370. Long distance calls

 'Hello? Helloooooo?'

...

'HELLO!'

A cool and collected, soft voice at the other end of whatever. She sounds just like her dad. I am instantly taken back all these years to the soft deep sexy voice that conquered my heart ...

'Mum?'

Oh. My daughter. My first child with that man with the soft sexy voice that won me over all these years back.

'French Polynesia?' I am shouting now, half to shake me off from that sweet useless memory, half because I am not sure if I can trust that new technology. I should be used to it by now though.

'Mum! Look at the phone and turn the volume and the camera on. No need to go through a telephone operator!'

Baby is getting impatient and takes control; within seconds Miss Organiser's face appears on the small screen and I appear in the bottom left-hand corner - tiny square for me the mum and a big rectangle for her the daughter. I really should comment about that.

'Mum?'

I try to focus on the conversation. 

'What are you eating?' I say, probably sounding disgusted.

'Just a bowl of cereals, I don't have much time. I thought I'd face-time you since it's your birthday.'

That's nice. I forget about being in the small square at the bottom and smile sweetly.

'Thanks.' I say. 'It's really nice of you. ... But should you really be having cereals for dinner? You promised you'd feed yourself properly.'

'Mum, it's 7 AM here! Anyway did you have a nice birthday?'

My husband goes on about the lotte à l'armoricaine he and I have cooked and the baba au rhum with Mano and pineapple granny made (my favourite dessert) and the Champagne and the foie gras and the presents and how nobody fought over who was to open the Champomy bottle. 

'It sounds almost like Christmas!' She says, I think a little envious.

'And we are eating outside.'

Baby grabs the phone and does a sweeping motion to show the blue sky, the green grass and the table set on the patio.

'Here too it is sunny.'

And then she takes her phone for a sweeping motion and shows us the deep blue of the ocean and the pale blue of the morning sky.

'Nice.' We have to admit.

Then Baby takes the phone and talks about some futile things which back in my days would have got you cut off the phone then passes it to her father for some really important questions and bits of advice that cannot wait.

Then she is back with me. She has just got a message saying some old friends of mine are trying to get in touch and is it spam. And no it isn't, there are my old friends from a time when your minutes on the phone were counted and when being on the other end of the world meant little communication.