Day 17 in Quarantine and the weeks that follow

Mother is guarded like Mona Lisa in a museum
From behind the glass she shouts
Its like living in a mausoleum
And you are late, still not too old for a clout
Her bones are brittle and her body not so elastic
Outside the front door
On a fold up table of plastic
She collects hot meals and bits from the shops
Get me marmalade instead of jam
And a couple of juicy lamb chops
I need a bit of variety
Now you have cordoned me off from society
Don’t let that butcher give you scrappy meat
She said she fancied a nice bit of ham
He always was a bloody cheat
A bottle of rum, a walnut whip, a tin of spam
You know I had to cancel my coach trip
Oh and on Friday, some trout
Get castor oil for my hip
Don’t forget the prescription for my gout
Brenda sent me a message and said
There was no refund, Barry, the cheeky git
She always asks for white sliced bread,
Don’t get me any of your posh nonsense with seeds and grit
It tastes like cardboard and makes me shit
Actually get me a piece of hake
Oh and the light in the kitchen
And some of that nice Battenberg cake
Is on the blink it keeps flickering
She rings me late every night
She is even more demanding than ever
Always telling me she has had a fright
We never did get on
She said she would have preferred a son
And now I drive 20 miles each way
To protect her from the virus
And to make sure she doesn’t stray
All she does is complain about her arthritis
Dad is already 6 feet under
I miss him even now
He had a laugh as loud as thunder
And always stopped mum being a cow
I explain she is not in her prime
The government have new laws
Going out is considered a crime
But it is a lost cause
How this virus spreads is unclear
Best stay in your own protective shell
Unless you fancy a premature visit to heaven
Or in my Mothers case, hell

Part II

I am only halfway up the drive
And I see mum at the window
Shouting across the road at Clive
What a welcome, I sigh, it’s enough to make me cry
The master of commotion, always setting an argument in motion.
And the mistress of making my heart sink
Then I see the curtains, twitching at number Twenty Two
Oh no that’s Shelia, with a gob like a sewer
And a tongue as sharp and a skewer.
Mum, I made you a pie, it is still hot
Never mind a piece of pie, he needs a piece of my mind
I want my newspapers he’s two weeks behind
I paid in advance and I want my money back
The kids are not allowed out
I told him, give the regular boys the sack
There’re loads of kids willing to deliver for cash
They need it to buy their stash
Sorry Clive, I apologise, I’ll sort it with you later
Come on mum, get in and put on the radiator, it’s getting cold
Just for once do as you are told.
I got all the stuff on the list
It’s mayhem at the shops
I had to elbow an old man to get the last of the lamb chops
There are no loo rolls,
I need toilet paper, how hard did you try
You know with my piles, I need soft 4ply
I should bloody go myself, I’d soon show `em
Mum you have no clue, do you know how long we have to queue
Sudoko, I need to keep my mind in shape
You should too, you never were too clever at school.
Those teachers had me in all the time
Made me feel like you’d committed a crime
Silence, she looked me in the eye
Sorry my love, I just don’t think enough
It’s alright I’m off to work now, bye.
I’ll see you on Tuesday, next week, now mind how you keep
You have stuff in the freezer, remember the peas and those frozen chips, they’ll go well with the pie.
Mum, promise me you’ll behave
And she sees me off with a wave.

Part III

Despite us all feeling the worlds gone to shit
And destiny is racing her chariot towards a bottomless pit
The sun has come out from behind the COVID cloud
And so has mum playing the radio far too loud
Sitting on a deckchair in the front garden
And what is that she is wearing a neon pink cardigan?
From the end of the drive I have to shout and squint
Mum, I yell above the din, turn that bloody racket off
I` ve bought some of that nice Battemburg cake,
The one you like in the fancy tin
She stands up and starts to cough
Are you alright you look a bit peaky, she responds with a grin
And then I see it, the empty bottle of rum, cheeky
So now you are finally here, to see your old dear
Have you got my Sudoko book , I’ve been a bit bored
I came out here, to enjoy the sun, it might be my last bit of fun
There’s your Womans Weekly and an overdue book from the library
But you can have it, its not going back any time soon
Bloody hell mum, drinking its not even noon
I’ve decided to pickle myself in booze what have I got left to loose.And when this is all over I`m going on a cruise.
I talked to Brenda and she said lets go on a bender, shes doing the same thing too.
Honestly its like watching a bored animal in the zoo you don’t want to
Get me 2 more bottle of rum, a bottle of coke, and a packet of chewing gum
Oh and some lemons would be nice for ice and a slice
Tell me you have remembered to put flowers on your dad`s grave
It`s his birthday on the 17th and don’t forget A bunch from Aunty Maeve
I`ll spend the day listening to Cliff Richards Greatest Hits
He always was your dad’s fav
I do care but this whole thing is driving me to despair,
I am stuck in this position like so many other women right now
I guess we will have to make do somehow

Part IV

We are only in the early stages
I really don’t know how we will cope for much longer
On my reduced wages
I`m already putting Baileys in me coffee
To make me feel stronger
I`m baking a Christmas cake
She shouts from the window in her apron
We are on the brink of a national disaster
Doesn’t it make you think we need to go faster
I might not make it to Christmas this year
I`m bringing it forward to June
We going to need lots of cheer
After all this doom
I`ll have it outside like in Australia
Invite every neighbour
And we’ll have all the usual paraphernalia, except snow
Although with what’s going on you never know
I`ll invite Aunty Maeve, if she is still alive
And I`ll serve sausage rolls and Mince pies
Like I always do
We will play Christmas Carols
And we will make a toast to all those who caught the flu
We`ll save a seat for the wise man full of gold
Now hurry up I have a Christmas cake to bake
Off you go and do as your told
Get me some sausage meat, a pound should do
Keep your eye on the weight that butcher`s always on the make,
All right mum, stop the frenzy
There is something I need to tell you about Mrs McKensie
She`s dead I know, Brenda called me an hour ago
We are not allowed at the funeral, poor Kath
She would have wanted us to have a right good laugh
It’s a bloody disgrace the human race
When you can`t say farewell to your life long mate.

Part V

Pinch punch first of the month
She shouts down the phone
Mum do you know what time it is I enquire?
Are you not up yet my love
I am sat here with a brew in front of the fire
I know you cant come till Friday but I was wondering if you could get
Me some more plasters and 2 bottles of rum
Mum did you already drink the others
No of course not silly, I ve still got one in the cupboard
But was watching the telly and you know
That nice reporter I like, the one who wears the expensive coat
Always well spoken, You remember, the one who went down that
Big river in a boat
The amazon, in a canoe, mum yes I
Well I believe you now the shops are full of queues
So get me 4 of everything and save yourself the trouble of going
I`ve made you a small Christmas cake
Just a small one mind don’t think I have gone all kind
I`d forgotten how much fun it is to bake
(She used the word fun)
She is up to something I can tell
I know her too well
Mum I`ve got to go I need a wee
I`ll call you back when I am all dressed and up
Alright love don’t forget like you usually do
I`ll be here waiting

Part VI

I`d just got to a point of tranquility sick of mum and her hostility
When the virus hit and heightened mums irritability
I thought I was free of her nasty soliloquies
I`d found myself a small sanctuary, peace and quiet
No more blazing rows and days of dark clouds
And the constant reminders of what I`d not done with my life
Mum always chipping away with her snide remarks
Worse than a bloody fish wife and then
Asking me if I was alright and calling me sweetheart
A running commentary on my bad habits (in her opinion)
Forever creating division, well now she`s minus me
My flats is not much, at least its on the ground floor
I was so happy to be free I celebrated with a few drinks at the Jubilee
But front its got a patch of grass,
It is alright for a lass with not much brass
I sit out and have a laugh with the neighbours
I do not miss living with mum and her snap like an alligator
She just phoned with her list
Two more bottles of rum, a couple of pairs of tights, American tan,
And a new frying pan, apparently she burnt the bottom
I am a bit worried about her on her to be fair
She tripped on the stair carpet
I told her its thread bear and a danger
She said she wouldn’t have been there
If I have let her out on Friday for the market
I promised I would look after her, she is my mum after all
Angie is in Australia and can do bugger all
So its left to me looking after the baby
Tinned peas, not frozen and some chedder cheese
Can you ask someone to come and cut my tree?
It blocks the light from the living room
Does she not realise, what is going on
There is a whole bunch of new rules
We are not running on normal fuel
I`ll have to see if cutting a tree is seen as a necessity

Part VII

It`s not about mum today, even she knows it,
When she phoned to say what she needed this week
For once she sounded humble and meek
I`m never sure how she feels, though
Nothing ever seems real anymore
Not just this moment in time but the one enshrined in our heads
Unworshiped, living alongside us till our own death beds
A moment back in time on a crowded pier waiting for
Something to ripple the water,except the tide is out
All I remember is the loud shout for help
And then a head full of stars and it all went dark
When I came round I was in a strange room
I had no clue what I was supposed to do
As they told me the news, my mood turned blue
It`s not your fault, you`re not to blame
It took me years to get my colour back to normal
And my head in the right space from the unwanted fame
Mum has asked me for glue, apparently, she needs to fix her shoe
She is asking for weirder and weirder things of late
I told her I could order some online, shoes, that is
But I need to try them on, you know me and my feet
The fact she has worn the same sensible shoes
Since I can remember, same colour same style
But no she says glue will do
Nothing new till I can go and get it myself
I find my mind drifting and suddenly I`m playing dodgems in Tesco trying to stop crashing into other trolleys
I think of the phrase, avoid it like the plague
Looking for glue, a kid brushes past me with a sticky lolly
Should we go within 2 feet of each other it could be fatal
I shout, what the hell and quickly spray myself with disinfectant
Maneuvering swiftly, this way and that as I hurry to the till
There`s no thrill in this at all, my stress levels are climbing the wall
As I`m loading the shopping onto to the checkout
I see an old mate from school, she looks like she`s expecting
Not seen you round here for years she shouts across
No, I`m feeding mum, shit I hope she is not ill
No. I reply, she`s her old self, my mind wills me to say selfish cow
But in the end I get the right words out
And you, yeah family of five, three kids for all my sins
I don’t mention her swelling belly
She might just be a fat, who knows
Did you ever, have kids I interrupt quickly, no still single
Well it`s funny to bump into you, makes you think all this sitting inside
All day, kids aren’t even allowed out to play, driving me mad
She pauses and then I see her winding her tongue in
She has to think, then she throws me in the jungle
Are you alright now? I heard you went away for a long time.
Quickly I bungle the shopping in reusable bags
I`ve paid and I start walking away
Lovely to see you Alex, wow she remembers my name
Not difficult though as it was plastered all over the news
My body creases full of shame
It`s Sandy now I say, I go by Sandy and I hurry off, wiping tears off myface with a disinfected wipe

Part VIII

Am not going to mums as often these days
It is really limited when you can go out
The weather is glorious such a shame
NOT EVEN ALLOWED IN THE park to sunbathe
We all could do with a boost our immunity
No wondering outside a mile vicinity from your house
Save us from the virus, attacking the whole of humanity
Spreading and multiplying showing off its vanity
Turning up everywhere without any regard or care
Still some folks are taking the opportunity
Treating it like a holiday acting so selfishly
I know I am not the cleverest but even I can read
The curves on the graphs that are as steep as Everest
The devastation to be completed as rules are flaunted
People are delusional that they will escape
Believing they can go out and be social,
In groups more than two as the deadly flu gathers pace
Chasing the world up the steep climb
Mum has turned to religion, she does when it suits,
Same when dad died, church was her saviour
I mean she`s obviously a hypocrite
Lives by her own holy writ
She sent me a message:

Kneel down and pray for our community
Prostate and worship the virgin beauty
Ask the lord for forgiveness of our cruelty
To mother nature her patient femininity

Fuck knows how she did it, normally she doesn`t have a clue
A lovely girl posted it through the door, there`s more, she tells me
Listen and I`ll read it to you
She helped me send it to you, I shouted her back
And she stood on the step
Ever so sweet, all dressed nice and neat
Said I could use my phone to talk to the Priest
And he can do a video for me
She said she would come back and show me
“A direct line to God” live on a stream
I think she means the canal
It`s all been done up, its beautiful now
He will be on one of those fancy barges
It’s a rip off what they charge you for
A ride through the locks and back
I took Aunty Sue,
Said she couldn’t swim and what if it sinks,and she had a panic attack, we had to be let off, and walk back
Anyway that young girl, said she normally works in advertising,
Said shed been furloughed, whatever that means
It was funny, I felt sorry for her, she was sneezing
Said it was her hay fever
And that tree I asked you about
Apparently it’s the worse for getting up your snout
You can’t be going out giving stangers your phone
Did you let her in?
No she asked me to put the phone on the bin
And I gave her my pin
Mum please tell me you sanitised your hands and your phone
Mum you have to stay on your own
There’s nowt to do. You are always trying to get rid of me
When you come to visit, only stopping for five minutes
I know you, you are probably wishing me dead of this flu
Mum don’t be daft, I’m just not into religion and neither are you
The lord listened when your dad died
It really helped, I believe in Jesus of course I do
Will you not say a little prayer, come on kneel down
It`s been warm the front lawn is dry
Or better still get the door mat
Mum are you mad, they will think I`m an Islamic fanatic
I`ll not be praying, giving god a pat on the back
with you talking to me through the window
Calm down, stop getting all melodramatic
And then it shoots out of me like a bullet
From a semi-automatic

Part IX

It`s hard to believe we`ve arrived at Easter
Still locked down, to keep us all virus free and alive
Just trying to survive, while some folks can’t even breathe
Because the NHS is on its knees
Not enough respirators and intensive care beds
Barely enough gloves and masks to protect the frontline staff
Nurses and Drs have gone into overdrive
And the bloody government seems to have taken five
And can`t decide who is in charge of decisions
Meanwhile folks are deprived of basic provisions
Jobs losses, firms shutting down, there is nothing open in town
Food banks are empty like the bellies they feed
The government spews out advice we must heed
Yet even the Prime Minster has the inability to lead
By example and now he is in need of an intensive care bed
More tragic for those who are no longer with us
Like mum`s mate Kath, so counting my blessings
Mum is not in the mortuary pile up
A traffic jam of bodies waiting for a funeral slot
It`s all very distressing and now they say
They are running out of burial plots
Mum has been flapping about Kaths send off
And the body being preserved and not decomposing
And some bloody salad dressing she saw
Jamie Oliver make on telly, he said it goes well with a nice crisp lettuce
And Kath`s peach suit, she wore to Geoff and Brenda`s Golden Wedding
Did you know we all went to Spain and stayed in a hacienda
I think she look right nice all laid out in peach
Without a doubt, Mum is right interfering in normal days
She has reached new height with her domineering
Telling me to pop round to Gary, Kath’s only son
Telling me to tell him the peach suit is in the thing his mum should have on
Domineering engineering persevering she always has to be
The center of attention
She could never keep her nose out, that’s why I kept secrets
Been doing it since before I was even a fetus

Part X

I stand looking in the back of the car boot
Willing myself to take the handle of the suitcase, but it refuses to move
When I pulled up at mums, yesterday
I noticed the twitch of lace, Shelia’s putrid face from across the road
It was hard to miss the red leather suitcase
Right next to the table with a bright yellow
address label of a place I no longer go, or want to know
Mum opens the window and bellows out
Thought you might want it, its been sitting under your bed
Gathering dust, I cant use it I`ve no need anymore
Angie called to say after this mess she wants to come home
For good so I ll be staying put so I filled it up
You look tired, she throws me some bait
I am, shattered, not been sleeping well
Normally she wouldn't notice
And your hair its looking grey
Bit of a disgrace I might say
Thanks mum, she goes on
I`ve had a sort out under the stairs too
I`ve put it all in the case so you can do
With it what you want to
And your tupperware lids with some other bits
She said she was cleaning out the house
Been watching it on telly
Decluttering, getting ready to die,
I`ll rot away, alone here day after day
Might as well keep the house neat and tidy
She always was a morbid sod, Will wear my lilac blouse
When I go through those pearly gates
Now she has fuel to burn, her favourite topic
Words to bounce off her tongue
Death and misery its her currency
Shes been trading with it for years- ever since I can remember
I lug the suitcase though the front door.
It weighs a bloody tonne
God knows what she put in it I`m scared to look
So I leave it sitting in the hall.
Mum has written me a shopping list
It gets weirder by the week
I`m trying to do it online now and get a delivery
But its so busy and she is so particular
I mean how someone can row over the
Difference between tinned and frozen peas in times like these
Yet we are only scratching the surface
Years of intensive therapy taught me a lot
About the damage done and helped me fix it
But I am unraveling at the seams mum is slowly
Unpicking all my stitches
I don’t know what she put in the suitcase
And I really can’t face it now
I think a shot of Baileys in my coffee will sort me out.

Part XI

It seems the whole of Britain is baking bread
Kneading and shaping loaves is widespread
Yeast, the new liquid gold
Topping the charts replacing loo roll
In the number one spot of most sought after goods
Store cupboard staple, good old fashioned flour,
Is the star of the hour
One eye on the rising dough and the other on ebay
A single bag of flour, 19 quid currently the highest bid
People are starting to flip their lid
Like buying wellies when we had the floods
Just a few months ago, we are still mending from that
And the public went on and voted for that blond twat
Face masks and hand sanitizer,
Are also in short supply something we all desperately need
It is hell trying to stop this virus breed
Bread making is not for me
Years ago in therapy I learned to express
Myself through paint, I dreamed the impossible
To be able to continue and start art school
My application was late
Missed the deadline to get a place,
Mum put a spanner in the works
Nothing new on the menu
Just her usually over spiced plate of spite and hate
Didn’t want to let me out of her sight
Pretending she cared, saving face, looking good
Keeping her pride intact, holding her head up high
Sometimes I think she wishes it was me who had died
I have to drop off some orthopedic socks
She’s been complaining about swollen feet
She has a bunch of prescriptions for this that and the other
I asked the Chemist if they would deliver
Yes, but if it’s not urgent can you collect?
We are rushed off our feet and it might take a week

Part XII

As I pop the rusty catches on the suitcase
I suddenly have this overwhelming memory
Of the first day in Senior three
A new girl shuffled into class,
From the minute she smiled I was mesmerised
Dark brown hair in perfect curls flowing down her back
Piercing green eyes as shiny as glass,
Bewitching me with her beauty
As she skipped her way over to the chair next to me
Which as per usual was empty, she gently touched my hand
And said, already I know we are going to be good friends
A cold shiver ran down my spine
As I noticed the tattoo on her left forearm
She had no school uniform
And turned up in a bright green jeans and a white t-shirt
Her name was Linda Faa, Faa, F-A-A not F-A-R, Said Mrs Dawson, please be kind, Linda is new, not from around here
So perhaps one of you will be a dear and show her about
Linda and me became best mates right away
I don’t know why thought of her then
Not heard from her in years, not since the incident
Mum has packed so much stuff
As I open the lid, her lilac blouse pops out
Weird I think, as I root about
Old photo albums, books, a trinket box,
I have never seen before, it has a tiny key in a lock
I open it up and there it is my bracelet full of charms,
Funny I was thinking of her and here plain to see
She had one identical, birds of a feather
Linda and me bought them together
Mum has shoved in a bag of old clothes
I start a pile for the bin, a big brown envelope
With my name and the number 1027 stamped on
I rattle it, a 50 pence coin, a pink comb and a silver hair clip
Time for a cup of coffee, and a double Baileys me thinks
I am not really fond of a drink
But 50 days of quarantine, I think we are
All tipping over the edge a bit

Part XIII

I arrive on the street and everyone’s out in a frenzy,
It’s the 8 o’clock beat, standing apart, together in solidarity
Clapping for carers and nurses and Drs and for humanity
Franco, is playing his ice- cream van tune, parked on the drive
No ice creams or lollies or ninety nines, though
It would be nice, like old times, waiting for the ice cream chimes.
Blue lights flashing in my head, someone is dead
Crazy paving, all the rage, Greensleaves
It’s hard to pull up outside mums there is so much going on.
I pass and wave, as she looks on, I make my fingers in to a mock gun
Pointing at Shelia, standing banging pan lids
Everything has gone into slow motion, too much commotion
At the top of the street away from the heady beat
I sit by the row of garages, quiet for a minute
To rest my head on the steering wheel, a familiar bed,
A knock on the window, brings me back to reality
You alright love, he mouths
As he stands back to keep his distance I wind down the window
Yeah am OK, oh it’s you, not seen you round here for years
No I was living… here to see your mum he interjects
I must have looked blank; Greg, remember,
Your mum´s grass, we used to have a right laugh
That old mower. Blimey, how many years has it been?
Do you still live round here then?
Yeah, same house, bought it off me mum and dad
They moved to Spain, live in a right posh villa
So you married then? He asks me
No chance, and you? Nope, I heard that…
I’ve got a kid? Yep, remember Christine,
A near miss, anyway she ran off with another fella
I only get to see Stella once or twice a year
Well when this is over perhaps we can have a beer
For old times’ sake, down at the Church Inn, sit on the canal
Am sure you have plenty of tales to tell.
They are carrying him off in a white butchers van.
Mum stands at the door, me at the bottom of the drive
Been dead for over a week they reckon, nobody knew
I stare at the orange curtains blowing through the open door
I glimpse at the wall paper going up the stairs
I can’t believe it hasn’t changed, after all these years
The faded Noddy curtains in the top bedroom window
Look at that tree in front of the window, barks mum,
Blocked out all the light, no wonder he died
I grin, a tiny seed planted on a late summer night
By two little girls allowed to stay up late
While their mum and dads drank with their mates
Unbeknown to me it is a farewell telling mum and dad
About their plans to emigrate