Short Story No.1
Bring and Share
by
Susan Dodd
Two weeks before
“You can bring anything you like.”
“Yes, I know I said I needed to know.....”
“Well yes but.....”
“All I’m trying to do is make sure we don’t have 300 sausage rolls and nothing else.......”
“No, I’m not suggesting there’s anything wrong with your sausage rolls Mavis”. I fight down last year’s memory of stodgy pastry and over spiced, rancid meat. “They were........” I frantically search my mind for an inoffensive description that still has an element of truth. “Very flavoursome!”
Have you ever tried to organise a Bring and Share Lunch? Don’t! Honestly it calls for more diplomacy than the United Nations. I suppose you’re thinking why am I doing it? I blame Greece. Why? Because I was lying on a sun drenched beach, assuming I had nothing more to worry about than protecting my skin with factor 50, when I was, in fact, exposing myself to a far greater danger. Missing the sub committee meeting of the Gardening Club resulted in my appointment as “Lunch Organiser”. Strangely the previous year’s organiser had, apparently, booked a holiday that coincided with this year’s lunch and the previous one had moved out of the village all together.
It’s a nice group normally, about 70 of us, I first got involved a couple of years ago when I retired and got an allotment. The idea of the lunch is to celebrate the end of the growing season. I gather it all started harmlessly enough some years ago with a glass of wine and a few nibbles and then grew into the Bring and Share Lunch. Coming at the end of September means we all have a bit more time with most things harvested and it is nice for the “allotmenteers” amongst the group to use some of their home grown produce. The downside is that everyone sees it as a good opportunity to use up the gluts. I remember last year only too well, the marrows had been late and plentiful, and really, stuffed marrow is an acquired taste. Meanwhile those who don’t grow fruit and veg. have a nasty habit of going for the simplest solution. Whilst sausage rolls are, normally, popular, you can have too much of a good thing (particularly if Mavis has had a hand in them!).
So as Organiser this year I suggested that everyone let me know in advance what they would be bringing so we could have more of a variety. Unfortunately there seems to be the feeling that I am being too “controlling”, an outsider getting too big for her boots. Oh no, I’m not new to the area, I’ve lived here for eight years now but unless you arrived shortly after William the Conqueror you’re still considered a newbie.
Anyway I mustn’t let Mavis throw me off track. She is known for being “difficult”
The Evening After
“Thank you Gwen, yes I thought it went really well too”
“Well it was unfortunate about Ellis and the stinging nettle wine.”
“No, I’d no idea it was that inflammable either!”
God I’m exhausted. Never again! Mind you it was nice to see everyone chatting and laughing together. Even Norman and Giles were speaking to each other and we never thought we would see that again after the incident known in the village as “Plumgate”. Old Mrs Davis looked so much better and I’m sure it did her good to be out and about again. I’m pleased that nice young couple Emma and Wayne turned up too; it proved we’re not just a lot of old fogies. Not too many leftovers either and the clearing up went well. Oh no, not the ‘phone again its like living in a telephone exchange!
“Joyce! Hello nice to hear from you.”
“Yes it did go well didn’t it?”
“Yes, a number of calls actually saying the same thing.”
“Well Mavis’ sausage rolls are rather strong but she does enjoy making them.”
“Next year? Me? Well somebody else might like to do it next year, wouldn’t they?”