Come Dine with Me

            Amanda checked the meat thermometer. The lamb was almost done. Humming softly, she centered the vase of spring flowers on the coffee table.  Her aunts were coming for dinner, eager to see her renovations. She inherited the gardener’s old cottage, along with a small sum of money, from Uncle Roger. He brought her up after her parents died in a car accident.   Aunts Sarah and Bessie had never married and also made their home with their brother.  Amanda had known nothing but love in the big Victorian mansion.  After her marriage broke up, she came back to help nurse her uncle through his final illness. She narrowed her eyes and clenched her fists for her inheritance had not met with her expectations.

The door bell rang and she ran to greet her aunts. She ushered them in with cries of delight:
 “Dearest dearest aunties, so happy to see you. Come in and make yourselves comfortable.  Try the loveseat. Had it re-upholstered? Like my decor?  Still a lot to be done. It takes money!”
 Sarah and Bessie sat down and Amanda marvelled afresh on how different they were in appearance. Sarah, the elder sister, had an angular build and a pale complexion. Always composed, she now sat with her ankles neatly crossed. Bessie had a short rotund figure and a cheerful face with rosy cheeks. She smiled with ease, her brown eyes sparkling. It was typical of Bessie to get the conversational ball rolling:

“Mandy, I love the way you kept the country look with the flowered upholstery and I see that you did Roger’s chair over in green suede. That old brown leather armchair once was our father’s favourite chair.”  Her eyes brimmed with tears.
 “Auntie Bessie, please no tears. Uncle Roger wouldn’t want it. Spring is here. A time for renewal. I cooked lamb and new potatoes, garden peas. I made fresh mint sauce. Our favourite springtime dinner. Right?”
 Sarah nodded thoughtfully and spoke quietly:
 “Amanda, do you miss your old home? You lived there, on and off, since you were five. Your bedroom is filled with your girlhood treasures. Even your first evening gown and the mink wrap that Roger gave you. Don’t you want them in your new house?”
 “No. no, Auntie Sarah, leave them be. They belong where they are.”
 Bessie chimed in:
 “My love, soon enough the house will be yours, along with a sizable sum of money. Our brother provided well for us, may God rest his soul. But our days are numbered.”
 “Please, please, Auntie, don’t speak of sad things. Only recently, I dried my eyes from weeping for my uncle. I cannot bear the thought of more losses.”
 “Dear girl, I didn’t mean to...” Bessie stammered.
 Sarah raised her hand as she softly said:
“No more grief. Let’s talk of something cheerful.”
 Amanda cried out as she ran to the antique buffet:
 “Aunties, look over here.  Mother’s crystal glasses and a fine sauterne in the decanter!”
 Sarah and Bessie smacked their lips for they loved nothing more than a good white wine. As Amanda approached them, with two brimming glasses, she asked herself:                                                       “Which one will I poison first?”