Jenny once described her mum as ‘the living warrior, armed with lemon-scented cleaning sprays’. It was true, because Dot’s house always smelled fruity and was absolutely spotless. Jenny had inherited most of this need for keeping things spick and span and making sure everything was always ‘in its right place’.[…]
Julie gently nudges the clock to the left and glides the duster over the mantelpiece. The motion is slow and deliberate, as if by keeping her hands steady she can cradle the heaviness in her heart. Her husband’s Christmas card can now take centre stage. She lifts it from the[…]
Jill tries to avoid talking to herself but always allows private laugh-out-loud moments when there’s no one around. This morning, standing alone in her spare bedroom, arms heavily loaded with a huge pile of thick winter jumpers, she is chuckling. The task of emptying a large space in the wardrobe[…]
Tonight, I lied to my daughter. Not for the first time. Not for the last. Today, it was about her tooth. “Of course the Tooth Fairy will come and see you,” I said, looking straight at her. Then she asks about her mum. I want to give the same answer.[…]
Cutting the hot pies into five equal portions is the trickiest part of our little get-togethers. This month, it’s my turn to host, and I’ve made a pumpkin and coconut pie with a thin crusty topping. I love to try something new each time, which is not easy when you’ve[…]
I reach the café’s toilet door at the exact same moment as the lady who had smiled at me earlier. “After you, I’m in no hurry,” she chirps cheerfully. I nod and slip inside, feeling like I’ve just won a minor social lottery. And I immediately regret it. It looks[…]
Colin had forgotten he had a hankie in his pocket. It had a loose knot in one corner “Twist the edge and you won’t forget,” Grandad had instructed. Colin tried to recall why they’d had the conversation. He ran home to ask what it was he shouldn’t forget. “Honestly, John,[…]
Aesop sits motionless at the vineyard’s edge which clings precariously to the bleached hillside. His dark blue eyes are fixed on the nearest gnarled branch. Shallow thoughts, whirling around his head like lazy butterflies, reflect his confusion. Aesop is not a happy man. The great storyteller is unable to create[…]
The estate agent breezes through my mum’s house with more than an air of confidence and an exaggerated false enthusiasm. She pulls back curtains, closes cupboards and busily films all the internal rooms, undoubtedly trying to make them look larger and far grander than they actually are. I follow her[…]
Every morning, she is there, sitting on the old, rusting clifftop bench, staring out at the ocean. I always greet her as I pass by, but I don’t think she ever notices me. Today, as I make my way down the track, I notice that ‘her bench’ is empty. I[…]