Effie

Effie lives next door to us, in a little cabin. Her daughter, son-in-law and two teenaged granddaughters live in the main house. We don’t see her all that often, although we hear her sweet, wavery singing voice wafting through the bamboo fence - she used to be an opera singer. 

Effie was born in 1926, the same year as The Queen Of England. Also the same year as my mother, who has been dead nearly twenty years now. It’s hard to imagine that Mum, had she lived, would look as old as Effie does now. Effie’s daughter says she can’t really get used to the idea that her mother is ‘old’ either.

Effie ( short for the Greek name Ephigenia) has a tinkling laugh and a wicked sparkle in her eye. A while back I was sitting next to her  at a  big party when the hosts’ teenaged girls came home  with a couple of  handsome young French boys they’d picked up somewhere.

‘Oh, aren’t they gorgeous-looking fellows!’ said Effie, which was what we were all thinking.  ‘See,  you can say that kind of thing when you reach my age!’.

Last December Effie  hobbled over with her walking stick to our place, with a Christmas gift : Greek biscuits she’d baked herself, with the help of her two granddaughters. There were two sorts of biscuits,  golden-coloured honey-biscuits,  and  crescent moon-shaped shortbreads dusted with icing sugar, with a clove planted in the centre. The biscuits were wrapped in cellophane and arranged in a little basket with a red ribbon and a pink geranium from Effie’s garden. 

Of course we invited her in for a cup of tea. After I’d made the tea, I wished I hadn’t used teabags, because I’d heard that Effie reads tea-leaves. She said the biscuits were made ‘by hand, with love and no machinery’

The next time she came over, I made sure we had loose tea, and she gave me a tea leaf reading. I can’t remember now what she said. I think she saw an eagle, and maybe a fish. 

In her 50’s, Effie travelled to India and Nepal. She studied Tibetan Buddhism and did meditation retreats. I can imagine her as an intrepid traveller. She still likes to get out and about, and seems to have a flock of willing young ( well, much younger than she is) friends who pick her up and drive her to social events.

It was her 85th birthday last week and we were  invited next door for a celebration with some other friends, and  Effie’s son and daughter in law. We gathered in the living room and there were pots of warm soup. These first  cosy Winter nights are  still a delicious novelty. Effie’s son turned out to be a magical pianist who somehow had us all singing and clapping and dancing. Guitar, ukulele,  the two teenage girls singing; and  F on the clarinet  in ‘Stand by Me’. Effie in the percussion section clinking along with a little temple bell, with a beautific expression on her face. 

I even played a song on my ukulele, a clumsy beginner version of You Are My Sunshine. My first ever public performance. Everyone clapped afterwards. More singing, more dancing, a sweet moment.