Inheritance by Jenny Pattrick Read Free Book Online Page A

would not be out so soon.
    Gertrude turned her brittle smile on John O’Dowd, who looked down, embarrassed, perhaps, by all this attention. ‘And now that I have found him and his lovely family, I would like you all to treat him as a Schroder. As if, my dear friends, he were my son!’ A final triumphant rap of her cane.
    In the silence that greeted this announcement, Teo Levamanaia, the cheeky boy, set up an ironic slow clap. It was a shocking act of rudeness and very un-Samoan. He stood there, handsome, in white shirt and dark lavalava, but showing ill will in every movement, his eyes challenging, his mouth down-turned. His sister quickly covered with a few words, ironic too, but more subtle. ‘Congratulations, Great Aunt Gertrude, a relative at last.’ She crossed the room and engulfed John in a bear-like embrace. Elena was a good head and shoulders taller, and built like a tank. Even Simone was in awe of her. John bore the embrace stoically, not knowing where to put his arms or his face, not quite sure if the welcome was sincere, but smiling his goodwill. Everyone watched this ritual with interest. Next, Elena advanced on Jeanie who stood close to us, watching. I’m sure none of the new relatives had the least idea of the issues their arrival stirred up. ‘Beautiful puletasi,’ murmured Elena. ‘Welldone.’ Then in a louder voice, ‘Welcome cousin.’ She clapped her hands, let out a blood-curdling whoop and danced a few steps around the nonplussed O’Dowds, her outstretched hands as delicate as butterflies. Teo tossed back his head and laughed – more of a grim shout – but he joined in, all slapping chest and weaving knees, whooping and singing. He could never hold a mood for more than a few minutes. I was pleased to see he still remembered a few Samoan ways, even if he was using them to undermine Gertrude’s European-style welcome. Simone started clapping in time to the rhythm. Another minute and she would have been dancing too. Giles, chuckling like a maniac, egged her on.
    Gertrude, frowning ominously, took John’s arm firmly and led him out of the room, Stuart following like an eager dog. But Jeanie stayed. It was all immensely entertaining.

    The feast brought a certain Schroder order back into the afternoon. Gertrude’s plantation workers had laid a double row of mats on the cool concrete pad under her house. The tall pillars supporting the house were wreathed in coconut fronds and frangipani blossoms. At right angles to the mats was a table, set with a lacy white tablecloth, crystal glasses and wreaths of flowers. This was for the guests of honour and other palagi. Even high-born Samoans and the priest were seated on the floor. Under fa‘asamoa they should have ranked above Simone and me. But this was Gertrude. All those of European status were seated on chairs; those who followed Samoancustom sat below us. Highly embarrassing, not that the old lizard cared.
    The feast itself could not be faulted by any standards. Each of us was presented with a huge portion of food – chunks of delicious pork and chicken from the umu, a large round of taro, and rather tough beef from the plantation. On our table, and all down the row of mats, were bowls of chop suey and palusami, whole fish, trifle, cake and pineapple. We ate on large plates marked with the Schroder coat of arms; those on the floor ate with their fingers from banana leaf plates. But apart from the snub to the high-born (Elena and Teo and their mother, who had arrived late) and to the priest, Gertrude’s feast was generous and pleasant. A record player entertained with Beethoven and Chopin, the air under the house was cool, the housegirl kept the chickens and pigs at bay, and there were plenty of attendants to fan away the flies.
    ‘So what’s the truth about these relatives?’ I asked Giles, who was seated next to me. ‘Are they truly hers?’ I wanted to tease out what version he knew.
    ‘Oh yes, truly her sister’s. But definitely not