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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1411840-How-long-shall-we-be-together
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by tipsy Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Family · #1411840
A sweet story about an elderly lady with a spooky twist
How long shall we be together?

“That man is never around when you need him. I bet he’s out in that darn potting shed of his again.” Martha muttered to herself scowling at her crossword puzzle “forever” She called out upon hearing footsteps in the hallway. “Eight letters got a T second. Any ideas dear?”
“I  have no idea .”  Replied Sophie as she poked her head round the living room door. “How are you doing mum?” She added a concerned frown creasing her brow.
“Oh it’s you dear.” Martha laid her pen down and reaching for her cane added “I’ll pop the kettle on.” Sophie noticed the trembling of the hand as it reached to clasp the pale grey handle of cane, and a slight wince as her mother eased herself up.
“Its’ ok I’m sure it’s my turn to make the tea.” She hurriedly interjected. Her head disappeared as she strode into the kitchen before the inevitable argument ensued. Martha sunk gratefully back into her seat but called out.
“Well if you insist dear but try not to make it too weak like you did last time.” Then added as an afterthought. “and if you see your Father out there tell him I could use his help here.” There was no reply from the kitchen beside the faint whistle of the kettle and the tinkling of a cup clattering to the floor. She always was clumsy mused Martha shaking her head. “That best not be my nice china” she added out loud. The head poked once more through the doorway a reassuring smile plastered onto the features. “Nothing broken mum, don’t you worry.” And then was gone again. She had becoming increasing worried about her Mother over the last coupe of weeks but didn’t know how to approach the issue. She was a stubborn woman at the best of times.
“I saw Ethel down at the market yesterday.” She noted casually setting the tray onto the highly polished little coffee table. It was about the only surface in the room not adorned with tiny ornaments.
“Good to hear she is up and about again after her little fall. How is she?” Right, time to swing plan A into action thought Sophie with some trepidation. Focussing her gaze on her teacup to avoid eye contact she began.
“She was telling me about her new apartment. Just perfect for her she said, easy to keep clean and tidy.”
“Well no sense in her rattling round that big old house on her own I guess.” Came the approving reply.
“Absolutely and of course she knows now there is help at hand if she falls again. Close community and they can call down to the reception if they need assistance. It must have really put her families mind at ease.”
“Oh its one of those places.” A sour pursing of the lips accompanied the sentiment. “Well, I suppose if she needs to be in a home..”
“Its not a home as such.” Sophie hurried to clarify. “It’s just that there is support staff there if needed. I think it’s a really good idea.”
“Well yes, I suppose if she’s struggling to take care of herself.” Martha conceded in a tone that suggested the conversation was at an end. Sophie was aware it had been a long shot, she should really have known better but was dreading trying a more direct approach.
“Mum..” She began
“Hmmm?” The sharp eyes looked up fully catching her gaze for the first time, challenging her to continue. As though reading her thoughts she slowly added. “I count my blessings that I don’t have to give up the home that Frank and I worked so hard for.” Her gaze didn’t stray for a moment. The same hawk eyes that had always known when Sophie had been misbehaving as a child. Taking a deep breath Sophie slowly and deliberately laid the cup on the tray.
“Mum I’m worried about you.”
“well I’m fine” Was the curt response, the gaze finally broken. Martha shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Are you going to help me with this crossword or not.”
“Mum.” Martha jumped, startled at the firmness in the voice. For a rare moment she seemed truly vulnerable and small. A frail old lady stripped of her defiance against the passing of time.
“mum,” this time softer. “You can’t look after this place alone, when did you last manage to vacuum, and have you seen how overgrown the lawn is getting.”  Martha shifted uneasily.
“Admittedly a few chores have got behind. Frank isn’t quite up to helping out as much as he used to be but we can manage.” A pained look pinched at Sophies face. For what seemed like a very long time she didn’t know what to say. The clock on the mantle sliced away at the seconds as her mind raced for the right words.
“Dad isn’t here.” The words were barely more than a whisper as though unwilling to pass her lips.
“Well no, not right now dear but I don’t see how that’s important. He has always been one for wandering off just when I need him but he always made sure I was safe.”
“he’s not coming back.” She blurted before the courage to speak passed. Sophie didn’t know what reaction she had expected from this. The words had to her felt as though they dropped like lead into the silence. She knew though that she hadn’t expected laughter.
“And where do you think that old codger would get off to without me. He can barely put a jumper on right way in without me to keep an eye on him.” The expression in response to this caused Martha to be the one that looked concerned. “Don’t you worry about me and Frank dear, ok?”
Sophie, with more than a little effort pulled all her resolve together.
“He is dead mum, he’s not coming back. Please I need you to understand that.”
Martha smiled.
It was an affectionate grin that seemed to stem from a place of complete calm.
“Well of course I know that dear.” She replied, as though it was the most normal thing in the world “It’s him that seems to be having trouble with the idea.” Sophie’s mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. After a moment or so of this fish impression she managed to exclaim.
“what?”
“I’m sure its not easy to understand but he quite simply hasn’t gone anywhere. I was a little surprised at first myself but then  I guess it made sense.” Taking in the look of disbelief she added “Don’t worry too much about it. I’m quite all right.”
“I should get going, I promised to clear out a bit in the spare room.” She needed time to take in this new twist.
“You do that dear.” Replied Martha, understanding completely, politely she reverted her gaze to the crossword to allow Sophie to gather herself a little.
Standing in the hallway Sophie paused. One hand was rested on her jacked midway through lifting it from its hook. How could she possibly convince her mother this wasn’t real. A tear formed in the corner of her eye, memories of her Father drifting across her mind. They were so clear and for a moment she felt sure she could smell his pipe. A chill slowly ran along her spine as though cold fingers were running across the skin. The sense that someone was standing right behind her was becoming gradually more pronounced.
“Dad?” She whispered. Her rational mind berated her for allowing it to get dragged into the fantasy. Although after wards she convinced herself that the voice was nothing more than an echo in her mind she could have sworn at that moment she heard the gruff familiar tones.
“I’ll have a word with her about those flats shortcake. You know how stubborn she is at times but it’s a good idea. Don’t you worry.” A trembling hand finally lifted the jacket and with more than a little fumbling slipped it on. Shaken as she was, she felt certain that everything was going to be all right.
As she opened the door she heard a voice. This time that of her mother drifting out from the living room.
“Oh of course darling why didn’t I think of that? I don’t know how I’d complete these things without you.”
Martha leaned forward and carefully filled in the final word of her puzzle
Eternity.          

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