I got up at 5.30am. I smoked a joint first up, so it had plenty of time to wear off. I just didn’t want to be mindless and consequently, incommunicado when Roz picked me up. I had 5 hours to dry out.
LouLou woke up.
Sam got up.
I checked the online papers had to say on bush fires, nothing much.
Roz picked me up at 11am. Mark got up, as I was heading out to Roz’s car. This time Lottie was in the bed, really doing the death mask now. We both jumped a bit when we saw her. Roz entered moments before me, she thought Lottie was dead, momentarily.
It was the first time the nurse had ever asked if we had Lottie’s funeral arrangements up to date. The nurse said, “It can only be a matter of days.”
The nurses got us chairs. We said we didn’t think we’d stay, but we sat and chatted to Lottie automatically.
I told her that if she didn’t want to die alone, this was the greatest crowd she was now ever going to get, the two of us, this was her last chance to die with us holding her hand.
We chatted for ages, we thought we were funny, we were sure Lottie would have agreed. We listened to her breath in and out, when we ran out of things to say.
We took the only thing of Lottie’s that we wanted, a photo of her and Will taken five years ago, sitting on her bedside table. We decided we didn't want anything else.
“Where are you going to put that?” asked Roz, as we walked out to the car.
“I’m not going to keep it,” I said. “I’m going to scan it and then toss it. Just need the image."
I was home chatting, when the phone rang. As I got up, it crossed my mind… could it be mum? It was the nurse we’d spoken to earlier in the morning, Lottie had died a few moments before. I thanked her for calling. I remember thinking that I should thank her. It was roughly 14.15 Sunday 20th December 2015.
I told the nurse I would tell Roz. I told Roz that dad had died too, in the entrance way to The Royal Melbourne, over ten years ago now.
I told Mark and Luke and Sam. It was nice they were with me.
My next thought, as I puffed on a joint in the blazing heat cooking the back veranda, I’ve been pretty well ripped on both the days my parents died.
I called Roz, she was having a new band fitted to her watch.
Roz rang Will.
(Psychologically disturbed step son) Fen was, apparently raging, somewhere in the distance. Suddenly, back in our lives.
Mark had to go to the police station, to give them a head’s up, about what, I didn’t ask. Whatever it was, it probably wasn’t going to happen. He'd threatened to attack before, but never had, let’s face it. Dear Universe don’t let that happen, could you imagine?
The only thing I could think was, Trust Fen to spoil the day my mum died.
Oh, who cares. It would be too boring for words. Don’t say his name out loud. Don’t engage in it, I say. But of course, Mark is involved, he’s communicating with Mini, so he can see April. I told him he should cut all ties, just for the time being, and let the police solve the problem once and for all, that is Fen. He didn’t agree.
It got dark and a storm brewed ominously.
A storm was coming, said all the weather channels.
Sebastian and LouLou left for LouLou’s new place in Gisborne. A bare-walled unit from, all accounts. It will be sad to see her move from abject beauty, that house on Mount Macedon couldn’t be nicer, to abject poverty, a brick veneer strata unit in Gisborne. Oh, I do hope it is nice.
I’m going to give LouLou a ficus, if any of my cuttings grow, it looks like about 5 might.
We ate leftover chicken skewers and prosciutto wrapped mushrooms, which tasted like they had ricotta cheese in them, or something.
We watched the teev together.
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