Some Peculiarities of the Krasavin Family of Miss Olive Fairchild

Some Curious Traits of the Walker Family

– Look, there goes Olivia with her dog…

– Oh lord, whats she done to that poor animal this time? Would you look at that! His tails not purple anymoreits pink now! Look at him wagging it about!

– Well, what do you expect from a girl with her quirks? She may be odd, but shes kind and decent! You wont find many like her these days, will you? When her nan was poorly, Olivia practically lived at the hospital. Fluttering about all the time, not giving a thought to her own young life.

– Really, now! Just yesterday I saw a rather handsome young fellow drop her off outside the flats.

– Mightve been a cab driver!

– Oh, sure! Since when do cabbies kiss their fares on the hand?

– Did they, now?

– Course they did! Im telling you, our Olivias about to get herself married soon.

– Well, thatd be lovely for her! Her gran would be chuffed to bits. Shes raised such a clever, beautiful, decent girl! If only her job were different, shed be perfect!

– What have you got against Olivias job, then?

– A detective inspector? Thats no job for a young woman, is it?

– I wouldnt say that! Who nowadays really has the respect for the law like her nan? Exactly! Olivias made a smashing detective inspector! They wrote about her in the local paper, and she was on the telly onceall sorts of praise. And here you are, grumbling!

– Me? Ive nothing to say! All the best to her, as they say. Shes always stood out, even as a child, you know? Remember what she was like?

– Of course! All her nanspitfire of a girl, that one!

The Olivia in question strolled by, offering a polite nod to the neighbours on the bench outside the block. Suddenly, she darted off with a playful skip, catching up to her happy dog bouncing along the ice-dusted pathway, his tail as pink as a sunrise.

– There she goes! Wheres she off to now?

– Where else? Off to collect her sister! Katherines flying in today.

– Howd you know that?

– Olivia told me, didnt she! Look, theres a taxi pulling up now!

From the car stepped a tall, slender young woman, whowith barely a wordstrode towards Olivia, hands tightly wrapped in a hug around her, before whistling for the dog weaving between their feet.

– Oh Olivia! What have you done to the dog this time?!

– What? Doesnt it look fabulous? Nans favourite shade!

– Ive missed you so much, you odd thing.

The two sisters embraced, laughter spilling out as easily as always.

The truth was, everyone on the estate knew Olivia Walker was a bit of an odd bird. Her quirks started all the way back in her golden childhood. A sweet kid with skinny little plaits and big old-fashioned bows, tied by her doting grandmother. Shed beam her crooked, pre-dentist teeth at the neighbours with a shy little How do you do? and a smile so wide it made her squint.

But she would always follow up with, How are you today? And honestly, folks stopped answering soon enough, even those with nothing to hide and no chatty parakeets threatening to spill family secrets.

You see, people were a bit wary of Olivia.

She could really talk. Not just chatter for the sake of it! The thing was, Olivia had that special knack for taking any little thing overheard, any sight spotted, putting two and two together as neat as you like, and passing that on to exactly who it concerned, right on cue.

– Auntie Janet, while you were at work, your Uncle Sid popped over to see Aunty Irene, brought her flowers too! Just like the ones he gets you for your birthdayyellow ones, but a huge bunch this time. I asked to smell them but he said no and took them in to hers. Why can Irene have flowers but not me?

Janet, whod been happily letting Sid string her along with stories of working late, would stop dead, panicking that the neighbours mightve overheard Olivias little exposé, then hurry by without so much as a good afternoon for her gran.

– Darling, why chat with Auntie Janet like that? She didnt ask you anything! – Her gran would scold, never really explaining.

Olivia would be wounded, not understanding at all what shed done wrong. In her mind, shed just told the truth! What was so awful about that?

It was the not knowingthe confusionthat got to her most. If gran just spelled it out, perhaps Olivia would learn to hold her tongue next time.

Instead, after such events, her gran went all quiet and marble-still, just like the town squares Winston Churchill statue Olivia liked to visit on Sundays. Gran would take her handgentle but firmtight-lipped and glare in that way that meant No pudding for afters tonight, young lady.

Olivia would sulk a fair bitright up until shed remember that gran, at least, didnt have pigeons making a mess on her head. Which meant her hair always stayed much nicer than Sir Winstons, whose bald old head she knew well.

It was Olivias step-grandad whod told her about Churchill, of course.

– Whys he bald? Olivia would squint up as the sun shone.

– Worried too much! Grandad never minced his words.

– Worry does that? Mustve had tough work then, yeah?

– Certainly.

– Was he a childrens dentist, too? Olivia would picture that granite statue hunched over in Grandads surgery, frightening all the little ones.

The thought made her giggle, imagining Churchill popping his head through the door, scaring the queue of children rigid.

Grandad would eye her oddly, then break into laughter.

– If only! The worldd be different, I bet. No, Olivia, he was a Prime Minister!

– A what?! Her mouth would drop. But if he was a chief, he should have feathers on his head like in that storybook you read me! Poor thing, all bald, and pigeons never leaving him alone! Do you reckon pigeon feathersd do for What do you call it?

– A headdress?

– Yes! Exactly!

– Nah, my girl. Eagle feathers, those ones.

– Oh, poor eagles! Theyre so prettyand gran says its not polite to do your business just anywhere like those pigeons, remember? When we went fishing and you nipped behind the bushes, she said you had to do things properly, else its just not nice.

Grandad would cackle so loud, everyone in the park would turn and stare, but Olivia would only shrugwhat was so funny? Adults are odd.

Then, arms folded, shed glare at him and copy grans words:

– What do you think youre playing at?

– Oh? Grandad, wiping tears from laughing, would grin.

– Are you Buddys horse or something, carrying on like that? You should be more respectable! Shed jab her fists into her hips, just like gran, Modesty is a virtue! So behave yourself, or youll embarrass me!

Grandad would lead her home, to make up for his laughing fit, with a secret ice cream. Secret because gran was adamant: no sweets before lunch. But step-grandad was never one for rules, so Olivia sometimes got a special treat, the only secret she ever kept properly.

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

– Will there be a big row?

– You know her, firecracker. She has to have the last word.

– You dont listen to her!

– Im a man, arent I? Wouldnt be much good if I did everything a woman told me!

– So we can tell her about the ice cream then? Shed eye him slyly.

– No! Theres a difference between not listening and winding up a woman!

– Are you a scaredy-cat, grandad?

– Not at all. I just prefer a quiet life to a shouting match.

– What do you mean?

– Ill explain one day. For now, lets buy some flowers for gran, so she doesnt spot your ice cream grin.

Olivia loved her step-grandad with her whole heart, not just for the treats, but because he made her world brighter.

Hed come into her life as a New Years present when her gran, whod raised Olivia alone because her parents were off on one archaeological dig after another, decided to remarry an old admirer. Gran, a formidable woman with a law degreebossy and responsiblewasnt especially sentimental, except when it came to her granddaughter and, eventually, to her new husband.

And what a pair! Gran, tall and stately, next to her new husband, short, plump, and sturdy as a little barrel. But what really bonded them was endurance. It took a lot to stay calm when Gran really got goingtemper, quick wit, and that job of hers! But he held his own, and as time went on, Olivia couldnt imagine life before he arrived.

Secretly, though, Gran was hopelessly romantic. Shed always longed for moonlit poetry readings and serenades under the cottage window, lilac sprigs on the sill. No one ever deliveredeveryone assumed such things would be wasted on a woman like her.

Her first husband admired her cleverness, but only ever gave flowers on holidays and, if he was feeling extra soppy, quoted a bit of T.S. Eliot now and then.

That never set her heart ablaze. When Gran was unhappy, so was the household. Thats why her first husband, Olivias biological grandad, left when he got the chance, never truly grasping who hed loved.

So Gran raised her son, built her career, and romance slipped out the back dooruntil Olivia was born. With this noisy, skinny little bundle, Gran blossomed again. At last, some hope, a little beam of light.

Olivias parents, crack archaeologists both, had little time for childcare, so Gran was put in charge. And soon enough, her daughter and son-in-law were off again, hunting golden relics abroad and leaving their true treasure at home.

Little Olivia, with her baby cheeks, would bellow so loudly that the neighbours had to rehome their lapdog, whose howling was making the situation even less bearable.

Neighbours gave Gran the usual string of stern advice about raising children, some of which she tried, and after a bit, things fell into place.

Soon, step-grandad Peter came alongGran deciding more grandparents could only be an advantage, so Olivia grew up knowing she was much loved, and with both a half-regular and a bonus grandad in her life.

She never went to nursery muchher immune system was never the strongest. Every time Gran tried, Olivia ended up ill for weeks. Eventually, Gran gave in to her husbands advice.

– Stuff nursery, love! Main thing is the childs healthy! The rest, well sort somehow.

So socialising was left for spring and summer at the cottage. The village was old, with families whod kept their plots for generationschildren, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren running about, an endless supply of mates. Olivia was in her element, outdoors from dawn to dusk, surrounded by friends: her best mate Sophie, the twin boys next door, Michael and George, and little Zoe, who already dreamed of Covent Garden. These were her year-round friends.

But it was when Olivia turned six and met Kate that things truly changed.

Kate was differentcheeky, rough-and-tumble, stubborn as anything, and never shy about what she wanted.

First time Olivia and Kate met, it was a warm summers day. Olivia was in the garden pavilion, engrossed in a new book her step-grandad had brought from town, picking through a bowl of freshly-washed strawberries. She wasnt expecting anyoneSophie was busy learning French, the twins had been dragged to town for new school kit, and Zoe was at ballet with her pushy grandma.

Suddenly, a grubby little hand sneaked under the table, and Olivia shrieked so suddenly that Gran nearly spilled an entire basin of strawberry jam she was stirring on the kitchen stove.

– Olly, what on earth?! Gran ran to the veranda, immediately scaring off the neighbours cats.

She wasn’t usually cross with animals, but order in her kitchen was sacred. Finding Olivia up on a bench, she calmed down only after spotting the smiling, muddy-faced Kate, perched under the table and unashamedly nicking strawberries.

– Why are you yelling? Dont you want to know why Im here?

Kate grabbed the whole bowl, slouching under the table.

– Tastes great! Climb down, or therell be none left for you!

Realising she was still shrieking, Olivia finally stopped, looked sheepish, then joined Kate under the table.

– Here, have the biggest one Kate offered.

– But your hands are filthy…

– So what? Its summer. Everyones always a bit grubby.

Gran, seeing her granddaughter happily sharing with the new arrival, shook her head, happy enough to leave the girls to it. She nipped back to turn off the jam, muttering good-naturedly.

Soon Gran returned, roused step-grandad Peter, and made brief introductions:

– Look after the girls, will you! She kissed his head before heading out. Peter squinted into the hot sunshine.

– Olivia, wheres Gran gone?

– Wake up, Grandad! Kate, now formal, shook his hand. Katherine Matthews.

– Peter Vincent. Pleased to meet you! he replied, dead serious.

Thats how Olivia met her soul sister.

Later, Olivia would find out Kate was the only granddaughter of an old friend of Grans. After a tragedy that left Kate with only her tired grandad, Gran had brought them to their village, helping Kates grandad find a cottage next door.

When Kates family were killed in a plane crash, and her grandad was left battling with illness, Gran stepped up, convincing him she could help give Kate a real family.

Gran explained to her husband:

– Peter, do you think thisll work for Olivia?

– Whats wrong with a child having an extra sister? Whats wrong with a home full of family? For Olivia, this is perfect.

– But can I love them both the same?

– You dont need to love people the same. You just love. However you cantime will sort it all out.

So, after all the paperwork, Kate became Olivias sister, and Olivia wasnt alone anymore.

They were opposites, but it workedKate taught Olivia honesty, who to trust, and when to keep her mouth shut, and guided her gift for deduction to good use.

– You ought to be a detective! Though grandad would say its a dogs lifeonly for the case to get botched by a rubbish detective.

– Then Ill be the detective inspector, so at least one of us wont be rubbish! Olivia would crack, not knowing just how true that would become.

People sniggered at first, calling her odd, but Olivia had her sights set and people who backed her, no matter what. After all, with love like theirs behind you, how could anything stop you?

Love, in Gran-form, standing arms akimbo at the kitchen door:

– Olivia, have you eaten anything today? No? Outrageous! And you too, Katherinedont pretend! Off to lunch, and I want clean bowls when youre done! Peter! Need an engraved invitation? Put the dog down and wash your hands! Honestly, you lot have worn that poor animal out! Whats a pink tail for anyway? Oh, what do you mean I say that? Do I? Didnt notice! Stop winding me up, you cheeky monkeyssoups getting cold! Off you go, all of you!