Gifts from the Other Side

A few weeks ago I went through dozens of boxes and threw out 40 years in pictures, notes, cards and assorted letters from suitors written with different degrees of passion and talent and fortunately no spelling mistakes. My husband threw the lot into the burning pile of autumn leaves stoked by the groundskeeper. My husband is not jealous. He is Belgian. It appropriately went up in smoke, a sort of latter day Bonfire of the Vanities.

Except for a couple of surprising things kept undisturbed for decades, till now.

Amongst the many letters of my late friend B I found a hand-written dessert recipe (only a true and tried friend can decipher her spindly calligraphy) which I duly transcribed. It got readers off to a marathon baking contest since known as The Clafoutis Challenge.

Many participated and were kind enough to send pictures of their efforts.* B. would have been ecstatic.She adored meeting international people and sharing knowledge gave her a sense of purpose.

The first time I saw her was at her huge house in Geneva. I was early spring and a mutual friend brought me there. He informed me that hers was the only house in Geneva where you could show up unannounced. I remember a large drawing room with very high ceilings, deep sofas in chocolate brown velvet, some Louis XV chairs in apple green silk and a couple of armchairs covered in white cotton canvas. She was finishing a large flower arrangement of vibornum and ivy with a couple of over ripe pink peonies. I had never seen a room so effortlessly chic. An aria was playing somewhere, the musical notes floating on to the garden through open doors.

She taught me a lot; fantasy was a part of everyday life. “When making sauce verte, if you run out of parsley any herb will do. Or use a piece of green fabric”. She would set her table with pieces in mercury glass, what she called “poor man’s silver”, before it became trendy, mixed them with hand-blown hurricane lamps and seashells, intertwined with flowers or twigs from her garden. “When friends appear toss a frozen dinner of “quenelles de brochet” the oven; decorate with hard boiled eggs. Everyone knows you can´t freeze eggs so they’ll think it’s homemade”.

Imagine going through life so utterly unprepared.

In the midst of throwing things out I found a little suede pouch with a silver bracelet inside. Where did it come from? Was it ever mine? Did I buy it as a gift? I try it on. It fits perfectly.

Towards the end I came across a man’s wallet, the kind banks give you when you keep a healthy balance. Inside are two one hundred dollar bills from 1985. It’s a grey pandemic day and money is raining from heaven. I can hear M. teasing me, “Here kid. When this is over go and buy yourself some decent underwear” and can’t help but smile.

*Pictures of The Clafoutis Challenge will soon be posted on Lifestyle