Storm in a teacup: memoirs of a tea lady. Chapter 11

 Chapter 11.

Mother loved to read books and would often ask me to take out books for her from the Wattlebird community library. In particular she loved local authors such as the brilliant Felicity Young, a writer of historical crime, although Mother insisted that Ms Young’s latest novel —The Insanity of Murder —was a thinly veiled account of her own life.

        ‘Does Ms Young murder people?’

        ‘Not quite, child, but I do think there are some people she’d like to murder.’

        Suddenly mother started writing book reviews. And it no time at all, she was writing reviews for The Australian, the New Yorker and Paris Review.  Again, mother was famous, but insisted on living the life of a recluse while I fed her books and cups of tea.

Storm in a teacup: memoirs of a tea lady. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

I was merciless in my attempts to get mother out of her bed, where she’d taken refuge since winning the Tour de France.

          ‘I’m too young to be a tea lady,’ I argued.

          ‘Ten is a grand age to start being a tea lady,’ mother mumbled from beneath the bed-covers pulled over her head.

          Not relishing the idea of becoming a fully-fledged tea lady, I did handstands and cartwheels and pulled funny faces to try and cheer her up.  But it was to avail.

So I tried threats. ‘I’ll call the police.’

‘What good will they do, child?’

‘Lock you up,’ I heard myself say, realising that this course of action was inappropriate and foolish. It became apparent that I had no option but to follow my destiny, and become a tea lady at the tender age of ten. The youngest in Australia and, perhaps the World.