MEAT FOR MAMMON

New Zealand Listener, Volume 10, Issue 239, 21 January 1944, Page 12

MEAT FOR MAMMON

(Written for "The Listener’ by |

PATSY

OU know me, Gladys," said Mrs. Spencerman with indulgent dismissal of her own folly. "I am not one to be interested in food." Truth would have denied the soft impeachment but Gladys wisely refrained. "But," went on Mrs. Spencerman firmly, "there are times when a woman needs a good sqyiare meal-a meat meal -and particularly in times of emotional stress." Gladys cluck-clucked sympathetically. Mrs. Spencerman, _ Socially adequate

even in moments like this, took from her purse the lace-edged handkerchief given her that very Christmas by Gladys, and blew vigorously. "Of course I knew Harold would be going away sometime, but it was all so unexpected." r¢ . Gladys cluck-clucked again. After all it was only Harold’s fourth final leave, and he could just as logically have been spared till the sixth or seventh. "And then to go like that just before New Year. It did seem hard; Gladys." Gladys nodded, she hoped sympathetically. Another cluck would have been unnecessarily repetitive. "Well, Harold went on Thursday. I didn’t somehow feel like eating much on Friday, so I just opened a tin of tongues I happened to have in the house, I thought I’d go on Saturday and stock up for the week-end. Well, I went on Saturday. And do you know, Gladys, not a single shop was open. Not even a dairy!" Mrs. Spencerman paused impressively. oe waited open-mouthed for the climax, "I had forgotten it was New Year’s Day."

Mrs. Spencerman, having extracted her tribute of ‘stunning silence, went on. "Picture me, Gladys, alone in that great empty echoing house with only 4 eggs and a small loaf of stale bread." Gladys pictured it. Fearing that the image might be too harrowing for one of Gladys’s tender susceptibilities, Mrs. Spencerman proceeded to tone it down a little. "Fortunately I had a whole pound of butter, but then I’d got it on Tuesday, and you can never tell with butter this hot weather. And I had a quarter of a pound of cheese. They say cheese is very nourishing. I must confess I have never found it so. er

al "Well, there was nothing to do but manage as best I could till Tuesday, when the butchers opened. Fortunately dairies opened‘on Monday and I was able to get some more bread (very stale) and some fruit. "I was up the road very early yesterday because I didn’t want to risk the butcher being sold out. I had spent quite a lot of the week-end working out what I wanted. I toyed with the idea of a small sirloin of beef with the bone in (Yorkshire pudding and baked potatoes and pumpkin) but then I decided it was hardly worth while for one. For a long time I couldn’t decide between rump steak and veal cutlets, but by Tuesday morning I had definitely made up my mind in favour of lamb chops. "Fortunately the butcher had some. I got three. I also bought a pound and a half of peas. Then I came home and dug a root of potatoes and made some mint sauce. I always like it to stand for a while, don’t you? It brings out the flavour. "I think I could have been forgiven for disposing of those chops at midday (continued on next page)

(continued from previous page) yesterday. But I was determined to have a@ proper dinner, and dinner never is dinner unless you have it at night. "Yesterday afternoon I settled down to write to Harold. And then I decided to make up a parcel. Well, by the time I'd finished it was nearly seven and I'd forgotten all about afternoon tea. So unlike me, because I’m never the same without my cup of~tea. However, I thought, I'll really enjoy those chops of mine now. And I got up to go and put them on. And just as I was crossing the front room-what do you think?" Gladys didn’t. "there was that awful Harris woman coming in the gate. She’d seen me through the window so it was too late to hide behind the chesterfield. "So I showed her in. She sat down and talked. She told me all about her son Alan who’s on final leave and I couldn’t even get a word in to tell her about Harold, Not that I tried because I decided it would prolong the conversation. If I left her to keep the ball rolling unaided I thought she couldn’t possibly go on for longer than an hour. "At half-past eight I excused myself to get my knitting. I was determined to waste no more time in mere listening, and took the opportunity to swallow a couple of biscuits. "At nine o’clock the woman actually said she really must go. She'd only called in for a few minutes to see how I was. Not that she’d bothered to ask. I stood up and said, ‘You must drop in some other time,’ kindly but firmly I thought, and we got as far as the French window. "And then she said oh yes, She’d forgotten to tell me about Alan’s fianceé. So she turned back into the room again and sat down. Not where she’d been sitting before — I'd purposely put her on that couch with the rail and I'd noticed her squirming the best part of the two hours, but unfortunately I’d underestimated the woman’s powers of endurance. "Anyway this time she selected a really comfortable chair and it was obvious she'd settled in for the rest of the evening. "So I determined to make the best of a bad job. So I said I'd just rip out and put the kettle on for a cup of tea. And she said, ‘Oh, don’t bother, just for me -lI’ve only just had dinner.’ So I pointed out quite curtly it was at least three thours ago and I wanted one if she didn’t. So she followed me meekly enough into the kitchen, By this time she was on to Alan’s fianceé’s sister. "Well, I enjoyed that cup of tea, and by the time I'd finished I felt quite strengthened and full of the urge to tell Mrs. Harris all about the girl Harold had almost married. "But it was not to be. We were just sitting cosily over the remains of supper when Mrs. Harris said, ‘Goodness me, surely it’s not a quarter to eleven!’ (it wasn’t. The clock was a quarter of an hour fast.) And rose to go. And actually went. "Well I must confess I didn’t feel as interested in my chops as I had done before I’d eaten four slices of bread and butter and two pieces of fruit cake. But I was still fairly interested. I didn’t bother with the peas and potatoes but I had chops and mint sauce and bread and butter." There was a small shriek from Gladys. She felt it was expected of her, "Sleep?" took up Mrs. Spencerman, long adept at translating Gladys’s inarticulate responses. "Of course I slept. I

slept very well. And I had the most thrilling dreams. I dreamt Harold was riding round on a tricycle (I suppose it’s the petrol shortage) reviewing troops, and wearing one of those peaked caps with laurel leaves round the edge. "Ts that the time? Five past four? No thanks Gladys, I really can’t stay for a cup of tea. I simply must catch the butcher before he closes. After all, it’s Harold’s only chance of becoming an Ait Vice-Marshal."