Homeward Bound

Homeward Bound Chapter 7

I slept badly but I had a lot of things on my mind. I had left mum in the living room and gone to bed, shutting the bedroom door to keep Tibbles out, even when she began to scratch on the door and wail out painfully. I expected mum to come in and demand I allowed the four-footed beast in but she didn't.

I lay there in that bedroom from hell thinking I would have to move out and take a room in the lamb hotel. There was stopping and there was going barking mad. I also realised I needed to be better hidden than I had been. I also now regretted filling Danielle on in my private life weeks before dad had been found dead.

I heard mum get up, she wasn't the most silent person in the world, bashing and crashing around in her attempt to let Tibbles out in the back garden. She put the radio on too, which pretty much told me that any form of sleeping would be out.

With that in mind, I sighed and got up, glad the curtains had survived on the string fixings. I still couldn't bring myself to take a shower with the vivid thoughts of dogs being washing in there. I had another wash and prayed that maybe I could get a room with a bath in it when I enquired later at the lamb.

I dressed, only swapping my underwear, as I couldn't bring myself to mess up anymore of my lovely handmade clothes. I wasn't sure I could even bring myself to wear my lovely expensive shoes either. I took another deep breath and went out to face another day.

Mum was in the kitchen, not dressed, as she was wearing her glamour fleece dressing gown with dreadful slippers, eating yet more rice cakes with what looked to be marmite on, something I'd never take to.

'Morning,' she sang out.

'Morning,' I grunted, going to find a bowl that she'd not used to feed the cat with, the cornflakes and the milk. I also rummaged around for a clean spoon.

'Would you like some coffee?' she asked me, pointing to her coffee pot that had something that could be described as filtered coffee, if you liked it really weak and left to stew, like you would for tea, getting cold.

'I think I'll do a tea,' I muttered out, going to the cupboard where the tea was kept and was almost bowled over by the stacks of herbal teas of most disgusting tastes.

'That's my collection for my friends,' she explained to me. 'They don't always have those teas where we go and drink.'

'Not the brown cow?' I teased her.

'Oh, the owner there has a totally different, very understanding to our needs, why don't we go there for lunch?'

'Why don't we have breakfast and make a few plans,' I shot back, thinking she really had to get her head around this or we'd meet ourselves coming backwards.

'I phoned those numbers and let them all know, some didn't see that bothered, but at least my two sisters said they would come to the funeral and some of his working colleagues.'

I said nothing, but thought a lot, like my two aunts were only making the effort for mum and to make sure he was dead. I ate my breakfast, stood up because the fucking cat had slipped onto the other dining chair and there was no way she was going to give it up without a fight.

'I also went through more of that paperwork and plied it up on the sofa,' she said, pointing to the sofa that now had piles of stuff back on it. 'Would you mind going through it for me?'

'Have you been through dad's clothing?' I asked her, now washing up my bowl, spoon and empty mug where I had endured a weak, stew answer to a coffee.

'Oh, dear, I can't bring myself to do that, anyway, I have to go to collect my medication. They've offered to deliver it, but my doctor has advised me to do a bit of walking.'