Homeward Bound

Homeward Bound Chapter 2

'About time Cara!' was the first thing mum tutted not even bothering to help me with my cases as I struggled with hauling them up the steps, bashing my shins in the process. I didn't even bother to ask for help because I knew that I would get a rant on how she couldn't do anything because of her poor back. 'Dinner was on the table an hour ago! You know how I have to eat at certain times, it's what my doctor said'.

I internally groaned knowing full well that she must of left my food in the oven to dry out so much that one had to dump a gallon of gravy over it to make it at least a bit palatable. Don't even get me started on how the vegetables would be boiled to a soggy mess! As far back into my childhood I remembered having to have dinner at four o'clock in the afternoon, I mean it wasn't even the evening.

I entered the house as Tibbles the cat made her presence known. You could hardly see her face under all the fur but if you could look carefully you could see her pushed in face with an angry expression like she had ran into a wall and not won. Mum said that it was pure Burmese but all you ever saw was its thick bushy tail, which always annoyed me as she always brushed herself up against me. It was awful to have a tail shoved in your face when you were trying to talk.

Tibbles and I had a love hate relationship due to the one time I had to look after her and I only fed her once a day. Personally, I thought that the cat looked so much better after the fortnight that she spent with me than in a day that she spent with mum. I kept telling her that cats were not human and did not need to be fed three times a day, but as usual she never listened to me.

I followed her into the dining room come kitchen which was crammed full of nick knacks and items that she had bought and decided that she didn't like then tried to fob them of on me. I always ended up taking something home that I did not need or want. I had made several trips to the charity shop but it still seemed like her house was tip. Balls of wool were on the floor in a tangled mess that I knew was because Tibbles had got into them and she hadn't bothered to pick them up because of her back.

As she began to faff around the kitchen getting my dinner out the oven I asked, 'How is the funeral plan coming on?' Noticing that she had aged about fifty years since I had last seen her and now was supporting an impressive amount of weight. No wonder that she had back problems.

She placed my dinner in front of me that looked as appetising as dishwater before confessing, 'I haven't started on the funeral at all, I don't know how these things work.'

'So, you haven't even met with the vicar?' I sighed, knowing full well that she hadn't. As always, she left things to the last minute or roped me into doing it for her. I still remember the time that she made me sort out her laptop that she had managed to freeze while shopping for a new lamp which I thought was hideous anyway and didn't even look right in the living room.

'Oh no!' she cried out, as I began to chew on the under describable meal in front of me after smothering it to death with gravy, grimacing when mum turned to pet the cat which was weaving in between our legs like it was hoping for titbits. I would have fed it my meal if my mum wouldn't have noticed not that it needed it.

'He's gay you know. A gay vicar I'm telling you!'

'Mother! You can't say that about people, they can't help it if they are attracted to the same gender,' I reprimanded her.

Mum had a way of showing me up in public by asking insensitive questions to people who she thought were different. I however found this extremely embarrassing.

'Well it's true,' she retorted.

Exasperated with her, I decided that it was best to move the conversation away from gay vicars and the like.