“Duty Visit” (Flash fiction competition)

This week’s entry into the weekly flash fiction competition was horribly, horribly rushed (I.E. I wrote it 2 hours prior to the deadline) and I expect to lose, but, I’ll post it all the same. Edit: I actually won this week with this, ha

Duty Visit

1000w

Cathy

The retirement complex has its own tiddly little bus, a single-decker that goes all about the houses. Half the other passengers already look dead. Garnet, who doesn’t give me a moment’s peace the entire way. Always her stomach aching or her phone not working.

I give her a clip around the ear, and she screeches. My face burns, people turn, people were staring with those awful, sunken, coffin-dodger eyes.

“People are looking!” Shut up, shut up! Why is she doing this to me, why does she make everything so hard? “Sit down! Sit down and be quiet, do you want them to throw you off the bus? Eh? Do you know how to walk home by yourself?”

The old man a couple rows behind, I can tell he’s fixing his disgusting rheumy eyes on me. He’s thinking, what a beast, what an awful mother. No idea, not a clue what I’ve been through. Every day the same, spittle and runny noses, cornflakes and school sandwiches and has the old bat ever offered help? Has she ever, spending all day gorging herself on cake, can’t even lift up the phone but to say to me, oh Cathy you’re doing it all wrong, that’s never how I was to you.

One more visit and I’d never have to look at her again.

Filthy tip of a place, disgusting that anybody lives here. All institutional redbrick and peeling pastel paint, the building looking about as decrepit as the half-ghouls that call these rooms their crypts.

The old cow is sat on it all, perched on what’s mine. She’ll tell me where it was, she’s give me what’s mine, what was always meant to be mine, what I deserve.

Thea

Somebody visiting. Come to ask for something, either money or time. Not that I have much of either. Not now, too tired, sendthem back. They never let me sleep, those girls. Always calling to complain about their awful lives and absent boyfriends.

“It’s your daughter, and granddaughter. I’ll just let them in for a moment, ok?” The nurse doesn’t wait for a reply, so in they come. Here comes Cathy, proud as punch, always righteous, forever strident. And in tow, little Garnet. Eyes red, head low.

It takes Cathy digging her fingers into the girl’s shoulder to bring out a sullen “Hello Granny”. Thinks that she’ll get more out of me by dragging her along in a cheap chequerboard frock. She looks like she dressed in the dark.

But ah, she’s animated now. She lifts my hand off the chair and squeezes it, I suppose the nurses think it affectionate, but her grip is strong and my fingers brittle. It won’t be long until you’re here too, girl. Your hands may have more lotion, but in time they’ll be parchment too.

I let my eyes lose focus. She was always like this, even at Garnet’s age. So many questions and ambitions. How she drove me to despair, her father to drink, her sisters to rage. Never satisfied with all that we gave to her, always grasping for unearned praise. I was too soft.

I know what she wants before she mentions it. She wants to know where I hid it, thinks that it’s her just reward, thinks that a few visits to me will mean I can forget the agony she put me through.

“You’re ruining that girl.”

That shuts her up. I make sure everybody in the lounge hears it. Silly old fool, they’ll think, doesn’t know how loud she’s talking.

“You’re ruining that girl and she’s going to end up just like you.”

That’s right, girl. You want to cry, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes, the glowing red in your cheeks. Just like you did every day as a brat, every time I told you “No”, every time I caught you stealing. Cry, let everybody here see what a pathetic little girl you are.

You want to know where my treasure is hidden? Well, you can’t. It’s mine, and that means I get to decide who gets it. You are a selfish girl who needs a cold, hard lesson in how the world works. It’s mine and will be mine until the day they pack me away from here in a coffin, and there is nothing you can do about it.

Garnet

Mummy keeps saying we have to go and visit Granny, which isn’t fair because we can only visit her on a Saturday and it’s been every Saturday for weeks and there’s nothing here and it smells and the bus always makes me feel sick, but I complained about it last week and Mummy got upset so I don’t complain about it anymore.

The other girls spend their weekends round each other’s houses. When I asked why we’re visiting her so much, Mummy said that I was a nasty girl who didn’t care about her poor old Granny. Granny doesn’t say much and scares me.
Granny and Mummy have just finished talking. I don’t understand what they’re talking about, there’s something in the old house that Mummy can’t find and she keeps asking if Granny knows where it is. I keep saying that if we asked my Aunties to help we’d be able to find something.

We’ve only just got here when Mummy grabs my arm and it’s too hard and it hurts and we’re walking too fast too fast and the nurse tries to hand me something but we’re already leaving and we’re already gone.
I don’t say anything on the bus, Mummy’s too cross and I know not to say anything when she’s cross.

I go to my room and wedge myself into the gap between my wardrobe and the wall. Mummy doesn’t know about my secret place, about my hidden door and my special treasure, about the loose wall behind the wardrobe or the special room. She’ll never know because it’s my secret, it’s mine, all mine, and will always be mine.