The Day After

Tonight I have been giving MasterB some well deserved attention. He had been shut up in das Boot the whole long sunny day. The marina, empty when I left this morning (doctor’s certificate, registering Mother’s death, get her bank account frozen, seeing aunt, liaising with the boys and the undertaker) was buzzy. Among the faces, I saw a lovely couple who have boat that is a bit of a project. I waved, but their heads were down and they were working. MasterB was happy to be cuddled and interested in the activity beyond our gunwale, but not tempted to venture out. I needed to get some more drinking water and went over to the tap, waving agin at the couple. This time they waved back and smiled. I walked over. How are you? She asked. Pretty shit, I said. Mother died yesterday. Bless her, she climbed straight off the boat and gave me a hug. He stayed working but listening. I’m sorry about your mother he said. Thanks, I answered, and suddenly remembered he had met her. You tried to persuade her to drink neat gin a few years ago I said. His face split into a grin. That’s right, he said. It was in the marquee. I think I wrote about it, but it would have been on MyT, so perhaps I shall look it out when I am back in London with a more reliable connection. They left the marina taking some of my washing with them. It’s not quite the transformation scene in Cinderella, but yes, I shall have clean underwear for the weekend thanks to some very kind and generous people. They will be working on their boat tomorrow when I am collecting some of Mother’s things from the home and talking to the undertaker again. Continue reading