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Time: One Sunday evening. Place: The Johnsons’ House.
Occasion: The first time young Pamela Johnson’s boy
friend, Jim Nelson, is invited home for supper.
It’s an occasion many a family faces partly with joy,
partly with misgiving, because it could become the
kind of day that all the people concerned will look
back upon with warm and loving remembrance….or cold,
sharp, agonizing pricks of embarrassment. But how to
toss the coin upon so many little things – minor
decisions, petty arguments – so it shall come down
heads instead of tails? Because all these little
things, welded together, will make or mar this
evening….
Let’s see how the Johnsons are planning to cope with the
situation.
Look at Dad there, smiling a gruff, kindly welcome to his
family table – but wearing his comfortable old
cardigan. Pam tried to talk him out of it: “What
ever will Jim think?” she said. But Dad was not so
easily wheedled. “An Englishman’s home,” said
he, “is where he can wear what he likes on a Sunday.
And Jim can think what he chooses.”
Surprisingly, Mum took Dad’s side. And she was right.
Likely as not, what Jim will think is: Ah, here’s a
home where a man can be himself.
He’ll look with relief and warm fellow-feeling at a man
who won’t be bossed by his womenfolk. And Dad
himself, though it may not seem so, will be carrying
his own little load of anxiety, like all of them, but
he’s wrapped in the comfortable security of what is
familiar.
Women, on the other hand, can meet a situation best when
their own self-confidence can whisper that they’re
looking nice. So Pamela and her mother wear their
favourite, newest frocks and admire each other with
reassuring, approving smiles.
Mrs. Johnson wonders privately why Pam has done her hair
that funny way, and Pamela wishes for a minute that
her mother had worn another lipstick. But both keep
silent on these tiny unimportant points, for this is a
time for confidence not criticism.
Look now at Jim….see him for a moment through Pamela’s
eyes. She’s glad he wore the dark suit she’d asked
him to. She was worried for a while that some strange
mood of masculine defiance (and, like Dad, he has
these moods!) would cause him to wear something else.
He’s paler, shyer, quieter, more nervous than
she’s ever known him. Pam wishes that he wouldn’t
keep on fiddling with his tie. But she knows the
reasons for his best-behaviour stiffness, so when
no-one’s looking she slips her cool hand in his and
whispers: “It’s all right, you know. Dad doesn’t
bite.”
And see the table – it tells a story too. With its bright,
newly ironed tablecloth and gay welcoming bowl of
flowers, it says that Mrs. Johnson knows of her
daughter’s desire for Jim to see that this house,
though it may be shabby with the wear of twenty years,
is a cherished home.
The knives and forks set for a simple meal tell that Mrs.
Johnson has over-ruled Pamela’s idea of having
“something exciting” – some unusual recipe,
new-tasting and exotic. And Mum is right because a
well-tried favourite is always safer than something
new which might go wrong. So Mrs. Johnson has cooked
her usual Sunday pie,* but made it seem special for
Pamela’s important day by adding just a touch of
something different – the flavour of tomatoes and
mushrooms and cheese.
For the evening itself, the Johnsons have made just a few,
not-too-difficult-to-alter plans. Supper is early,
because it’s across a table people can see and get
to know each other best, because the passing of plates
and the enjoying of good food relieves tension and
relaxes anxious nerves.
Pamela plans to turn the conversation somehow on to
football, because she knows the comradeship two men
can feel when they share a common interest. The
television set will remain switched off unless Dad
insists on seeing a favourite programme – then it
can go on just for that. For this is a time to talk
and get to know each other.
Mrs. Johnson looks back, and remembering long-ago
embarrassment, reminds herself not to bring out
old family snaps, or tell funny anecdotes of when
Pamela was just a little girl. She is plotting, too,
the best way to leave the youngsters alone for a while
without looking too obvious. “Dad and I will do the
washing up,” she tells herself, “and I’ll ask
Pam to mend the fire. Jim can get the coal for her,
it’ll give him something to do, a share in the
home….”
The great thing is for the whole occasion to be as natural
and normal as it can. This isn’t quite possible,
because each one of them has some worry which casts
its tiny shadow on the day. Mum asks herself if she really
likes this young man who may one day take Pamela away
for ever. Dad tries to convince himself that they’re
both too young to be serious. Jim thinks: I’m “on
approval” here tonight….
Pamela watches, wondering: Do they like him? Does he like
them? She wants her family and Jim to see each other
through the same rose-tinted mists of love and loyalty
that she does. She wants the family to realize that
Jim is not just the shy awkward boy he may seem to
them, but the handsome hero he is to her.
But somewhere through the evening Pamela will
realize that it isn’t so important any longer that
they should all like each other and approve – the
important thing is that, because they love her,
each of the others, in his or her own way is making a
special effort….and good is bound to come of that.
*Mrs. Johnson’s Special Sunday Pie
Ingredients: 1lb.
cold minced meat, ½ pint well flavoured gravy, 1
teaspoon tomato paste purée, 1 peeled and finely
chopped onion, 3 sliced tomatoes, ¼ lb. peeled and
sliced mushrooms, 1 oz. dripping, salt and pepper, 1
lb. creamed potatoes, 2 oz. grated cheese, sprinkling
of parsley sprigs.
Method: Mix
minced meat with gravy and tomato paste and spread in
bottom of large pie dish. Toss the prepared onion,
tomatoes and mushrooms in melted fat over a gentle
heat, stirring all the time, until they are just soft.
Spread mixture over meat in pie dish, sprinkle with
salt and pepper. Top pie with creamed potatoes. Put in
hot oven (400 degrees F.) for about 20 minutes to heat
through. Sprinkle pie top with grated cheese and put
under grill until cheese is melted and golden brown.
Serve the pie garnished with the parsley sprigs.
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