’

‘Can we get down until pudding please?’ asks Cassie. ‘Me and Maisy want to go and play upstairs.’

‘Take the babies,’ says Flo. ‘Boys, can you keep a vague eye on the babies?’

‘Suppose,’ says Jack. ‘But only for a bit and only if they don’t crap.’

‘Fair enough,’ says Flo. ‘Call me if you need to. And don’t let them eat small stuff.’

‘Yo, babies. Let’s go, nappy-asses,’ says Charlie.

‘I love blogs,’ I say. ‘I’ll bookmark it. So, what, is it a work thing? Some sort of branding exercise?’

‘No, it’s just for fun,’ says Hope. ‘It’s a sort of online diary in which I share my hopes and dreams. It’s got quite a few hits, actually. And comments. I’ve linked it to my Facebook page, you see, and to Twitter.’

‘Cool,’ I say. ‘What’s it called?’

‘More Than a Woman,’ says Hope. ‘Because that’s what I am. Like it says on my blog: “Woman. Entrepreneur. Tycoon. Maverick. Friend. Sister. Lover. Survivor”.’

‘Bee Gee,’ says Robert.

‘Ah. Right,’ I say, a bit feebly. ‘Um, survivor of what?’

‘Tummy ache?’ says Robert. ‘Horrid sniffly cold?’

‘Life,’ says Hope with simple dignity.

‘Explain it to me, darling,’ says Kate. ‘I don’t understand. You post photos of our turkey carcass onto a website?’

‘That’s what I’m about to do in a minute, yes.’

‘I see,’ says Kate. ‘How insane. Why?’

‘Why?’

‘Yes. What is the purpose?’

‘Well,’ says Hope. ‘I suppose it just gives my fans a little insight into my everyday life.’

‘Your fans?’ says Kate. ‘But darling, who are they? Have you become a pop star since I last saw you?’

‘Not really fans,’ says Hope. ‘I mean, my Facebook friends and my Twitter followers. Do you know about Facebook, Kate?’

‘I’m not a hundred and three,’ says Kate. ‘My grandsons showed me years ago, although if I remember correctly – IIRC in your parlance, Hope – that was MySpace. I can see why they like it: it looks rather jolly, if you’re a teenager. Tell me, Hope – what about you? What do you use it for, mostly?’

‘Kate got out of the naughty side of bed this morning,’ Flo says to me quietly.

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