watched her big sister shrug and shift uncomfortably in her chair. ‘I don’t think I’ll be keeping my blog. I don’t think it’s really for me,’ Amanda replied.
Sabrina couldn’t help but tut. Amanda had only started her blog ‘Mangia’ a couple of months ago, if that. It was beautifully designed, elegant meets rustic, homey and perfectly Italian. The posts Amanda had shared thus far had been great, but where her big sister aced nearly everything she set her mind to, the wonderful world of social media seemed to have her beat.
‘What did I tell you last week?’ Sabrina said, with a shake of her head. ‘It’s going to take time.’ She looked at Amanda and smirked. ‘And patience. Try acquiring some if you want it to succeed. It takes people months and years to build up blogs and social media; it doesn’t just happen overnight.’ Sabrina put extra emphasis on her last words.
It had taken her a good year to build her followers and show Lydia she had what it took to get likes and create a buzz. She didn’t care too much for this new popularity contest, but she also couldn’t argue with it either. Social media accounted for so much in her line of work and these days it could open doors of endless opportunity for people. ‘Keep working on it and putting yourself out there and it will happen.’
‘I am working on it, but it takes up so much time and sometimes I cook and forget to take pictures, or I’ve already taken a bite and ruin the shot. And I don’t understand all these SEOs and why people haven’t been commenting. I know the recipes are good, so why don’t people like them?’ Amanda moaned, took a sip of water and shrugged again.
Though listening to Amanda was frustrating, Sabrina could understand that it seemed the blog was messing with her sister’s confidence.
‘First off, stop whining. I just told you it will all take time and secondly, I understand you are busy and you like to eat what you bake, but you will figure it out if you want it to work,’ Sabrina said, trying to have an air of sympathy in her voice but failing. Her eyes stung from the jet lag now and she didn’t want to keep discussing the perils of social media. It could be rather draining trying to comprehend it all and she knew once Amanda figured it out, people would adore her blog. Amanda just had that charm about her.
‘I have to agree with Brina on that one. If you love what you are putting out into the world, which we know you do, and you want to share your recipes with everyone, just have fun with them. Don’t worry about those comments, Amanda – just do it for you. Don’t sit there thinking it’s going to happen over night, Ms Perfect,’ Louisa chimed in, chancing a sideways glance at Sabrina.
Sabrina offered a small smile, not wanting to stay mad at her baby sister for long. Louisa enjoyed social media and often shared her unique fashion sense with the world. Her pictures were creative, full of colour, and Sabrina hoped that the more her little sister’s followers grew, the more confidence it would give her to pursue her fashion dreams once more.
‘All right, all right, you two, no need to be so harsh. I get it,’ Amanda said, with just a small hint of irritation in her tone. ‘I’ll make you both a copy of the book if you’d like?’ she added, changing the subject and turning back around to face the TV. ‘Now, please, you are distracting me from Chris Evans.’
Louisa who had continued looking through the book, while imparting her sparing words of wisdom, placed the book carefully on the coffee table. Sabrina threw a pillow at Amanda’s head before she passed around the bowl of Cantuccini as they settled back down to finish the movie.
Just as Chris Evans and Anna Faris stripped off and jumped into the harbour, the phone rang with a shrill noise and Amanda reached out to grab it from the coffee table.
‘Hello, hey, Mum. How are you?’ she said cheerfully through snorts, putting the phone on speaker so they could all hear.
‘Are you girls free to come over?’ Her voice was low and shaky. Amanda shot up to her feet, her sisters following suit. This was far from their mum’s usual cheery hello. She always sounded so full of life, checking in on them when they were together. It made her happy knowing her girls were safe under one roof. She loved hearing them laughing with each other. But something was off and it unnerved Sabrina. The wave of anxiety that washed over her meant there was no time for questions.
‘We’ll be there as soon as we can, Mum,’ said Amanda.
‘Love you,’ they said in unison.
Grandpa’s Pastina
Ingredients:
Orzo pasta, or any baby pasta (Judge amount based on how many people you are cooking for)
Celery
Onions
Peeled fresh tomatoes
Dialbrodo (Or any vegetable stock/broth, though this is the best)
Pepper
Olive oil
What to do:
Bring water to boil in pan. Add a drop of olive oil.
Add the celery, onion, tomato and stock. Let them boil together before adding the pasta.
Cook the pasta as packet suggests and add pepper to taste.
Louisa often saw the world through a rainbow of colour, always seeing the light in each day. Now as she raced through the front door of their grandparents’ house, a coldness coursed through her bones causing all colours to vanish. Her world appeared dark and fear overcame her. It was as though everything had come to a crashing halt.
‘Mum, what’s wrong?’ Louisa said. Fear made her breathing ragged and she was gasping from sprinting.
‘It’s Grandpa,’ Mum said, so faintly Louisa felt as though her heart stopped beating for a second. She buried her head in her hands. She willed her mum to say he was poorly, to tell her that the doctors were on their way and that Grandpa was just having a rough night, but her stomach twisted, and she immediately felt faint. The piercing pain in her chest already told her the words that were coming next, the magnitude of the impact they would have on her life causing her knees to go weak.
She felt her mum’s arms wrap round her, followed by her dad and her sisters, who had rushed in behind her. ‘He’s gone,’ Mum continued.
Louisa felt her body go limp, her legs unable to stay strong. She collapsed in a heap on the floor. ‘No, no, please, no, Mamma. He’s OK, I’ll go wake him up – he’ll be fine.’ Her body shook violently; tears gushed down her cheeks. She was screaming, and she didn’t know how to stop. ‘He can’t be gone, I need to speak to him.’ She felt her mum kneel beside her but couldn’t bring herself to uncurl from the fetal position in which she lay to look at her. She couldn’t control her tears; her jumper sleeves were wet through. ‘I’m sorry, Mum, I’m so sorry.’
Silence engulfed the room. Nothing could be heard except harsh intakes of breath and the muffled crying as tears flooded each face.
‘What are you saying sorry for, sweetheart? It’s OK,’ Mum
