11 Aug PAMDEMONIUM

Despite her name being …Madeline Pamela Jayne Grey on her birth certificate, her parents had often called her ”Mad Pam”… or even when driven to it “Pamdemonium” and it had stuck. Even Kevin Schwartz, her fourth cousin twice removed, had taken to calling her it. But, Madeline was determined that all that would change when she left home for university. They would all see that she could be different and her life would become just like everyone else’s. Or so she had thought! However, after what had happened only that morning, she had been forced to take a long hard look at how her life had turned out.

She conceded that her parents did have some justification for their choice of nickname. To some it could seem that she had a habit of causing chaos wherever she went. At school, she had been prone to the odd accident, or two. Her mind immediately flew to the time she had been pushed at the pelican crossing on her way to school one wintry morning and fallen right into the path of a passing cyclist. However, it was hardly her fault, that he had in turn crashed into the small van next to him and grabbed the handle on the rear door to save himself. The fact that the door had then swung open and released three squealing piglets causing the other drivers behind and around to swerve and bump into each other could hardly be blamed on her; surely. 

Cousin Kevin, had always been supportive. That’s why his friendship had lasted all the way up to going to university. He fancied himself as somewhat of an amateur sleuth, after he had been given a deer stalker and magnifying glass as a birthday present. He had often proved useful for extracting her from her trickier escapades; like when they had first met after his parents had moved back into the village. She had been dared by her two best friends, Sylwia and Rachael, to climb up the wall of the local farmer’s orchard to try and pick some of the delicious fruit that hung on the branch that draped over it. Well, they knew her weakness for apples and particularly green, sweet, crisp ones. The thought alone had her salivating. Next thing she knew she was scrambling for toeholds in the crevices and cracks in the old yellow dry-stone wall. She had just hauled herself onto the top and got her hands on her first apple, when a loud shout from the farmer startled her and made her fall backwards. It was Kevin, passing by on his way home, who managed to break her fall and allow them to get away unharmed and most importantly, unrecognised! Scrumping apples had immediately been added to her diary that night as the best way to find a new friend.

Yes, of course she kept a diary! What ten year old girl didn’t? Otherwise how would she have remembered this incident in the mist of all the others that befell her?

Then that led her to the time when Kevin had proved her innocence, when she had been accused of theft when working as a Saturday girl in the local sweet shop. The manager had said that she had taken several of the small packets of Dolly Mixtures, which were displayed on the shelves nearest to the door of the shop. Kevin had stepped in just when she had burst into tears and told him that there was no way she would have stolen the Dolly Mixtures, as she had always disliked them. Was he sure that they had actually been stolen? The manager had blustered a bit and told him that they were missing and as the money was not in the till, they must have been stolen. Kevin marched right over to the shelving and gave it a good look. Pam and the manager had walked over too, when he started pointing. Without a word said, Kevin, had shown them how the packets had disappeared by demonstrating where they had slipped down between the back of the shelf and the wall behind where it had come away from its fastening. By using his trusty penknife with the multitude of gadgets on it, he had released the end of the shelf fully and revealed the missing treasure trove of sweets packets. The mystery solved, Pam’s tears had dried up. The manager, by way of an apology, had treated them to a box of continental chocolates. Cousins do have their uses. However, there were to be no more where that box had come from; as the job in the sweet shop had come to an abrupt end the following week, when she had inadvertently managed to trip and fall in the stock room and caused a cascade effect on the shelving, that resulted in her being found in the middle of a sweetie mountain by a very red-faced angry manager.

Pam thought once more of the incident that had triggered all these memories. She had just been on her way to the local parade of shops to pick up her usual Saturday morning treats. Fresh croissants and the Saturday paper and a magazine. When, much to her surprise she had found herself once again being pushed into the road as she stood waiting to cross at the pelican crossing. This time she was ready for it! She automatically threw herself backwards and in turn made the person doing the pushing unsteady. As she got herself out of harm’s way, Pam caught a glimpse of a hooded body scrabbling to their feet and running off in the opposite direction.  It shook her to think that someone might have wanted to harm her!

That evening Chas, her latest boyfriend, came to take her out to celebrate their first month together. Hence, here they were in the small Greek restaurant which was a firm favourite with the local students. He went to take her light jacket for her and saw the bruises that she had obtained that morning, when people had grabbed at her as she fell into them to get out of the pusher’s way.

“Who’s been beating you up?” He asked sharply. Pam had been forced into telling him all about it. He was very concerned that she might have been injured but when she put forward her theory that it had been deliberate, he just burst out laughing. “Oh Pam, that’s a good one.” He chuckled. “You’re always getting into one scrape or another!” He continued before finishing off with. “Isn’t that why you’re called Pam?”

She admitted that she did perhaps have one or two unfortunate mishaps in her past. Only to have Chas remind her of when she had been asked by their friend Lizzie to apply her new hair dye. When told to fetch it from the cupboard under the sink she had picked up the wrong box and Lizzie had ended up with her Nan’s blue rinse instead of the fiery shade of red that she had chosen. Pam had blushed at that one. She had simply forgotten that she didn’t have her lenses in and felt around for the right box and having recognised the logo used it, not realising that there had been two on the shelf. Lizzie’s Nan was to be the beneficiary of the buy one get one free offer. Instead, Lizzie had hit the roof and immediately used the other box on herself and come out a deep purple. A far more suitable colour for an aspiring artist; as Pam had been quick to point out.

Pam thought a moment more and agreed that perhaps she had been a bit hasty and that she would put it out of her mind and enjoy the rest of their meal. The several courses to follow had been delicious and Pam thought that Chas was turning out to be quite a nice person to have around. Maybe he was “The Keeper” her mother was always asking her if she’d met yet? Well, time would tell. In the meantime, it was the end of a lovely evening and time for the fun part. The plate smashing. After all, she couldn’t possibly get into trouble then. The waitress had brought the very tall stack of plates in and placed them on their table intending then to pass them out. Pam thought that she would be helpful and pass her a few at a time.

Before she knew it the whole pile had gone crashing to the floor. And Chas? Well, there he was splitting his sides laughing at her embarrassment. She had been trying to pick up the broken pieces of plates, when she somehow managed to slip and smash the only vaguely whole one left lying on the floor, by sitting on it. Chas and the other diners had laughed so much at the sight of her that they had ended up with tears running down their cheeks at her attempts to pick herself and the said remains up. When Chas suddenly blurted out to the whole room.

“Pamdemonium, you’ve done it again!”

“Oh no, did he have to make it worse?” She could have curled up and died. “Why? Oh why, does the floor never open up and swallow you whole when you need it too?” She wondered, from her sprawled position. The only silver lining she could see was that it proved one thing. Chas Mitcham was not “The Keeper”. If he could say something like that, he had to go! At least that would please someone. Her Dad had never taken to Chas.

All that was before, the hands of the kindly waiter with big brown eyes had come along and hauled her back up to her feet. Maybe, a handsome Greek waiter could be a contender for that now vacant role. Always assuming, she could manage to keep accident free until, after, the wedding ceremony could take place.