The Old Times- Roger Taylor

Part I

Spring half term, 1973

I was sitting on my sofa in my apartment, my book in my lap, when I hear the phone ring. I sigh and walk towards the ringing, picking up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Hello, dear."
Dad.
I could hear a big lump in his throat, something was really wrong.
"Dad? What's the matter?"
"Your mother.. She passed this morning."
I chewed on my bottom lip, lost in thought.
"Hello? Lucy?"
"Mhm"
"I know your relationship with your mother wasn't the best, but we would all appreciate it if you came to her funeral on Wednesday. Please do it. For us."
For us. Those words repeated in my head. I don't know why.
"Okay... I will."
"I'll speak to you later. I love you sweetie"
"I love you too" I replied, as I hung up the phone.
I hated my mother with my whole heart, she was nothing but selfish, stubborn and judgmental, but after all, she was my mother and gave me food and a home. I stared out the window, staring at the sun beaming through the clouds. More silence filled the air. Not like it was ever loud in my apartment anyway, I would only stay at a friend's house, not the other way around. I wasn't too fussed about having a boyfriend either.
I did work with a nice looking boy though, we worked in the library together and we managed to make work actually fun for each other. He was kind, funny, smart, good looking and single. He was called Milo, and I absolutely adored that name. It was so cute. Like a cat's name.
I then began to wonder how many people would actually go to this heartless woman's funeral, not many people came to mind to be honest. I only imagined family and about two friends that go, bored out of their mind.
But what really bugged me was how she died. They would have told me days before if she was ill, and she wasn't particularly old either. Well, at least I didn't think so.

It hasn't been the best start to the story but it will get better, I hope.
-K