‘Where’s Ted? My Ted. He said he’d be over later.’ She carried on the charade. ‘Am I coming home this week? I can’t wait,’ she spat. Then she cried loud indulgent tears of self-pity.

‘Soon,’ I lied.

She’d never be coming back. My years of Madonna worship were over, killed off by her rancid breath. I’m a man who loves beauty and strength. This whinging ugly creature, hissing and spitting like a viperous rattlesnake, was repellent. This wasn’t my mother. She had long gone.

A wave of panic at being left on my own soon passed. I didn’t need this old crow to look out for me. As I stood up, it hit me that she never had. She’d hidden me away while she assuaged her own passions. Now it was payback time.

It took two nurses to restrain her as she screamed and sobbed. I smiled and walked away from my past without a backward glance. Mother would forget about me in a couple of hours. She always did.

59

Arthur

It was with renewed purpose that I prepared for my evening with Rebecca. It was time to move forward with my plans. I was thrilled she had phoned and asked me round. Dinner for two.

With vigour I prepared for our date. I popped to the florists and bought a rather sumptuous bouquet. Pink, red and white roses were a visual declaration of my intent. Rebecca wanted to talk; she had something to say. I was euphoric and counted down the minutes. I spent the final hour in my car across the road from her flat. It was one minute to eight when I got out and approached the front door.

‘Come in,’ she said. She looked so beautiful. Golden hair flowed loosely across her shoulders. She had listened to me when I insisted she grew it. She was even wearing the pale buttoned-up shirt; it wasn’t showy but exquisitely tailored. I had admired it the last time we’d gone out. Oh the perfection of it all. Rebecca was the new lady in my life and would replace my mother in every way.

Rebecca had prepared a cold pasta salad followed by cheese and biscuits. It wasn’t a spectacular choice of fare, rather bland, but I kept my mother’s old recipes under lock and key and would present these to my girlfriend in due course. One thing at a time.

We chatted about the weather, the upturn in the temperature, and we even toasted the onset of spring.

The phone rang for the first time at 8.20pm. It then rang again at 8.45pm and at 9.15pm. I checked my watch each time the noise broke the silence.

‘Aren’t you going to answer it?’ I suggested. ‘Someone seems very keen to talk to you.’ I smiled, calmly biting my lower lip against the irritation.