Parcel for you....Part 8

 

The doorbell rang briskly, the sound of it unique, unmistakable. Vanessa felt her heart drop. Shit, she thought, that’s my mother, as her cheeks flamed and her strength left her body. She stood up, scraping her chair across the floor.

 

Spencer noticed her reaction and he leant forward, looking confused. They had been sitting together at the kitchen table, listening to a radio programme about the domestication of water buffalo.

 

‘I need you to go into the toilet for a minute,’ she said, clutching onto his shoulders.

 

‘I like this programme though.’

 

‘I know but you need to go into the toilet now.’

 

‘I don’t need to do that, not yet. I’m not ready.’

 

‘I know but, I just mean the toilet room, the downstairs bathroom, please, I just need you to wait in there for a while. It’s to keep you safe!’ she ushered him along and sat him down on the loo. ‘I’m just going to change your settings, it’s only temporary.’

 

Vanessa was flustered, she hastily put her hand behind his back, found the button and pushed the arrows down somewhere into the more passive settings. She glanced in the mirror, her cheeks were still flushed and the more she tried to cool her face down, the hotter it became.

 

The doorbell sounded again and she heard her mother’s heeled shoes clomping up close to the front door as she shuffled to the window to look inside. ‘Sorry,’ she said, panting as she opened the front door.

 

‘God, I saw your car parked out there and I was worried. I thought you’d been murdered, Vanessa!’

 

‘What? Don’t be silly, mum.’

 

‘Well, I was waiting for ten minutes,’ she said, shoving her way through the doorway.

 

‘It wasn’t ten minutes, it was less than two! I was just in a very stressful teleconference with my boss.’

 

‘Oh you look all red in the cheeks. Are you having a hot flush? Have you been sacked?’

 

‘No, I haven’t…been sacked.’

 

‘So,’ June took off her coat and hung it on the hook, ‘I’ve just been to the chiropodist and I thought I’d pop in and see if you’re alright. She said my toes are clawing and that’s why the skin on top has gone all hard. She’s ever so nice, a really lovely lady, she’s West Indian.’ 

 

‘Clawing?’

 

‘Yes. Where’s Charlie, has he left home?’

 

Vanessa paused and scowled as she followed her mother into the kitchen. ‘No, he’s just been going out a lot recently.’

 

‘I was just speaking to the Chinese man in the shop, he said I should get some reflexology flip-flops for my feet, for the circulation.’ June threw off her scarf, placed it on the back of the chair and sat at the kitchen table. She paused, looking puzzled as she began sniffing the air. ‘Smells funny in here, Vanessa, sort of waxy. Have you had a man round to do something in the house?’

 

Vanessa shook her head and turned away towards the cupboards. ‘No, not lately. Tea? I can’t stop for long, we’re very busy at the moment..at work I mean.’

 

‘Okay, love. Your dad used to have terrible waxy marks on his shirt collars. Do you remember that, Vanessa?’

 

‘Yes. Are you alright with normal tea?’

 

‘I like your teapot, is that new? You do have nice things don’t you, ever such a lot of nice things. Have you heard from Annie?'

 

‘Yes, she’s coming back in a few weeks. I think she’s had a lovely time and met some very interesting people.’

 

June rolled her eyes and said, ‘Counting bats.’ 

 

‘She’s doing important conservation work, mum.’

 

Vanessa sat down. As she stirred the tea, a faint sound came from the loo, a sort of scrape. She coughed and adjusted her chair, then she raised her voice to try to muffle out the possibility of her mother hearing any more suspicious noises. ‘So, how’s everything going with the volunteering?’

 

‘Oh you know, lots of strong characters, muscling in, trying to take over. A new lady’s just joined, she used to be a manager somewhere or other, she thinks she can tell us all what to do. It’s all about power with these people, they’re power mad. I go there for a bit of company but it’s so stressful. The woman who’s really in charge of the cafe, she’s from Poland…’

 

 

‘You don’t have to tell me everybody’s nationality, mum!’

 

‘Oh,’ June looked annoyed, ‘sorry, I didn’t realise I was. It’s just part of the story. We live in a very multicultural society and I think it’s good…for the most part.’

 

‘I didn’t offer you a biscuit,’ Vanessa got up and began to put some chocolate fingers onto a small plate.

 

‘Do you know that red car has been parked outside my house for four out of the past seven days.’

 

‘What red car?’

 

‘The one that keeps parking there!’ June’s eyes lingered over her daughter’s hand and she made a sudden grab for it, gripping the ends of her fingers. ‘What’s this, a wedding ring?’

 

Vanessa laughed nervously and tried to reclaim her hand but June’s grip was firm. ‘Oh, it’s just a bit of fun, fashion jewellery.’

 

June looked her daughter hard in the eyes. ‘Are you sure? I didn’t think being married was fashionable anymore...or fun. It looks like a statement to me.’

 

Vanessa sighed and quickly concocted a story. ‘Well, actually there’s this man who lives around the corner who keeps trying to chat me up. He followed me home yesterday and I just want to send him a strong message.’

 

‘I told you!’

 

‘Told me what?’

 

‘I told you you’d been murdered! You need to be careful, Vanessa, living on your own.’

 

‘You live on your own, mum.’

 

‘No-one wants me. I’m old, my feet have turned into claws. Although…there’s an Irishman who stands at the bus stop with me and he’s always very chatty, well they all are, aren’t they. Anyway, his wife died, it was a terrible thing. Do you know, that ring suits you, maybe you should get married again.’

 

‘I don’t think so mum, not to a real man anyway.’

 

‘A real man? You don’t get many of those to the pound. I don’t wear any rings these days. Look, my hands are so dry, you don’t have any hand cream I could use, do you?’

 

‘Erm, yes. I’ve got some by my bed, I’ll just get it for you but I really must get back to work in a minute. I can give you a lift home if you like,’ Vanessa hurried up stairs to her room but just as she opened her bedside drawer she heard a blood curdling scream from downstairs.