Out
Out Eliza flew from Boston late Easter afternoon. She traveled to Frankfurt, cramped between “two gigantic German Goths who spilled over their seats and smothered the arm rests.” Because she bought an inexpensive ticket, she had an eight-hour layover in Frankfurt, after which she flew to Edinburgh, arriving at noon on Monday. The apartment was ready. I raised a cot in the sitting room and cleaned the shelves built into the walls. Eliza is a picky eater. At the grocery I bought skimmed milk and a choice of breakfast cereals, hoping she would eat one: Tesco’s Malty Flakes with “red berries”—freeze-dried cherries, strawberries, and raspberries—and two brands from Jordans, Organic Swiss-Style Muesli and Country Crisp Four Nut Combo. Eliza is also a vegetarian and likes meals heavy with salads and chocolate. At Thorntons I bought the Continental, the biggest box of candy the store sold, containing 112 truffles packed in two layers in a round box wrapped in gold cloth. Since Eliza would be in Edinburgh a week, she had to eat 16 pieces of candy a day to finish the box. She started well, getting through 9 pieces the first day, but then she slumped, managing only 49 during her stay, an average of 7 a day, forcing her to pack the other 63 pieces in her suitcase when she left. I adore Eliza, and I wanted to stock her mind with memories that might pop up decades later and brighten a rainy day. I so wanted her to enjoy herself that the week before she came I slept poorly, often waking at two in the morning and getting out of bed to read about restaurants Out 121 or plan activities. Monday morning the North Sea swept over Edinburgh , wind cresting then breaking and running heavy over the ground in currents, the rain not a drizzle but waves pounding, the fog so thick I could barely see the top of the house in which I lived, much less Arthur’s Seat or the castle. For the first time I used an umbrella. I rode the bus to the airport. All the passengers were soaked, the young smiling because they were young, the old resigned, their expressions stolid and unchanging , anticipating nuisances ahead. My feet were cold, and my friend Raymond came to mind. On dark days in Storrs sometimes he greets me by making slicing motions along his forearm starting at his wrist, all the while saying “the time has come for the warm tub.” When Eliza suddenly appeared in the terminal, forty-six bracelets jingling on her right arm, I felt gloriously happy and for a second wondered how I’d endured the months away from family. Eliza deserved better than the bus, and from the airport we took a taxi back to Blacket Place. While she showered, I heated a can of Baxters soup. On a plate I laid half a baguette and from the Iain Mellis shop on Victoria five cheeses, all cheddars, Eliza’s favorite. She brought one suitcase and few clothes, magazines and books taking up most of the space in her bag. I worry about colds and fevers, so much so that Vicki calls me “Mama Bear,” a phrase my mother applied to herself. I fetched a sweater and fleece from my closet and gave them to Eliza. The only socks she brought were thin and pink, so I handed her a pair of bed socks and seven pairs of walking socks. On damp days I urged her to change her socks twice, and the washing machine ran often during her visit. In fact I started the machine while she was in the shower. Because her nightgown was too flimsy for basement living, I washed a sweatshirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants in which I slept and gave them to her. After Eliza finished lunch, topping the cheese off with five truffles, we set out. During her visit we were on our feet, with the exception of this first half day, for at least ten hours a day. Fog remained thick and webby until Thursday, but we blazed ahead, sometime during the week walking almost every street in the downtown from Strathearn and Beaufort Grange in the south to Lothian and Queensferry to the west, from Inverleith in the north around Calton Hill to Queen’s Drive to the east. We ranged out along the Old Dalkeith Road to Craigmillar Castle then up to...
OR
Buy This Book in Print