Homeward Bound

Homeward Bound Chapter 3

I woke, slowly at first, then I got an uncanny feeling I was being watched. As I turned onto my back and gazed on what I thought would be the ceiling, I realised my eyes was focusing on the bloody cat, which was sat on my chest. I let out a shriek so loud the cat took fright into the window sill, knocking over god knows what that was in there and bringing the curtains down on top of me.

I lay there panting, from shock, when mum's head appeared in the open doorway, looking more put out that I had disturbed her beauty sleep than I'd been almost suffocated by the frigging cat.

'What on earth have you done?' she demanded, walking into the room and assaulting my vision with her flannel nightwear with frilly edge and slippers with bunnies grinning out at me.

'The... huh,' I stammered, suddenly realising she wouldn't believe me the cat tried to kill me. That cat could do no wrong in her eyes. 'The curtains fell down on top of me.'

'So I see,' she sighed out, reaching across the bed to grab Tibbles down from the window sill where she was wagging that bush like tail in an evil whip like way. 'Do you need to go out my darling.'

'No, I don't,' I snapped out, which had her looking at me with real alarm.

'I'm talking to the cat,' she remarked, turning to give me a terrible outline of her wrinkly old body through the fabric against the light coming in the now exposed window. 'Would you like some tea?'

'Yes, no, I'll go myself,' I replied, grumpily, but she was gone, holding the cat and talking to it like it was a child, which of course to her it was.

I climbed out of the curtains and staggered to my feet only to remember this bedroom over looked the front of the property and the local postman just got an eyeful of me in my string imitation silk night dress. He gave me a saucy grin and was on his way. My scandal dress would be hallway down the town before the morning was in full working order.

'Hate it,' I growled to myself, as I dug out my dressing gown, which matched the imitation silk number, fumbled for my nice fluffy heeled indoor shoes, and set about trying to get human with a drink.

Mum, minus Tibbles, was once again faffing around in the kitchen. It was so painful to watch her measuring enough water into the kettle and put it on to boil. I suppose this was due to the fact dad had been talked into going on a water metre to say money. To what I could make out it had just made them really stingy with the use of water.

'It's decaff,' she said to me while I stood there wishing why couldn't I be strong enough to say no to her and just go and stay with two lesbian ladies in their hotel.

'Great,' I replied, not caring as I heard the unspeakable sound of Tibbles in her dirty tray. Now if that cat decided to have a crap now I would throw. It had taken me the whole two weeks to get that thing to crap outside in what had been dad's prized dahlias.

'You don't mind my special milk now?' mum asked, taking my mind off the fact Tibbles was have a wee, which didn't smell that sweetly.

'Special milk?' I repeated, looking suspiciously at her as over the years she had had so many special diets, medications and creams to use, not that I am for once minute suggesting she was a hypochondriac

'Lactose free,' she beamed at me, now holding the carton to show me.

'Doctor's advice?' I quizzed her, nodding that I would accept anything just then.

'For my irritable bowel,' she offered, to add to her hernia, back issues, not talking about her shoulder issue when she knitted for days on end. 'You've got all this to look forward to.'