Some Curious Peculiarities of the Krasavina Family

Some Peculiarities of the Bennett Family

– There goes Olivia, walking her dog again…

– Good heavens, whats she done to that poor creature this time? Look, look, Daisys tail isnt purple anymore, its bright pink now! See how shes waving it about?

– Well, what can you do if the girls a bit odd? At least shes kind-hearted and decent! You dont see many like her these days. When her gran was ill, Olivia was always at the hospital, fluttering around, never caring for her own youth.

– Im not so sure! Only yesterday I saw a rather handsome young chap dropping her off at the door.

– Couldve been a taxi driver!

– Taxi driver, my foot! Since when do taxi drivers kiss a young ladys hand?

– Did he really?

– He did! Im telling you, our Olivias soon to be wed.

– Well, thats splendid! Her gran will be so pleased. Shes raised such an intelligent, beautiful, and upstanding girl. If only it werent for her profession, shed be simply perfect.

– Whats wrong with Olivias job, then?

– A detective inspector? Whats that for a girl?

– Now, now! How many people these days respect the law like Olivias gran? And Olivia makes a grand detective, she does! She was even in the local paper, and there was a programme on the telly praising her. And you make such a fuss.

– I? I say nothing, may she have all the luck in the world! Its been clear since she was little that Olivia would not end up ordinary. Remember what she was like as a child?

– Oh, I do! A firecracker, just like her gran!

The object of the neighbours scrutiny, sitting on the bench by the house, passed by, giving them a polite nod, then suddenly dashed off, skipping merrily after her dog with the pastel pink, just-dawn tail, as it bounced across the sanded icy paths.

– There she goes! Now, wheres she off to?

– Off to meet her sister, of course! Catherines flying in today!

– And how do you know?

– Olivia told me herself. Look, the taxis here now!

A tall, slender young woman stepped from the arriving car and, without a word, strode towards a running Olivia, swept her up in a hug, and whistled for the curly-tailed dog weaving between their legs.

– Liv, what have you done to that dog again?

– Isnt it lovely? Grans favourite colour!

– Oh, how I missed you, my peculiar one!

Olivia embraced her sister once more, laughing aloud.

The whole neighbourhood knew Olivia Bennett was a little eccentric. Her oddities had surfaced from the very days of her golden childhoodsweet, slim-plaited, bows at the ends, carefully tied by her doting gran. Shed greet her neighbours with a slightly crooked smilethanks to her step-granddads dental handiworkand a gentle, How do you do?

People soon stopped answering, even those with the barest of skeletons in locked closets, or chatty parrots with all the family secrets on their eager beak-tips.

The truth wasthey were wary of Olivia.

For all her charm, she was terribly talkative.

Now, most might dismiss a childs babble, but with Olivia, there was an uncanny knack for piecing together the things shed heard or seen, and recounting themplain and clearto the very soul concerned.

Aunt Tanya, while you were at work, Uncle Stanley went to see Mrs Irene, from Flat 17. He brought her some flowers! The same yellow ones he gives you on your birthday, but the bunch was much, much bigger. I asked if I could smell them, but he said, No! And off he went to see Mrs Irene. Whys she allowed flowers and not me?

Tanya, who had tired of her husbands tall tales about overtime shifts and exhausting work, would flinch, checking anxiously that Olivias prattling hadnt been overheard, before hurrying away, forgetting to greet Olivias gran.

Darling, dont speak to Aunt Tanya unless she asks you. You werent invited to talk, gran would scold, but never explain why.

Olivia would sulk, quite sure shed done nothing wrong. Or had she? It troubled her mostnot understanding why she was told off, only the certainty that something was amiss.

Gran, after such events, would turn coldher silence monument-like, lips pressed tight and eyes telling Olivia thered be no supper sweets that night.

She hated it, of course, pouting until she remembered that, unlike the statue in the square (her favourite for Sunday walks), gran didnt have pigeons nesting on her head, so her hair always stayed neat as could be.

The story of the man upon the square, she’d learned from her step-granddad, whod always indulge his curious little charge.

Whys he bald? Olivia asked, squinting into sunlight.

Too many worries! hed answer, always forthrightunlike gran.

Stressed, you mean? Mustve been hard work, then?

Aye.

Was he a childrens dentist too? Olivia pictured the granite man squeezed into her granddads surgery.

Funny sight: the monument couldnt fit and had to bend three times over, while terrified children saw only that well-pecked dome pop through the door: Next!

Granddad would laugh until there were tears in his eyes.

If only! The worldd be a different place. He was a leader, Liv.

A leader? You mean with feathers in his hair? Like in that book we read! But hes just bald… and those pigeons keep haunting him. Do you think their feathers would suit his what dyou call it?

A headdress?

Thats it! A headdress!

No, Liv, for this you need eagle feathers.

Oh, poor eagles! Theyre too beautiful to bother! Gran says you should always mind your manners about… you know, doing your business in the wrong place. Remember when we went fishing and you hid in the bushes?

Granddad would roar with laughter so loudly that passers-by looked around, and Olivia would simply shrug. What was so funny?

Then, hands on hips, channeling gran, shed scold:

What do you think youre doing? Are you Budennys horse? Have some decency! Modesty is the jewel in the crown, you know. Else youll shame me!

Granddad would lead Olivia from the square, buying her a secret ice cream on the way home as an apology for his undignified behaviour.

This ice cream was secret, as she was strictly forbidden sweets before lunch. Not that granddad ever paid much mind to grans house rules, and so sometimes a treat snuck in at the wrong time. The secret was kept, for he told her in perfectly clear terms not to betray him:

Liv, if you tell gran I gave you ice cream, shell never forgive me.

Will there be a row?

Of course! Shes a spirited woman, used to being obeyed.

You dont obey.

Im a manwouldnt do for me to obey a woman!

Then we can tell her about the ice cream?

No, Liv. Not obeying is one thing, but upsetting a woman is quite another.

Are you a coward?

No, Im just wise. Id rather have peaceful silence than a kind quarrel.

What does that mean?

Ill tell you later… for now, lets buy gran some flowers!

Why?

So she wont notice your cheerful little face too soon!

Shed nod, for granddad was not just loved but treasured, with all the fibres of her childish heart.

Hed arrived one New Year as a gift to the family. Olivias gran, whod raised her since birthher parents busy with their expeditionshad married again. Gran, serious and thorough, with a legal mind and steely resolve, held little room for sentiment, except for two people: her beloved granddaughter, and the old school friend fatewith a gigglebrought back into her life.

Why a giggle? For what else but fates mischief could have paired two souls so different!

It wasnt that they looked odd togetherOlivias gran, tall and broad-hipped, and her step-granddad, short and round like a sturdy mushroom. Nor even that he kept his composure where none couldhe truly had to, twenty times a day, marrying grans spirit and handling a complicated job. No, it was something else, a bond so strong Olivia soon forgot what came before he appeared.

For all her commonsense, gran was hopelessly romantic on the sly. All her life, shed wanted poetry recited by moonlight, serenades beneath her cottage window, lilac and jasmine piled on the sill. Yet no one gave her those foolish things, convinced she didnt need them.

Her first husband admired her mind, brought flowers only on holidays, and quoted Mayakovsky at best.

Grans tender soul wilted. When she suffered, so did everyone. So, Olivias true granddad left when he could, never knowing what a woman hed had.

Romance vanished for a good while, replaced by raising a son and forging a career. Shed never have guessed her hearts longing lived next door.

Had she known, she would have raced, not walked, into fates arms. Her heart, starved of warmth, grew hard and wept bitter tears at night.

But what soul flourishes in gloom?

Light returned to gran with Olivias birthholding her granddaughter, she bloomed anew. Olivia was her joy; her own daughter, a top-rate archaeologist (like Olivias father), simply had no time for family. So, they entrusted their treasure to gran, and soon jetted off after their own, leaving Olivia to blow bubbles and scream so persistently that, in the end, the neighbours Maltese dog had to be rehomedher yapping and Olivias howling being a cacophony too great to abide.

Neighbours dispensed all manner of advice on raising children and gran, by trial and error, settled matters in her own way.

When Olivia turned one, step-granddad joined the householda bonus relative, gran said, for every child benefits from more family, and she maintained cordial relations with her first husband for Olivias sake. To avoid confusion, she declared: one granddadoriginal, as is customary; oneextra special and exclusive to Olivia. The child soon chose, loving most the one whod do anything for her and gran.

The tale of fates mercy, in bringing gran a couple of pounds of happiness in old age, was known to Olivia by heart. For it was her teething (as yet un-erupted and mildly tragic), that brought them all together.

Olivias midnight screams drove gran and neighbours mad, until a kindly soul suggested a renowned childrens dentist, Dr Peter, her old friend.

She rushed over, Olivia in tow, for gran never strayed from schedule but Dr Peters practice was nearby.

Lovely to see you, Lucy! he beamed, and gran knew that life had taken another turnthis smile had kept her awake in her schooldays, anxiously dreaming of impossible hope.

Upbringing and pride kept her silent, and Peters own shyness made him mum. But now, there being nothing left to lose, he wasted no time, and before gran could blink, she was wed again and Olivia had a new granddad.

Grans son wasnt surprisedhe politely congratulated the pair and simply asked if help with Olivia would continue. He was assured nothing would change, and all were content.

Olivia grew up loved and cared for, sure that all childhoods were like hers. She never went to nurseryher health too frail. Gran gave up after a couple of illnesses, heeding her new husband:

To the devil with nursery, Lucy! So long as the child is healthy, well do fine!

Olivia was thus socialised chiefly at their country cottage. Each year, come spring, gran and Peter moved there and stayed till autumns end.

The old estate had been divided for generations; children, grandchildren, even great-grandchildren grew up under its ancient pines. Soon, Olivia had plenty of playmates and gave her gran no cause for worryshe thrived, barely entering the house, spending her days in the summerhouse Peter built for her. It was here she played, ate, read, and received her friends.

There was always a steady streamher best friend Lucy, the Stanhope twins, Michael and Gregory, and nimble-footed Zoe, set on becoming a ballerina. And that was only the constant companychildren of cottagers, just as Olivia was.

When Olivia turned six, Catherine entered her life.

Catherine was unlike anyone Olivia knew: cheeky, untidy, stubborn, and always sure of what she wanted.

Their first meeting came one golden summer day. Olivia perched in the summerhouse, flicking through a new book granddad brought from town and carefully sorting gran-washed strawberries. That day, she expected no visitorsLucy was on French lessons with her nanny, the twins parents were off shopping for school, and Zoe toiled under the stern eye of a grandmother whod have her nothing but a star.

A brown, grubby hand grabbed a berry from beneath the table and Olivia, shocked, screamed so loudly gran nearly spilled a whole basin of jam she stirred on the cosy kitchen stove.

Olivia, what is it? gran cried, brandishing a spoon. The neighbours cats, startled, tumbled from their roof and fledknowing full well nothing good came from this house once its mistress was roused.

Gran was fond of animals, but order ranked higher, and now there was none.

Olivia, feet tucked up, leapt onto the bench, staring in horror as a cheeky, grinning girl sat under the table, rapidly devouring her berries.

Dont shout! Arent you curious why Im here?

She ignored ceremony entirely, hauling the bowl beneath the table.

Its delicious! Come down, or youll get none!

Olivia, realising she was still shrieking, cut herself off, looked helplessly at gran, then slithered under the table.

Here, said Catherine, handing her the fattest strawberry.

Your hands are dirty…

So? Were in the country! Hands are always dirty here.

Gran, seeing Olivias companion, calmed at once.

Catherine! Theres no need to scare everyone. Wheres your granddad?

Hes resting! Worn himself out again.

Gran clearly understoodall too wellwho Catherine was, and what was meant by worn out.

Girls, play nicely! Sweets on the kitchen table! Ill be back! She whipped off her apron and hurried to the front gate, not noticing Olivias astonished look, as rare was the day when sweets were ever allowed before lunch.

Halfway to the gate, gran gasped, rushed back to turn off the stove, then hurried off again, nudging a dozing Peter, who slept on the veranda through any noisebe it grans wobbly singing or Beethovens Ninth, which he played and knew by heart. Olivias cries, indeed, were music to his ears.

Mind the girls! gran kissed his head, and was gone. Peter poked his head out:

Olivia, wheres gran gone?

To wake your granddad! Catherine replied primly, offering her hand. Catherine Matthews.

Dr Peter Webster, pleased to meet you. He shook her hand rather formally.

Thus, their friendship began.

Later, Olivia learned Catherine was the granddaughter of grans old friend. Gran had persuaded him to rent the neighbouring cottage, knowing that Semen Williamsdespite his rank and career as a police officer, after losing his whole family but for Catherinestruggled. His wife, only daughter, and son-in-law died in a plane crash returning from a wedding, leaving only him and Catherine. Later, he fell ill andknowing he couldnt care for herturned to gran for help.

Lucy, what am I to do? Catherine will be all alone. Theres a queue of relatives, but none want the girljust her inheritance. How do I protect her?

Pull yourself together, Semen! Think!

They did, and after much deliberation, Semen took Catherine to live under grans roof.

Why did gran care so deeply for a child not her own? Because when she saw Catherine, thin, wide-eyed and so like Olivia, she couldnt turn her away. Who could leave a little girl with no one but an aged, ailing granddad?

Peter didnt question his wife, just kissed her fingertips: Do as you see fit.

Do you think its best for Olivia?

What harm in having more family? What harm in sisters? Its for the best.

Will we manage? gran wondered.

Lucy! Of course we shall! Better us than anyone else. If not us, then who?

They never spoke of it again.

Semen tried to recover, sometimes drank, lost hopeand then spent his last days on the summerhouse porch, smiling as the girls tore about.

He passed away in Peters old rocking chair, as Catherine dashed by, kissing his cheek: Liv says Im her sister now! Isnt that grand, granddad?

Legal matters took time, but gran ensured Catherine stayed.

Thus, Olivia gained a sister and a companion closer than any but her grandparents.

They were as different as chalk and cheese, but their differences bound them, in the closest and gentlest friendship gran couldve wished for her granddaughter.

Olivia was no longer aloneshe had a sister.

And it was Catherine whod always speak the truth to Olivia, teaching her where to speak up and when to hold her tongue; guiding her sharp powers of deduction into something useful.

You ought to be a detective, really! Though my granddad wouldnt approvealways said its a dogs life, and spoiled by the first bad inspector you deal with.

Ill be an inspector then.

Why?

So therell be at least one who isnt rotten! Olivia would laugh, blithely unaware of the challenges ahead.

People didnt take her seriously at first, even poked funcalled her odd. But she had her sights set, and those who cheered her on stood behind. And really, what could defeat someone whos so loved?

Love that stands firmly, hands on hips, brows furrowed, forever asking:

Olivia, have you eaten today? No? Disgraceful! Catherine, dont laughyou havent either, Im sure. Sit, eatand mind those plates are empty! Peter! Need an engraved invitation? Let poor Daisy go and wash up! That poor creature, whats she ever done to earn a pink tail? Just because! What sort of reason is that? Since when do I say such things? Do I? I never noticed Dont pull the wool over my eyes, you little rascals! Soups getting cold! To the table, now!The little house by the lane brimmed with warmth as voices and laughter tangled through the kitchen air, twining around the old clock, dancing in and out with the sunlight. Gran ruled her kingdom with a velvet hand and an iron will, shooing them to the table but smiling beneath her stern lookher crew, her doubly found treasures, her gathered family.

As everyone tucked in, Daisyever long-suffering and nobletook her regal place beneath Olivias chair, her pink tail a fluttering flag of their peculiar joy. Catherine pinched her sisters cheek teasingly, knowing just where to prod, and Olivia, for once, let herself be an ordinary girl; not a detective, not a prodigy, just a sister among kin, part of the mad, wonderful, beloved Bennett family.

Peter cleared his throat, caught everyones wandering gaze, and raised his cup of tea with quiet ceremony. Heres to chance and choice, he said softly. To unlikely kin and painted tails. To mistakes, forgiveness, and second helpings. And to this noisy tablemay it never be empty.

Gran harrumphed and dabbed her eye, but the corners of her mouth gave her away. The girls cheeredCatherine loudest of alland Daisy barked sharply in reply.

Later, as dusk drew its blue shawl across the gardens, the two sisters stood outside, shoulders bumping, listening to the soft clatter of plates and the wind in the poplars. Olivia breathed deep, tasting summer and remembering all the odd, perfect moments that had shaped her familya tapestry of accidents, stubborn hopes, and laughter loud enough to defy the quiet world beyond.

Hand in hand, they turned for home, the porch lamp painting halos on their heads. Behind them, grans voice rang out through the open doorbrisk as ever, calling them in before the night got too chilly.

And the Bennett familynever quite usual, but always enoughgathered together once more, safe and bright beneath one loving roof, ready for whatever ordinary miraclesor colourful adventuresthe next day would bring.