Strawberry jam time Again, a song for Serbia

The sweet scent of cherry blossom wafted through the open window and Olivera sat up in bed and leaned across to look at her watch. She shook Dragan her husband and he stretched out  his arm to pull her towards him, his eyes still firmly closed.
Olivera kissed him gently on the lips and got out of bed.

'I'm so happy Dragan. Monika and Nikolett will be here soon, we're going to make strawberry jam.'

Dragan sat up  and looked at her.

'We've come home at last, it will be like old times.'

A shadow passed over Olivera's face.

'Well let's hope it's better than old times Dragan. Last time I made strawberry jam was over twenty years ago. A lot of water has gone under the bridge since then.
Do you remember how we used to have to queue for coffee and oil and then we'd be lucky if there was any left? All those shortages. Look at the supermarkets now! everything all wrapped up in little plastic boxes. There's more packaging than food.'

Dragan got out of bed and went to stand at the open window. His shoulders slumped and his voice took on a melancholy quality when he spoke.

' I remember the market under our block of flats when we first got married. At this time of year there were mountains of fresh juicy strawberries, plump red cherries and orange melons. They cost so little and we would go home laden with baskets full of fruit. You and my mother and little Nikolett

would have a jam making day. Then later on when the plums were ripe my father taught me how to make Slivovica. He told me to use the plums that the wasps settled on. He said wasps will only drink the juices of the healthy plums.'

There was a catch in his voice and Olivera went to put her arms round him.

'That Slivovica was certainly a way to drown your sorrows. I remember my grandfather putting it in oak barrels. He'd tell us that it would make everything alright. In the Winter months when the market had only cabbages, onions and potatoes to offer, the Slivovica and the strawberry jam brought the sunshine into our homes.'

Dragan turned round and smiled, visibly more relaxed.

'I feel hungry now. Fried potatoes, braised cabbage and sour cream all washed down with Plum brandy. That kept the cold away.'

As Olivera made the strong Turkish coffee that Dragan liked so much and put out the jars for the jam making session she looked at the calendar on the wall. May 4th 2015.
She tensed as she realised it was the day whenTito had passed on in 1980, changing their lives in ways none of them could have envisaged.

She had been twenty- seven and Dragan thirty and they already had two children, Nikolette and Mirko.
 Olivera had been just fifteen years old when her father had arranged her marriage to Dragan. She smiled as she remembered how frightened she'd been. She'd even run away twice but her father had caught her and taken her back. She knew she'd been one of the lucky ones. Dragan had a heart of gold and without him to protect her when the war clouds opened above their heads she dared not think what could have happened to her. All they had been through together had given them both a deep bond of trust and love.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Her daughter Nikolett with her husband Tomas came in and hugged her.

'Oh mama it's so lovely to have you home at last, I can't believe it.' She grinned to hide the tears that had appeared in her eyes.

'Monika will miss all the presents you always brought back from Italy, but hopefully we'll find them here too one day.'

Tomas went to look for Dragan who was busy in the garden.

'Come on in and we'll have coffee before starting on the jam making. I've got everything ready and hope I remember the recipe my grandmother taught me., I know there was about a kilo of strawberries, four cups of sugar and a the juice of half a lemon. Where is Monika?'

The door opened again and Monika came in. She had her head down and was tapping away on her new iPhone. Without a word she went to sit at the table and started taking photos of her new tattoo, holding her leg out and turning her ankle to the side to show off the rose that was climbing up her calf and the name Nikola written around it.

Olivera grinned at her daughter and gave her a wink.

'well let's hope Nikola stays around awhile,'

All she got was a withering glance from her granddaughter who held her hair back and pouted into her phone to take a selfie and send it to her boyfriend.

'When I was your age Monika I was already married to your grandfather and your mother was a baby.'

Monika shrugged her shoulders and pouted even more.

'What was it you wanted to do Grandma, I've got to meet my friends and we're going to a  rock concert in Novi Sad.'

'It won't take long Monika I've got everything ready. Off you go Nikolett and sit in the garden with that husband of yours.'

Olivera moved to the window to watch them in the garden. Her son-in-law had a limp and a nervous tick and her daughter told her that he still woke up in the night screaming. She turned back to her granddaughter who was sprawled out showing a great deal of thigh.

'It's so nice to be home for good now Monika I have missed you so much. Now let me show you how to sterilize the jars and prepare the fruit. I never did anything like this in Italy so it's new for me too.'

She started humming to herself and was surprised when Monika joined in. She stopped when she saw the way her grandmother was smiling at her.

'It's a song I learnt to play on dad's old accordion.'

Olivera popped a juicy red strawberry into Monika's mouth and kissed her on the cheek. After that it was easy. they worked together side by side. Oliver told Monika how important it was to sterilize and make sure no bacteria could get in. she showed her how to test the jam to make sure it was at setting point. She put a plate in the freezer and then put a small amount of jam on it, then she traced her finger gently threw the mixture to see if it left a mark.

'Once when I was a girl Monika I over boiled the jam and it set so hard that my grandma said she could use it as a weapon.'

Monika laughed and took lots of photos of the jam to send to her friends on her phone.

'When I first went away to Italy with grandpa I use to send you dolls and bicycles, later you wanted party dresses and blue jeans. I'm glad you like the phone.'

Monika put down her phone and went to hug her grandmother.

'Thank you grandma for all the lovely presents you've brought us. Dad and Mum say you and grandpa have made it possible for them to keep on living here and they say it's amazing how grandpa has learnt to build houses and do gardens.'

They looked out of the window together with their arms around each other. Nikolett turned and saw them and ran to the house.

?how's it going? Have you finished?'

Monika nodded towards the jars and then went to sprawl across the couch and fiddle with her phone. She gave a sideways glance to her grandmother and beamed at her.


That evening while they were getting ready for bed Olivera went to stand at the window and breathe in the warm spring air. She could smell the jasmine and lilac blossom and saw some fireflies darting about in the darkness.

'Dragan just think I won't ever have to clean someone else's toilet again. I'll miss lots of the people that I worked for and be grateful for their kindness but from now on we'll always feel at home.'

She leaned out of the window and saw the new moon.

'Come here Dragan and make a wish.'

Dragan went to stand beside her and whispered to the starlit sky.

' I wish that the only loud noises from Novi Sad will be rock music and that men like Tomas will find peace and you Olivera'.

She laughed and closed her eyes.
' I wish that girls like Monika will always be able to pout and fall in an out of love, sulk and sprawl, and I wish they will always make jam with their grandmothers to bring sunshine into the Winter.'

She closed the window and put out the light.

 

Apple blossom

Strawberry shortbread