by Rachel Holden

Created on: September 24, 2010

Where is she now?

1pm, Sunday afternoon again. The sky is bright blue and cheerful. The birds chatter amongst themselves and trees rustle in the light breeze. A more or less picturesque day, like something out of a short stay advert for a hotel, ‘come stay with us for the weekend’, ‘families welcome’, that sort of thing.  I lock the car up, stalling wherever I can, trying to shield myself from what is coming next. This is my routine, my Sunday afternoon routine. All sounds very mellow-dramatic doesn’t it? I push my keys into my over filled handbag and drop my finished cigarette onto the floor and scrape my foot over it. I take a deep breath, blow out my cheeks and start to walk slowly but with purpose to my destination.

I arrive at the big double glass fronted doors and buzzer entry system. I press the button and feel my mouth go dry. I hate talking into these things, it’s like leaving answering machine messages, I can’t stand those either. Looks like it’s my lucky day, one of the staff sees me before I have to make a fool out of myself talking into a wall. She lets me in and does that half head tilt smile thing. You know the one, it’s when people feel terribly sorry for you but don’t really know what to say, so instead they give you the obligatory head tilt and smile. I do that ridiculous smile where you pull your bottom lip and chin right up but don’t actually open your mouth. I go over to the table and sign the big visitor’s book. Time in 1pm, same as always. I put the pen down and unbutton my coat fiddling about with the zip on my handbag straighten myself and push open the next set of big heavy double doors. The smell of school dinners and must fills my nose. I swallow a gag and mask it with a cough. More complimentary head tilts come my way as I make my way down the first big corridor. Again I reciprocate with that idiotic smile thing I do.

I reach her room, number 23. It’s slightly ajar as always. Another deep breath and in I go. She’s sitting in her big arm chair dressed in her Sunday outfit, the blue floral dress. Christ I remember that dress. It’s a hideous dress I don’t even think she ever liked it much to begin with. God she’d kill me if she knew she was sitting here wearing such an awful outfit. The TV is on in the background, bargain hunt or something, some crap daytime TV only suitable for the 65 and over’s. I sit down on the hard

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>