Not Buying the Wild Sea Trout

20th July 2011 Wednesday

This morning a dear friend comes to visit. We sit round the kitchen table with cups of liquorice and mint tea whilst the rain hammers down on the red geraniums and the batters the lillies in the garden. Our friend works with people who are recovering from brain injuries and he is offering his expertise, his suggestions his support - his friendship. He says women are good at supporting each other and men are mostly rubbish at it. Their way is to do stuff together. He arranges to go walking with my husband. For me his thoughtfulness is like an open hand reaching across the river.

I make a clean green and white soup for lunch - onions and fennel, neroli cabbage and broad beans in a garlicky vegetable broth. We talk about some of our friend’s suggestions using pictures/words/photos/video diaries to strengthen my husband’s leaking vocabulary. I feel his resistance although he says he’s willing to try it - if he can get over his little boy pattern of ‘It’s not my idea, it’s yours - so I’m not playing’. I think he will find a way. We could do it together.

Later I sit with my father in the treatment room at the surgery while a nurse uses a machine like a narrow hooked finger to force warm water into his ear and wriggle out the wax curled up in there. He says it hurts more than going to the dentist. But at least now he can have his hearing aid appointment. He walks very very slowly up the stairs back at his home. He looks exhausted and says I should go as he wants to sleep before supper. I feel sad when I leave him.

The fishmonger is closing when I arrive at the door, all the cabinets empty, but he rummages in the fridge and finds two huge red spotted plaice which he prepares and cleans for me. We talk about the wild sea trout he has for sale. I’ve had one before - speckled brown like the age spots on the backs of my hands, with a delicate perfumed flavour. I know their season is very short - he only has one left but at £30 it’s not in my budget any more.

The plaice is delicious though - plain grilled with butter and a lemony mustard mayonnaise. I’m not going to think about that wild sea trout - silly to hanker after something you haven’t got when what you have got is perfect.