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©2017 Eva Adams

TOUGH NUT TO CRACK
London 1989
She must be very rich this woman.  This isn’t like the farmer’s house at all.  He didn’t have such beautiful things.  The walls of his room were just grey and dirty.  Hers are covered with beautiful flowers… cream, blue, pink and green.  He had only one table and one chair.  She has all these soft looking chairs and I can see three tables from here. 
 
It is very cold here though, not like home.  I wonder what she will do with me.  I can’t survive very long like this, with no sun or food.  I wish the farmer’s girl was here.  She would help me.  She cried when they took us away.
 
But this woman who brought me here, she seems nice.  She is very beautiful but she seems a little sad.  She is cooking now.  It smells good.  What’s that noise?  It sounds like a strange bird or something.  The woman’s picking it up now.  It’s red, but it doesn’t fly like a bird. The noise has stopped and she’s talking to the red thing.  What is she saying?  I don’t understand anything.
‘Yes darling, everything’s under control.  The food’s nearly ready and I’ve got plenty of drink.  Oh God! I forgot to get some tonic to go with the gin.  Could you get some on your way home?’
What is she saying?  The farmer’s girl did not talk like this.  I wish I could understand.
‘Now, you won’t forget, will you darling?  Two of the big bottles of tonic water and don’t be late.  I want you here by six o’clock.  I told them all to come for six thirty.’
She is holding the red thing next to her face.  ‘Love you too.  Bye’  She’s put the red bird down. 
 
She is coming towards me.  She’s looking at us all.  She is holding me in her hand now.  ‘These nuts really are lovely.  Especially this brazil.  So shiny and smooth…’
 
I wish I knew what she was saying.  It feels nice being in her hands.  She likes my shell.  I have worked long and hard to keep my shell in perfect condition.  Many of my brothers were jealous of my shell in Brazil.  I had the toughest shell on the farm.  Nothing could break it.  Not hurricanes, not the scorching sun, not the violent winds, nor the torrential rains.  Nothing.  It is good no-one knows how soft I am inside.
‘Hey Lady!  Don’t do that, it tickles.’  She can’t hear me, and even if she could she wouldn’t understand.  Ouch! She could have put me down gently instead of just throwing me down like that.