Authors: Portia MacIntosh
I have only just made myself comfortable next to the pool, but I know that I’ll get my work done a lot easier if I type on my iPad instead of my phone. I drag myself to my feet and begin (what feels like) the long journey up to my room – then again, running up two flights of stairs will do me good, I can practically feel the bolognese making itself at home on my hips.
When I finally reach my room I am a little taken aback to see my uncle already in there.
‘Can I help you?’ I ask bluntly.
‘I was just…’ My uncle’s voice quickly changes from a hushed tone to an awkwardly loud one. ‘…making sure that spider hadn’t come back.’
‘What?’ I ask, but as I notice him looking over my shoulder I turn around and see my Auntie June standing behind me.
‘You’re with Mia,’ my auntie says, like I’m not even there. ‘Again.’
‘Spiders,’ my uncle laughs with a shrug of his shoulders.
‘You’re
that
scared of spiders?’ my auntie asks me in disbelief.
‘Oh, if there’s a creepy crawly around I feel like I can’t rest until I know someone has squashed it,’ I reply, making my uncle look even more uneasy.
‘Anyway, we’re heading out now. You will take proper care of the children, won’t you?’ my auntie asks again.
‘Yes, yes,’ I reply. ‘I thought I’d take a nap while they play in the sea. Sound good?’
My uncle laughs at my blatant attempt at humour but my auntie looks disturbed.
‘Mia, you don’t take your eyes off them,’ she says sternly.
‘I won’t,’ I reply sincerely.
‘Come on, Steve,’ my auntie instructs her husband before they leave my room together.
‘Unbelievable,’ I say to myself before grabbing my iPad and heading back downstairs.
I am only back in my seat by the pool for a few minutes before my sister wanders in with Josh and Max.
‘Now, be good for Mia,’ my sister instructs the children. ‘And you be good for the kids,’ she warns me.
I find it funny that no one trusts me with these children, and yet they will leave them with me anyway because it suits them.
‘Right, who fancies a cigarette?’ I ask Josh and Max the second my sister has closed the door behind her. The boys laugh, which says it all about my sense of humour. ‘But seriously, are you guys OK to amuse yourselves while I do some work?’
‘Can we go in the pool?’ Josh asks.
‘Can you both swim?’
The boys nod.
‘Are you sure?’ I ask. ‘Because your mum will like me even less if you die.’
Both Josh and Max simultaneously talk me through their swimming achievements to date.
‘OK then, but only if you stay in the shallow end. I’ll be sat right here so I’ll notice if you wander into the deep end,’ I warn them.
‘Can you get us our swimming trunks?’ Josh asks.
Not only do I not fancy rooting through other people’s things to find swimwear for the boys, but that sounds like it will take a long time and I’m worried today will be my last chance to get some proper work done.
‘You wear underwear, right?’
Josh and Max nod.
‘Well, you’re sorted. Go, have fun.’
The boys look at each other for a moment, unsure of whether or not I have the authority to let them go swimming in their underpants. They don’t think it over for too long before running towards the pool, screaming with delight before dive bombing into the beautiful blue water.
I only get to feel like the world’s coolest babysitter for a moment before I realise that it is proving almost impossible to concentrate on my work with Josh and Max screaming and splashing each other. I can’t exactly go and work in another room, not after the jokes I made about drowning them in the sea. Whether it’s the sea
or
a swimming pool, if I kill these kids my sister will almost certainly have another reason to blame me for ruining her wedding – and I can’t have that.
‘Hey guys, do you want to watch a movie?’ I ask.
‘We’ve seen all the kids’ movies they have here,’ Max calls back.
‘What about if I let you watch a grown-up movie?’
The boys both cheer with excitement as they climb out of the pool.
‘Come on, this way.’ I toss them each a towel and head for the play room.
‘Right, let’s see,’ I say to myself as I examine the top shelf of the cupboard where the DVDs are kept. They actually have quite a good selection – I’m a total film buff and even I’m impressed. I quickly run my finger past any movie that I was involved in writing or any others of a similar genre, I don’t want to fill their young, impressionable minds with any romantic junk. ‘Pulp Fiction,’ I squeak with delight. ‘Have you seen it?’
The boys shake their heads, it’s like they haven’t even heard of it.
‘What? You haven’t seen Pulp Fiction?’ I ask in disbelief, putting to the back of my mind the fact that the boys are ten years old. ‘It’s a masterpiece.’
Maybe it’s because I take my love of movies very seriously, maybe it’s because I’m a devout Quentin Tarantino fan or maybe it’s because I just want to go against my auntie’s wishes, but I decide that this is the movie the boys should watch.
‘Just don’t tell your parents, OK?’
They nod eagerly.
I pop the DVD in the machine and sit myself down on the sofa with Josh and Max. I’ll stick around for a few minutes, just to make sure they’re enjoying it, and then I’ll head back into the pool room and do my work.
As the opening scene in the diner plays out, Josh and Max’s eyes are glued to the big screen. Ah, that look of wonder, that mesmerised stare – I remember when I watched my first Tarantino movie, they’re going to love it.
“I love you, Pumpkin.”
“I love you, Honey Bunny.”
‘Well, I’m going to leave you guys to enjoy this,’ I say as I head for the door, but it falls on deaf ears.
I grab a couple of beanbags, one to hold the door to the games room open and one to do the same with the door to the pool, that way I’ll be able to hear them if they need me. As I put the second beanbag in place, I overhear the line: “Any of you fucking pricks move and I’ll execute every one of you motherfuckers! Got that?” For a moment it occurs to me that maybe this isn’t the best film to put on for a couple of kids whose parents have sheltered them from bad language and inappropriate behaviour their entire lives, but that’s exactly the reason they should see it. This movie is a work of art, everyone needs to see it… although probably not when they’re ten years old. Well, Josh and Max are clearly enjoying it and that leaves me to get on with some work. What’s the worst that can happen?
***
Perhaps it has something to do with the water – the way it reflects on the walls and the gentle sounds it makes as it laps against the sides of the pool when there aren’t any noisy children splashing around in it – or the fact that jetlag is still screwing with me a little, but it wasn’t long after I sat back down by the pool when I fell asleep. So much for getting some work done before the adults get back… oh my God, the kids!
I jump up from my seat and dash into the games room, only to find Josh and Max exactly as I left them, their eyes still glued to the screen as Samuel L. Jackson finishes delivering that epic speech from the final scene of the movie.
“And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you.”
The boys, who are not even aware I have re-entered the room, both blink at the screen, their facial expressions giving nothing away. I wonder if they have even spoken to one another during the film.
‘So, what do you think?’ I ask them as the credits roll.
‘That was
so
cool,’ Josh enthuses.
‘I didn’t want it to end,’ Max adds.
‘Well, there’s plenty more where that came from,’ I tell them, proud to have introduced them to a cinematic genius. ‘Just don’t tell your parents.’
‘When can we watch another?’ Josh asks excitedly. ‘Do you think you can make everyone go out again tomorrow? What are we watching next?’
‘Hold your horses,’ I chuckle. ‘I’ll do my best.’
Right on cue I hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs. I quickly remove Pulp Fiction from the DVD player and put it back on the shelf, just as Auntie June walks in.
‘Did everyone behave?’ she asks, not wasting a second on pleasantries.
‘Of course,’ I reply. ‘They’re little angels.’
‘I was talking to them,’ my auntie informs me.
I roll my eyes at my auntie as Tarantino’s two newest fans nod their heads.
I grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge and take a swig, safe in the knowledge I have passed myself off as a capable babysitter.
‘Wait a second,’ my auntie starts, puzzled. ‘Why are you two in your underpants?’
Caught off guard, I spray the big gulp of water I had taken out of my mouth. I cough and splutter for a moment (much to the amusement of Josh and Max) before trying to explain.
‘It’s not what it looks like,’ I start, but my auntie cuts me off.
‘What
does
it look like?’
I hesitate for a moment.
‘I don’t know, but the boys wanted to swim and I didn’t think you’d appreciate me going in your room to find shorts.’
My auntie looks at the boys for confirmation and they dutifully nod. I think my auntie is picking up on the fact that we are all behaving very shiftily, but that’s only because I let the boys watch a movie with an ‘eighteen’ rating, not because I held an impromptu orgy and decided my ten-year-old cousin and his mate could attend if they adhered to the dress code.
Auntie June sniffs her son suspiciously.
‘You two, go and shower,’ she instructs them, having obviously smelt the unmistakable whiff of chlorine on their skin, even though they’re dry because they’ve been watching the movie for the past few hours.
‘You’re welcome,’ I say victoriously. I may not have wanted to babysit today but I successfully kept the boys alive – something no one thought for a second that I could do, and yet they still left them with me. Never underestimate the lure of chips.
My auntie follows the boys back upstairs, eyeballing me cautiously as she leaves the room.
I don’t waste my time wondering why June hates me these days, she just does and I’m weirdly OK with it. You would think I’d be distraught by the fact that pretty much every member of my family doesn’t really like me but I’m OK with that too. I have a few theories going, most of which involve me being born to a sexy celebrity couple and ending up getting swapped in the hospital, but I made peace with them emotionally exiling me a long time ago.
I suppose I should go and do some work. As I head back to my poolside workstation I glance over the DVDs again, making a mental note that the boys should watch Reservoir Dogs next – as part of their film education, it’s called Media Studies, I promise.
Despite promising to keep working while I’m away, I didn’t get very much done today. I tried, but I was only on a roll for about ten minutes before Belle called me for dinner, and all group activities are not optional – unless they need a babysitter.
‘Bangers and mash,’ my sister informs me cheerily as I enter the dining room. I knew I was going to have trouble keeping up my diet while I was here but this is ridiculous. Still, my sister will take it personally if I don’t participate so I suppose I’ll eat the vegetables and push the rest around my plate to create the illusion that I am eating it.
‘Yummy,’ I reply enthusiastically – as you know, when it comes to sausage I am an expert at faking it.
Soon enough everyone is seated at the two tables, the grown-ups on the main table and everyone under sixteen at the kids’ table next to us. Even though not everyone is staying at the beach house, we seem to be spending a lot of time together and eating all our meals together – thanks to Bridezilla’s ridiculously strict scheduling.
This evening I am sitting between my grandma and a hard face… my Auntie June. I was expecting to be in a horrible position, with shit being flung at me from both sides, but they’re not giving me a hard time at all tonight. My gran has always had moments of indifference towards me, but my auntie is usually unrelenting. Not tonight though.
‘I hear you did a good job with the kids,’ my dad says to me from across the table. ‘Well done.’
This comment catches me off guard as I am eating a mouthful of peas, causing me to swallow the wrong way and cough a little.
‘Yeah.’ I sip my water. ‘Well, they’re good kids. I had fun.’
‘Maybe you do have maternal instincts,’ my mum says warmly.
I glance around the table and see that everyone is smiling at me.
‘Maybe,’ I reply, knowing full well that I am about as maternal as a shoe. Still, if people are going to be nicer to me for showcasing these “normal” feelings then I’m all for it. Whatever makes my stay here more tolerable.
‘You did do a good job,’ a voice that sounds exactly like my auntie’s says, but it can’t be her, can it?
I look to my right to see my Auntie June smiling at me. Yes, smiling at me, and it’s not forced or smug, it’s genuine.
‘You’ve clearly done some growing up, Mia,’ she adds.
Belle, visibly annoyed that I am getting more attention than her, attempts to put me back in my place.
‘Mia, why aren’t you eating your dinner?’ she asks angrily.
‘The vegetables are delicious,’ I lie.
‘Well, it’s your show business diet, isn’t it,’ my mum chimes in. ‘It’s a tough business. Things like that matter.’
My eyes widen. First my dad compliments me, then my auntie is nice to me and now my mum is defending me – and everyone is still smiling. I must be dreaming.
Perhaps now everyone is seeing me in a better light, this wedding might not be so bad – I might even have fun.
‘So you’re refusing to eat my sausages?’ my sister persists.
‘I don’t really eat pork,’ I reason. My sister looks angry but everyone else in the room seems fine with me until…
‘I don’t eat pork,’ a voice echoes my own. Everyone looks towards the end of the table, where the kids’ table is. Josh is grinning widely.
‘Excuse me?’ my auntie says to her son.
‘I don’t eat pork,’ he continues as he eats, much to Max’s amusement.
When I let Josh and Max watch Pulp Fiction I knew that they wouldn’t tell their parents on me, but there’s one thing I didn’t anticipate happening – something that is inevitable when you watch a Tarantino flick – they caught the quoting bug.