Page 67 of One Summer

Fifty-Six

Cookies

We look up to see Betty approaching.

‘Ah, just who I was looking for,’ she says, reaching up to kiss her grandson on the cheek. He stoops down to let her and when he pulls away, there’s a bright-red lip-print smack in the middle of his jaw. Neither Betty nor I mention it.

‘I made you some cookies,’ she says, handing him a Tupperware containing brown paper packages, and taking the hoverboard out of his hand. He takes off the Tupperware lid for a sniff and the smell is divine.

‘There’s some in there for you too, Lindy, so make sure he shares them. There, you’ve saved me the bother of walking to your houses. Eat them while they’re warm. Food always tastes better outside.’

As she talks, it’s like she’s casting a spell over us. Even Ted looks at her face and appears to listen.

‘Come on, Caleb, give Lindy a cookie.’

Caleb? I’ve always liked that name. It was the name I gave to my imaginary boyfriend when I was thirteen. We met on the cliffs and walked along the beach at sunset. He’s ruined the name for me now.

He passes over my parcel of cookies.

‘Try one,’ Betty says to us both. Dutifully, we both eat one and she seems pleased.

She makes small talk with both of us, until eventually, she notices that Ted is staring up at her.

‘Look at the little teddy bear,’ she says.

She lets him sniff her hand and then offers him one of the cookies we’ve been eating, but before he can take it from her, she snatches it away and looks startled.

‘Goodness me, he can’t have that. I forgot to say, didn’t I?’

‘Say what?’ Caleb asks, looking suspicious.

‘I didn’t mention that they were weed cookies, did I? I’ve been experimenting lately. The oldies down Knit and Natt love them.’

‘You’ve drugged us?’ I say, reeling, because Caleb and I have both eaten two of these cookies, since they tasted so utterly delicious.

‘Unintentionally, my darling. I thought you knew!’

‘Oh god,’ I say. ‘I’ve never been high in my life. I’m very judgemental about drugs.’

Caleb, initially looking alarmed, now seems amused.

‘Truth is, darling, I don’t even think of it as drugs,’ Betty says. ‘I’ve been growing it in the garden for decades. Cannabis grows lovely in this climate. It’s purely for personal use. It’s not like I sell them. It just gives me a bit of pep in my step on the days that I need it.’

I don’t feel any different, and Caleb doesn’t seem to be too concerned. Perhaps there’s such a small amount that I won’t even notice.

He shrugs. ‘What’s the worst that a couple of cookies can do?’

‘I don’t know,’ I say, feeling my heart race. ‘Maybe I’ll want to take a leap off the cliffs and see if I can fly.’

Betty scoffs. ‘That was just propaganda put out by the government to stop people taking LSD and magic mushrooms. They couldn’t have the workforce getting their minds expanded by psychedelics and reaching higher planes of consciousness, could they? They needed them to show up for their shifts!’

‘I don’t know, I think it was a documented phenomenon,’ Caleb says, sounding as if he’s an expert on the subject.

‘Bollocks was it,’ Betty says. ‘That was all made up. Anyway, nobody ever jumped off a cliff because of a cannabis cookie – not one of mine anyway. You’ll be fine.’

She reaches down to pat Ted, and he gets up on his hindlegs, puts his front paws on her shins and waits to be lifted.

‘I’ve heard he’s not been getting on with your cat,’ she says, cuddling Ted. ‘He can stay with me in the bungalow for a little while if you like? Give the cat a chance to settle in.’

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