Wild Fiction

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Rebecca wondered if she should tell the author what she had learnt. He appeared distracted, worried about a paper he had lost. She decided against it and went in search of the others. They were sitting in the kitchen around the breakfast bar. James was carving up a loaf of bread and making sandwiches for them. They were talking about the football match last Saturday where Arsenal had thrashed Manchester United eight one. Surely, the author would not stoop so low as to include his football team in a favourable light. She then remembered that he had no interest in football whatsoever and probably did not know the names of any other football teams. No, that couldn’t be possible, he must have heard of Liverpool, Chelsea, and Gary Linekar. Hang on, is Gary Linekar a team or a player. She wasn’t certain until she applied the team naming formula and realised that Gary Linekar was not the name of a place and so it couldn’t possibly be the name of a football team. Feeling happier with this and armed with a little football knowledge, she butted in. ‘So how did Gary Linekar play on Saturday?’
They laughed at her. ‘Have something to eat,’ James said. ‘Gary Linekar has been retired for years.’
Rebecca picked up a piece of Melba toast and spread butter on it. It made a loud crunching noise in her mouth.
‘What makes this Melba toast and not simply thin and crusty toast?’
Conrad and James looked blankly at her.
‘I mean where does the name Melba come from?’ crumbs fell from her mouth and caught in her hair.
‘Oh that, it’s named after Dame Nellie Melba,’ James said. ‘She was a famous opera singer and in 1897 she became very ill and this type of toast formed part of her diet. After that they referred to it as Melba’s toast and then it became Melba Toast. That wasn’t even her real name either. Her real name was Helen Porter Mitchell.’
‘How do you know all this stuff?’
‘I read a lot and I love trivia.’
‘You got that from reading? Reading what exactly?’
‘Never mind.’
‘I do mind. You can’t just say things like that without being able to quote a source. How do I know you’re not lying?’
‘Would you, or could you, make up a story like that?’
Rebecca took another bite of the toast and crunched it in her mouth. ‘Please tell me where you read that,’ she said spraying small specks of toast in James’s face.
‘I read it in The Sun. Okay?’ James looked down at the table and rubbed his eyes. ‘I was embarrassed to say that I sometimes read The Sun. Are you happy now?’
Rebecca flicked her eyes at the ceiling. ‘It doesn’t matter what you read so long as you read objectively and question it all.’
James and Conrad returned to talking about football and Rebecca finished the piece of toast.
‘Now onto a far more important matter, did you discover anything in the house?’ she asked them.

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