Some Peculiarities of the Fairchild Family
– There goes Olivia with her dog again…
– Good heavens, what has she done to that poor animal now? Look, its tails not purple anymore, its pink! There, look at it wagging!
– Well, what can you do? The girls got her quirks! Still, shes kind and decent. How many like her do you see these days? When her gran was ill, Olivia practically lived at the hospital. All she did was flutter about, completely ignoring her own young life.
– Is that so? I only saw her yesterday, and there was some rather dashing young man dropping her off by the flats.
– Maybe he was a cabbie!
– Ha! Since when do cabbies kiss ladies hands when they drop them off?
– Really?
– Indeed! Im telling you, our Olivia will be getting married soon, mark my words.
– Well, good for her! Her nan will be thrilled. Raised such a smart, pretty, decent girl! If only it werent for her line of work, shed be the perfect package!
– Why? Whats wrong with Olivias job?
– Detective? What sort of job is that for a girl?
– You say that, but how many nowadays respect the law like her grandmother did? Detective suits Olivia down to the ground! There was even a feature about her in the local paper, and a TV programme sang her praises. So there!
– Im not saying anything! God bless her, as they say. And you could tell from a young age shed take the world by storm! Remember what she was like as a child?
– Of course! The spitting image of her gran! A real firebrand!
The woman they were gossiping about strolled past their bench, nodded politely, then suddenly dashed after her happily bounding dog with its tail pink as the dawn.
– Off she goes! Wheres she running off to now?
– To collect her sister! Catherines flying in today!
– How do you know?
– Olivia told me. Looktheres the taxi pulling up!
Out of the car stepped a tall, slender young woman who, saying nothing, walked toward the running Olivia, seized her in a hug, then whistled for the dog at their feet.
– Liv! What have you done to the poor animal this time?
– But isnt it lovely? Its Nanas favourite shade.
– Oh, Ive missed you, you odd thing.
Olivia hugged her sister again and laughed.
That Olivia Fairchild was a bit odd was well known around the neighbourhood. Her quirkiness appeared from golden childhood onwards. She was a sweet thing with skinny plaits tied off with big old fashioned ribbons, always neatly done by her grandmother. She greeted neighbours with a crooked, gap-toothed smileuntil Grandad sorted her teethand chirped a gentle, How are you?
But people soon stopped replying, even those with nothing but clean skeletons and quiet parrots that didnt gossip.
It was because Olivia unsettled people.
She was chattydangerously so.
Yet that wasnt the half of it. Children natter, so what? Who believes a child? The trouble was, Olivia had a knack. She pieced together things shed heard or seen, then innocently told exactly the right person about whatever theyd done.
Auntie Tina, while you were out, Uncle Sid went to see Mrs Evans in number seventeen. With flowers! They were big yellow oneslike the bunch he gave you. I asked for a sniff, but he said no, and took them to her instead. Whys she allowed the flowers and not me?
Tina, whod long tolerated Sids fibs about late nights at work, would blanch, check the neighbours werent eavesdropping, and hurry off, forgetting to greet Olivias gran.
Olivia, darling, why are you talking to Auntie Tina? She didnt ask you anything! Nan would snap, but never explain her annoyance.
This upset Olivia. She couldnt understand what shed done wrong. After all, shed said nothing bad, had she?
No one would bother explaining what not to say or who to say it to.
After such escapades, Nan would grab Olivias hand and hold it firmly, lips pursed in that special way, silent as a gravestone in Union Square, where Olivia liked to play on weekends.
The two were not so alike after allthe statue had pigeons, and much messier hair than her grandmother.
Grandad, whod adopted her, was the only one who explained things directly. Once, Olivia squinted at the bald statue and asked, Why hasnt he got any hair?
He worried too much! Grandad replied without missing a beat.
Stressed out? His job mustve been tough then?
Suppose so, said Grandad.
Was he a childrens dentist too? Olivia imagined the statue squashed into Grandads surgery, terrifying kids in the waiting room as it called, Next!
Grandad would burst out laughing, wiping tears away, while Olivia watched with the puzzled air of someone who sees no joke.
Olivia then turned and chided, You should behave! Only Budennys horse was allowed to carry on like that, you know! Modesty adorns us all! So act your age or youll embarrass me in front of everybody!
Grandad always bought her a secret ice cream on the way home as an apology for his giggling.
It was secret because Nan forbade sweets before lunch, but Grandad always let her have them. And this, at least, Olivia kept to herself.
If you tell Nan I gave you ice cream, shell never forgive me, Grandad warned.
Shed make a scene?
And how! You know your nanshe likes everything done her way.
But you dont do what youre told.
Im a man! And a man who obeys a woman, well, whats the world coming to?
So I can tell her about the ice cream, then? Olivia slyly suggested.
No! Doing what youre told is one thing. Winding women up is another.
Are you a coward, Grandad?
No, I just prefer a bit of peace over a big row.
Is that good?
Ill explain one day. For now, shall we buy Gran some flowers? So she doesn’t see your sticky face too soon.
Olivia approved wholeheartedlyshe adored Grandad.
Hed entered her life as a late Christmas present. Her gran had raised Olivia from birth, as her parentskeen archaeologists, forever on expeditionshanded her over and disappeared in search of yet more Scythian loot. Olivias precious cheeks, puffed out in bubbles, screamed so piercingly the neighbours gave away their terrier just for peace and quiet.
Gran got buckets of unsolicited advice about raising children, which she applied selectively. When Olivia reached a year old, Grandad came into their lives. Step-Grandad, Gran clarifiedthe more relatives a child has, the better! She kept up relations with Olivias blood grandad too, for the girls sake.
Olivias true affections lay with the step-grandad, who would have laid down his life for both of them.
She also knew, backwards, the tale of how fate threw her gran and Grandad Peter back together. After troubled times and many tears, Peters old smile had set Grans heart racing again, just as it had in school years. This time, nothing held him back. Soon, they were married, and Olivia had a full-blown family.
Her dad shrugged off the change. Fine by meso long as Mum helps with Olivia while were away. Assured all would continue as before, he and her mum went back to digging up the past.
Olivia grew up surrounded by care and certainty. She hardly went to nursery because of weak healthevery exposure brought fever, so Gran gave up trying. Bother nursery! As long as shes healthy! opined Grandad.
Instead, Olivia was socialised in her grans old village, where families passed cottages down generations. Here Olivia thrived with plenty of playmatesSophie from next door, the twins Michael and Greg, and lively little Zoe, who pirouetted everywhere and fancied herself the next Margot Fonteyn.
One summer, aged six, Olivia met Catherinea girl completely different: brash, cheeky, stubborn and always mucky.
Their first encounter was on a sunny day. Olivia sat lazily in the summerhouse, leafing through a new book Grandad had fetched from town, picking at fresh strawberries. Suddenly, a grubby hand snatched a berry, scaring her so much she screamed the house down. Nan, stirring jam in the kitchen, nearly dropped the entire pot.
Olivia, what on earth? she called, startling the neighbours cats off the fence.
Catherine, grinning under the table, was merrily nicking the strawberries, unashamed.
What are you yelling for? Dont you want to know why I came? she teased, seizing the bowl.
Its good! she declared, Hurry up, or youll miss out!
Olivia, still yelping, only stopped when she saw Nan checking from the kitchen, then slid under the table.
Here you go, Catherine offered the juiciest berry.
Your hands are filthy.
So what? Were at the cottageeveryones hands are dirty here.
Nan, seeing the girls together, relaxed. Cathy! No need for scares. Wheres your grandad?
Resting again. Hes a bit tired, as usual.
Judging by Nans look, Olivia sensed this was code she understood perfectly well.
Girlstheres sweets in the kitchen. Ill be off soon! And with an unusually generous wave (sweets before lunch!), Nan hurried out.
Only later did Olivia learn that Catherine was the only granddaughter of Nans old friend, Samuel Morton. Misfortune had left him raising Cathy alone after a tragic accident. Knowing Samuel was struggling, Nan arranged for them to rent the neighbouring cottage so the girls could grow up as sisters.
Why did she care so much about a child who wasnt her own blood? Simple: Cathy looked so much like little Olivia that Nans heart ached for the girl.
Grandad Peter just said, Do as you think best, love. Why is more family ever a bad thing? If Olivia gets a sister out of this, its wonderful!
Nan worried, Will I love them both the same?
You dont have to, replied Grandad. Just love as you can. The rest, time sorts out.
They never dwelled on it again. Samuel, with Nans help, spent his remaining days content, watching the girls thunder round the cottage garden. He passed away peacefully in Grandads old rocking chair, smiling as Cathy dashed over for a goodbye kissGrandad, Ollis just said Im her sister now! Brilliant, isnt it?
It took a little while for all the formalities, but Nan soon became Cathys guardian.
Now Olivia had a sisterdifferent in character, but bound by deep affection, forming a friendship so gentle Nan could only have dreamt of it.
Cathy was always truthful with Olivia, something she desperately needed. She taught Olivia the value of silence as well as speech, steering her deductive mind towards the right path.
Honestly, you ought to be a detective! Though my grandad wouldve disapprovedhe used to say it was a dogs life, only fit for the dogs.
Well, Ill be a detective then.
Whys that?
So theres at least one who isnt a grump! Olivia laughed then, never guessing how responsible her future would be.
People joked about her, made faces behind her back, wrote her off as odd. So what? Olivia had a goaland the support of people who loved her. With that behind you, how can you fail?
Especially when standing over you with arms folded and brows furrowed, nan is saying, Olivia, have you eaten today? No? Thats disgraceful! Catherine, dont you laugh; I bet youve not had a bite either! Right, lunch, both of you! Plates clean! Peterdo you need a royal invitation? Let the dog be and wash up! Poor things been through enough already. Why a pink tail? Because you said so! Did I really? Didnt notice myself… Now stop joking about, the soups getting cold! To the tablemarch!The family tumbled indoors, carried along by Nans marching orders, laughter echoing through the rooms with as many shades as the dogs tail. Olivia lingered at the door, glancing back at the soft, green square stretching behind the cottage. Her heart fluttered, as it always did when her world felt stitched tight with love and comfort and unpredictable, tender chaos.
At the table, Peter fiddled with his napkin, Cathy poked Olivia in the ribs, and Nan eyed the soup, daring anyone to leave even a spoonful. The dog curled up under Olivias feet, tail proudly displayeda living badge of family eccentricity.
Olivia caught her sisters eye, and they grinned at the same unspoken memory: the fierce promise theyd once made, sticky with strawberry juice and bravado, to stick together through everything. It echoed in the easy silence between them, the certainty that differences made them stronger, that everyone needed a bit of oddness to survive.
As the spoons clinked and soup was slurped, Nan launched into the old storiesof brave ancestors, lost recipes, suitcase mishaps, and the day Olivia brought the entire Sunday school back for lunch because, as she solemnly declared, No ones house smells as safe as ours.
Cathy laughed until she cried, and Grandad toasted them all with his water glass, saying, To our peculiaritiesmay they be many, and may they always bring us home.
Outside, the world spun on, brisk and sometimes unkind. Inside, the warmth held. And Olivia, detective and oddball, sister and granddaughter, knew this was what shed chase her whole lifenot mysteries, not medals, but moments stitched together by stories, stubborn love, and people who never expected her to be anything other than gloriously herself.
