If only they hadn’t moved away…
But they had, and she wasn’t prepared to rattle around in this house on her own, feeling lonely. She had four kids, one grandchild, and another on the way, and she hardly saw any of them. It simply wouldn’t do. Which was why she had taken matters into her own hands and decided to be proactive, ratherthan sitting here feeling envious because all her friends had family living close by and she had no one.
Having sorted through the first few boxes, Beth took a break, and while she drank her mug of tea, she scrolled through the photos of the little terraced house in Picklewick and knew she was doing the right thing. She would be close enough to babysit Sammy or lend a hand when her daughters needed it, but not so close as to be living in anyone’s pocket. She would be independent, yet still part of the family.
It would be perfect.
‘Have you heard from Mum lately?’ Dulcie asked. She was wiping the counters down as Maisie entered the kitchen. The aroma of freshly made cottage pie hung in the air, and Walter’s tummy rumbled. It was nice not to have to cook for himself.
‘Not for a few days. Why?’ Maisie peered into the oven. ‘That looks yummy.’
‘I hope it tastes as good as it looks,’ Dulcie said. ‘Otto didn’t make this, I did.’
‘I’m sure it’ll be delicious. You always were a better cook than me.’
‘That’s because you had Mum to cook for you.’
‘I’m improving,’ Maisie replied, ‘But maybe I’ll ask Otto for some pointers.’
‘Best not, unless you want jus with this and jam with that,’ Walter chortled. ‘And I’m not referring to the kind of jam you can buy in the supermarket either. He was telling me about seaweed jam the other day. It sounded awful.’
Otto had also mentioned bourbon jam, which sounded much better. However, Walter didn’t feel inclined to put it on his toast in the morning. How his son came up with these strange food combinations was beyond him.
Dulcie had finished tidying the kitchen and was now checking her phone. ‘The last time I heard from Mum was nearly two weeks ago. It’s not like her to maintain radio silence. How about you?’
Maisie peered at her mobile. ‘About the same.’ Her eyes widened. ‘Do you think she’s okay?’
‘There’s one way to find out.’ Dulcie flicked a finger across the screen and waited for the call to be answered. ‘Mum? Thank goodness! Are you alright?’
Walter could hear a tinny voice emanating from the phone, but he couldn’t hear what Beth was saying, and neither did he want to. That woman was a damned nuisance.
After a couple of minutes the call ended, and Dulcie looked relieved. ‘She hasn’t rung because she’s busy.’
‘She could have messaged one of us,’ Maisie said.
‘Apparently she’s too busy for that, too.’
‘Why? What’s she doing?’
‘De-cluttering.’
Maisie frowned. ‘I hope she isn’t de-cluttering any ofmystuff.’
‘I thought you had fetched everything you wanted?’
‘I did, but there’s my old school reports and that project I did for art. Oh, and my cheerleading outfits.’
Dulcie laughed. ‘I’d forgotten you used to do cheerleading. I bet Mum didn’t keep any of them.’
‘I put them in the attic.’
‘They are probably still there, in that case. Mum hasn’t been up there for years. I used to have to get the Christmas decorations down for her.’
‘She won’t be needing those again,’ Maisie pointed out. ‘Not if she spends Christmas here, like she did last year.’
Walter pulled a face. Beth had stayed at the farm for a full two weeks.Andshe’d turned up again at Easter. That visit had been for a couple of weeks, as well. She had every right to be here, considering she was Dulcie’s mother, but Walter wished she wasn’t so argumentative. Whenever he was in the same room as her, they seemed to butt heads. She was worse than his pet sheep, Flossie. Flossie was a head-butter too, but considerably less prickly. Beth called it, ‘being forthright’, and ‘calling a spade a spade.’ Walter called it annoying.
She was a fine-looking woman though, with her good cheekbones and her clear blue eyes, and when he’d first met her, he’d thought she was easy on the eye. It was a pity she wasn’t equally as easy on the ear. Or his patience.
