Singular life
Animal crackers
Petronella Wyatt
When I was a child we used to spend Christmas and summer holidays at my uncle's house in Cornwall. It was one of those granite houses that stand squarely overlooking the sea. The front was Georgian and the back was a mélange of architectural styles, from late-mediaeval to Victorian. Lawns leapt over urns and statues on their way to fields kissed by wild flowers, growing close to the sand dunes by the water's edge.
Bonython, a mile or so from the village of Cuty, was a place where dreams were made. The nearest neighbours lived in a house that had been fought over during the Civil War. The ghosts of a Roundhead and a Cavalier were supposed to be visible in the woods on summer evenings. One Sunday when my father was a child, after my grandparents had gone to church, he heard the wheels of a spectral carriage driving up the gravel. Another night he woke up to see the figure of a nun standing by his bed.
Cornwall, as everyone knows, is one of the most old-fashioned parts of England: a real stick-in-the-cream. Things have gone to lobster pots, and, according to one local MP, the people produce less than those in any other part of the country, But there is still no lovelier place on a warm and sunny day. I had decided to visit friends who had a house near Padstow. I boarded the train at Paddington and soon after fell asleep in that wakeful way that you do when sitting upright.
The train journey was a hellish four-anda-half hours. Someone once gave me a book about Indian trains at the time of Gandhi. Gandhi wanted to be a man of the people and insisted on travelling third class. For a frail, elderly man, certain death would have resulted. In third-class carriages people hung from the ceiling while animals defecated on the floor. So the British had to buy a whole third-class carriage, pull out the wooden seats and put in huge squishy sofas. This cost them thousands of pounds. After travelling in such a manner for over a year Gandhi said, 'We must be beholden to the British for nothing.' He then reimbursed them the price of a third-class railway ticket.
There were animals on the train to Cornwall. One man had a cat in a plastic cage. It peed and the smell filled the carriage like spilt creosote. The man's female companion issued a fulminating rebuke. It is strange how on a train people lose all self-restraint and shout at each other freely, as if discarding a veil. 'You stupid sod,' she screamed. 'I told you not to take that disgusting cat. The trouble is you'd probably rather have sex with it than with me.' The poor man crumpled up like damp tissue-paper.
Consolation was shortly attempted in the form of a train-made prawn cocktail. Tins and cans appeared from his bag, along with one of those serving dishes that look like martini glasses. The woman's face became more scornful. You could tell she was anticipating a disaster. When the train entered a tunnel her patience was rewarded. The open jar of mayonnaise went over the cat. I have never before seen a cat covered completely in mayonnaise. It looked as if it had been caught under a snowdrift. It leapt out of its cage and ran up and down the carriage howling. As it did so blobs of mayonnaise flew off its coat and hit the other passengers. Who do you sue in such a situation, Great Western Trains or the owner of the cat?
We talked a lot about suing over the weekend. One of my fellow guests was an American girl who told me about a recent case in the United States. Some men in Minnesota decided to strap refrigerators to their backs and run races. After one man injured his spine he sued the fridge-makers for not issuing a warning that strapping an enormous fridge on to you, complete with ice-maker, might damage your back.
The next day we went to drinks at someone's house. There was a bowl of what looked like prawn crackers on the table and I greedily stuffed a handful into my mouth. It was only when I tasted blood that I realised I was chewing seashells. One of the edges had nicked the side of my gums. I wonder how much in damages I could ask for?
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