Ladies who lunch
Monday, March 10th, 2008I had a phone call last week from N, the elderly jazz singer - and Penang native - who’s come to the bar a few times.
She asked me how I was and so forth, and then after a pause said:
“Andrea…”
“Yes?”
“I was wondering… Would you like to go out with me sometime?”
Bless! It was like being asked out on a date.
So this lunchtime, she came and picked me up from the hotel, and drove us to a little restaurant for lunch. I’d asked if she’d mind it if we had ‘Western food’ (the generic term used over here for any non-Asian/Indian cuisine) because, after five days, my stomach is still Not Quite Right. I’m blaming this.
The restaurant was like a French cafe - all dark wood and red chequered tablecloths. There were clearly a couple of birthdays going on upstairs, because twice, a pre-recorded version of ‘Happy Birthday’ started playing over the sound system. I told N that “that doesn’t happen in Britain” (a phrase which I’m saying a lot over here, I’m finding).
The restaurant do a set lunch with varying main courses, which meant that for £2.50 each we had soup, fish with almonds and vegetables, a small creme caramel-style dessert made from coconut milk, and coffee. Or in my case, tea. This is almost, but not quite, as good as the vegetarian dinner for two that V and I enjoyed, for £1.50. Between us.
The food was a bit school dinner-ish, but it was fun to see the place and to spend some time with N, who I would guess is in her mid 70s now but still ridiculously glamorous, with her dyed black hair, painted eyebrows and funky glasses. She was wearing a lovely white blouse and linen trousers, accessorised with red shoes and a red bag (and red painted lips). In fact, as we stepped out of the car, I noticed that we were sporting exactly the same colour scheme, only in reverse:
For truly, we are jazz sisters.
