37 Sending

Maud sat in the midst of chaos, surrounded by a sea of paper, pens and ribbons.  Elsie stood in the doorway holding two cups of tea, a disapproving look on her face.

“Why are you sitting on the floor?” she asked.  “You’ll never get up on your own.”

“I always sit on the floor to wrap presents,” replied her sister.  “I can’t imagine doing it any other way.”

“And because of your limited imagination, you’ll get stuck like you did last year, and the year before, and…”

“Next year,” grinned Maud.

Elsie shook her head in exasperation, making her carefully set curls bounce.  “You’re incorrigible, Maud.”

“Which is why you love me.  Now, are you going to stand there until the tea goes cold or are you going to bring it in?”

“I daren’t step into all… that…” Elsie moved the cup in her right hand vaguely in the direction of the mess.  “Either I’ll disturb whatever system you have here, or I’ll get swept up in it all and end up just another parcel.”

Maud laughed.  “You really should have been a writer, as I’ve said many times.  But you always had to be the responsible one.  When have you done anything just for you?”

“Someone had to take care of you and Lily.”

“But who takes care of you?”

Elsie’s face softened.  “You don’t do a bad job, you know?  I’d never go to all this trouble for Lily but I know you will, which means no pressure for me.”

“Oh…”  Maud was uncharacteristically lost for words.  “I…  I’ve never thought of it like that before…”

The two sisters looked at each other in an all-too-brief moment of affection, quickly smothered in British reserve and petty resentments.

“Anyway… the tea…” said Maud, pointing at her own mug in Elsie’s hand.  “As you said earlier, I can’t get up, so you’ll have to come to me…”

Elsie sighed, and picked a path towards her own armchair.  She placed Maud’s mug on the coffee table where she would be able to reach it, then sat back with a sigh, bringing her own mug to her lips.

“You were right; it is going cold,” she commented.  “You’d better drink yours before you do any more.”

“I’ll just finish this ribbon,” said Maud, running the blade of her scissors along the shiny length to create a perfect ringlet that bounced alongside three others.  She put the scissors down… on the floor, Elsie noticed, so she would spend at least five minutes looking for them again… picked up her mug, took a sip and smiled.

“Nobody makes tea like you, Elsie.”

“Was that why you invaded my home when Stan died?”

“Invaded?  You invited me!”

“Only until you got back on your feet.  I didn’t expect you to take up residence.”

“Nonsense!  It was your idea for me to sell the house.”

Elsie changed the subject.  “So, what are we sending to Lily?”

Another smile spread across Maud’s face.  “That pile there in the really pretty pink paper… those are your things.  That sweet little bracelet you found in the antique shop, and those smellies she loves so much, and… well you know what you bought her!

“And I’ve got her that beautiful shawl I picked up on our trip to Edinburg, the bed socks I crocheted, some more smellies, and this…” she held up an enamelled brooch in the shape of a lily.

“Oh, that is pretty!  How much is it going to cost to send all of this through the post, anyway?”

“What does it matter?  Our baby sister is turning seventy.  Nothing is too much trouble.”

“It would probably be cheaper to fly out there ourselves,” sniffed Elsie.  “I never understood why she had to take herself so far away.”

Maud’s eyes grew misty, as they often did when thinking of Lily.  “She went for love…”

“Love?!  They were divorced within two years.”

“But it was so romantic while it lasted.  And then she had to stay because of the twins…”

Elsie opened her mouth, presumably to make one of her usual cutting comments about their sister and her family, closed it again, then asked, “So, do you need any help?”