Mother Part 1

Sue waddled fussily down the hallway. Brian had leapt at the front door slam.
That bloody car on our driveway, blustered Sue. Yep..noticed it love, he said.
She glowered at him. The fridge hummed. Brian shrugged.
Well that’s okay then,she spat.
Sue stalked towards the table. The dog’s claws tapped frantically on the lino as it sought to avoid her. Its paws were heavily muddied. Brian sat down at the table and sighed. He poured two mugs of tea from the white porcelain pot.
You bet it's that sod from across the road, muttered Sue.
Brian nodded and pursed his lips to the heat.
I found this on the windscreen love, he said.
And he passed a note to his wife. She held the creased paper in her manly hands.
Gone this morning, sods this morning, chuntered Sue.
Brian scratched at his pate and looked out of the kitchen window to a thickly grassed hill frosted in morning dew. The radio announced the promise of sunshine in keeping with the fine weather of previous days. Sue rose suddenly and walked towards the cupboard under the stairs. Then she reached inside for her mud and salt stained wellies. Her heavy breasts swayed as she squeezed her feet into the tight rubber. Two impatient stamps and she strode towards the front door. Boz appeared at the kitchen door ears pricked and barked happily. Sue slammed the door behind her.

It was a lovely morning. The warm air resounded to the soft cooing of wood pigeons and the raucous cawing of crows. An apple tree sat in a lush lawn fruit hanging heavily to a backdrop of hedgerow. Sue scowled at the mud splattered black Audi. It sat impassively on the driveway. She had seen a similar car across the road at Peter's recently. Brian's beaten up mobility scooter lay slumped near the gate. Sue glared at the scooter and wondered when Brian would sort it out and checked herself because she knew her husband felt silly when he drove it. Her eyes softened at the thought of Brian’s ponderous yawing walk.

Sue paused at the gateway. The narrow mud stained lane hemmed by heavy hedgerow curved gently into the distance. A tractor started up in a nearby field. She turned left and walked towards an entrance on the other side.

Sue’s wellies crunched on the gravel path. A red van occupied most of the small driveway. There were thick splurges of mud streaking away from the wheel arches. It was pebble dashed in bird droppings. She wafted her hand angrily at a teeming cloud of midges.

The white bungalow walls were greyed with grime. Paint was peeling from its sickly pea green front door. Sue’s lumpy shadow shifted on the filthy wall. A belligerent looking seagull with hooded eyes stamped at the ground tricking for worms. The air was a heady mix of cut grass and manure. Sue rapped on the door. Her knuckles smarted as she strode down the side of the house.

The kitchen window was filthy and flecked with flies. The sink was full of greasy water and submerged dishes. No worktop seemed to be clear from the chaotic mess of manky kitchenware.

Sue could see into the living room through the partially open door. Two armchairs were occupied. The bare ceiling light was still burning. And the dark brown curtains were drawn. A pair of denim legs were visible. Beyond that was Peter. His head was turned away towards the curtains to his right.

Sue tapped tentatively and placed her ear close to the pane. All quiet. The warm air was stifling. Her forehead became beaded with sweat. It was so quiet. Sue's breath steamed the glass as she thumped it with the heel of her fist and shouted Peter’s name shrilly. They seemed to be sleeping. But she knew. Sue knew they were dead.