The Alternatives by Caoilinn Hughes

Author:Caoilinn Hughes [Hughes, Caoilinn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2024-04-16T00:00:00+00:00

SCENE THREE

Olwen hadn’t warned them to be gone by the time she returns, if she plans to return, so they are still there more than an hour later. It’s nearly 5 p.m. Nell is taking a cold shower. A meeting is underway on Rhona’s laptop, tethered to the 4G on her phone. She’s listening in through an earpod. Leo is strapped to her torso in an outward-facing carrier. He wields his two-handled mug as a trophy for successfully watering the herbs in a box on the kitchen sill.

RHONA: What next? Will we play Wiping Surfaces?

She squats down to get wipes from the bag and hands the pack to Leo, catching his dropped mug midair. Maeve appears with Olwen’s camping stove, which she found while snooping around in the barn. Leo waves a baby wipe at her, desperate to bring this new territory up to spec.

MAEVE: You’re moving up in the world, Leo. That looks comfy.

Rhona sits down, bringing the dining table within Leo’s disinfecting reach.

RHONA: (to her screen) Precisely, Densua. Take a look at the Bolivian example, where “Democracy in Practice” is advising all sorts of institutions: schools, workplaces. (Maeve pulls a face for having interrupted, but Rhona waves dismissively, listening to see if further elaboration is needed.) It’s fine. I’m back on mute.

MAEVE: (in a whisper) I can take him for a while.

RHONA: No, he’s about to get cranky. We’ll have to leave.

MAEVE: A nature walk’s a great cure for the cranks.

She reaches out for Leo, awaiting consent. Rhona casts an eye over the meeting, hovering her hands over the carrier buckles.

RHONA: If you’re sure . . . Just a short one. It’s . . . I’d put your coat on first. (Maeve does this.) He’s used to having milk with his afternoon snack, but I didn’t bring any. It’s fine, I mean, we’re not staying here, but we’re not driving home. He tends to fall asleep in the car, and he’s just settling into a nap. We’d planned to book a place in any case, this week, while the sea defenses are being built—

MAEVE: What milk does he have?

RHONA: My whole street is—

MAEVE: Dairy, nondairy?

RHONA: —a building site. He has pea plant protein-enriched milk.

MAEVE: Nondairy. (She goes to check the fridge while Rhona frees Leo.) I’d be surprised if Ol has no soya . . . Plenty on the beverage front, though. (She glances at Rhona, then closes the fridge and checks the cupboards.) No need to resort to white Russians just yet, Leo. She has oats. I’ll make oat milk.

She sets some sea salt and two bowls on the countertop, then fills one bowl with tap water and tips in oats to let them soak. She hums, rummaging through the cupboards, finding a hand blender. Olwen’s always been partial to a soup. She can’t find any honey or maple syrup, but there’s a two-kilogram box of Medjool dates.

We can sub. And these will go with the blue cheese I made for her birthday. If I remembered to pack it.

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