Sophie’s departure had left little behind except a quiet, empty house – and a lonely childhood toy
By LYNDA FRANKLIN
It feels so weird,” Cathy said, staring out of the lounge window at the newly mown grass. It was slightly brown in patches where it had been so warm, but strangely neat and daisy-free. Freshly dug flower beds were spilling over with colour where Cathy had planted meticulously. The patio slabs were showing their shades of green and red once again after a dose of power washing, and the garden furniture was arranged in a perfect circle for once. Her tubs were blooming. The new solar lamps were in position and working as they should. It was all so perfect. It was definitely weird.
Ray looked up from his armchair.
“It’s quiet, if that’s what you mean.”
“Quiet equals weird in my book,” Cathy said, a niggle of irritation inside her. Why didn’t he feel the same? Couldn’t he see how weirdly silent and empty this day was? Surely he recognised this wasn’t normal. This wasn’t how their house usually felt.
“It’s bound to be quiet after the shenanigans over the weekend.” Ray put his paper down and smiled. “I don’t mind a bit of peace and quiet, personally.”
“Shenanigans? Is that what you call our daughter’s leaving party?”
“You know what I mean.”
Cathy sighed and turned back to look out of the window. Yes, she did know what he meant, but she didn’t want a peaceful day. She wanted Sophie to come crashing through the front door yelling that she was home. She wanted to see carrier bags stuffed with cheap clothes she’d probably end up taking back to the shop the following day. She wanted to hear music thudding from her bedroom and smell the remains of last night’s pizza that hadn’t been thrown out. She wanted loads of washing, an overflowing ironing basket and an untidy garden where Sophie had been entertaining her friends. She wanted everything back that used to be normal. Not this quiet. Not this weirdness. How would she ever get used to life without her only daughter?
“It went well, I thought.” Ray looked relaxed, long legs stretched out in front of him and favourite cushion behind him. “That’s the main thing.”
Was it? Was everything she’d planned to make Sophie’s departure easy something to be glad about?
“I can get in there and decorate now.”
“What?” Cathy felt her insides contract. “What do you mean?”
“Paint it. New wallpaper if you like. I don’t know – you decide.”
“I don’t want Sophie’s room decorated.”
“But you said it was disgusting.”
“When – when did I say that?”
“Last week.”
“I never said that.”
“I thought
