Christmas Day — appendix four

On christmas day they went to his mothers. She had no idea what to expect, a month before he phoned his mother and sister asking about what presents they wanted. He described christmas to her thus; familial, polish neo-traditional, familial, glutinous, conversational, debate ridden, serious and funny, with a massive psychoid underbelly, warm, warm. He put the bag of presents on the back seat of the Porsche Cayenne, it was an electric deep blue colour. It was around midday when they drove off, little clouds that look like bits of cotton wool are passing overhead, the clouds are drifting, they are passing beneath at speed on a nearly empty road,on the long downward curve past a large town called B__ they ran down the middle lane at 120 miles an hour, as they crested the hill on the other side of the valley traffic appeared and she slowed down, then she asked him what they were like again. It was a sign of her nervousness that it was the third time she had asked him. He told her about his sister, older brother and mother. My brother won’t be there as he will be with his oh so bourgeois wife and children at her parents house. My sister’s divorced, her small children will be there. Have you ever taken anyone else home at christmas. No , I haven’t, he tells her reluctantly. Oh. She sighs. Slightly worried about meeting his mother. >> The road flows like a Lucretian fall of atoms, the slow drift towards the left, the curve to the right, the rising and falling of the road, giving meaning to the drive and transforming pleasure into desire. << His brother and his family were still there when they arrived. She found it surprising that people came out of the house as they got out of the car to greet them. He looked surprised and disconcerted. It was then that she realized they’d probably spent the morning speculating about who and what she was, and now they were scrutinizing her. Thank god for the Yamamoto dress she said to him as they walked up the drive, and thank god I didn’t listen to you. He laughed agreeing his face relaxing. It still makes you look a little like a nun. She gently kicked his ankle. His sister exchanged quizzical glances with her mother. She realized that christmas was merely an excuse for them to scrutinize her, and they were laughing and teasing him for his hesitancy and care. These people can never know who and what I am she thought. She found herself in the kitchen with his sister and her three year old, she picked the child up and placed her on the work surface and taking the knife from her (his mother watching this from the doorway) let me chop the carrots. She twirled the knife in her fingers, and sliced the carrots at high speed. Are you OK cutting the carrots in that dress, yes, I wore it because I was meeting you and his mother. Watch this, she said to the child tossed the carrot into the air and cutting it into four pieces. Caught them and juggled the pieces. I was quite nervous, He came in and put his arm round her. She nudged him with her left hip. Not as nervous as him I think. His sisters boyfriend asked what she did. I own part of a company, and work there two or three days a week, apart from that I’m negotiating some settlements for my leaving Tokyo and living here with him. Do you have family ? No, i used to. But not anymore. She juggled four spoons for the child who shouted more more. Perhaps they’ll speak to me again one day. […] In the garden before eating she (was) conscious of his sister looking out the window at them, talking to his mother. Presumably about them she correctly thought. If she could have heard the words she would have liked them; he seems to really like her, funny how she is relaxed when he is near her, and more intense when he’s not. It’s probably us, this must be intimidating. ( “This is the longest I have been without killing someone since I was a teenager.” She said to him as they walked around the garden before sitting down to eat.) […] At the table later she watched them talk, interact, relaxed. Arguing about the state of the local politic. What books they were reading. Relaxed. >>Juggle the child said, juggle. She did, with a knife, fork, spoon and the empty water glass. << There was so little she could say about herself to them, though they asked, only he could know anything, everything. Isn’t Park your family name ? Yes, almost, my fullname is Kim Park-Seo, Sam could call me Kim Park or Park-Seo, but now I think he calls me Park because he likes parks, and we sort of live in one… Later after eating turkey and the trimmings, christmas pudding etc, waving his brother and family off. His sister brought some tea and a lemon drizzle cake to the side tables. “lemon drizzle cake?” Park looked at the cake intelligently and dubiously. He opened his eyes and laughed, try a little cake, perhaps you’ll like it… I think you are trying to poison me. When do you back to work Sam ? His mother asked. Thursday, I have some long running cases to review. Tomorrow, she told them that she had a few reports to read, and then her bankers were coming round in the afternoon. Years later, perhaps at another christmas, in a dozen years or so, after five years of psychotherapy park told his sister something of her violent past whilst her children ripped open presents…