Dotty and Lottie (But Not For Long)

 

 

Morning (barely) and I was woken up AGAIN by banging at the back door. I’d fallen asleep at the kitchen table sometime in the early hours, I can’t remember when. I think the last time I looked at the clock it was 3.42 am but it might not have been, I don’t know.

This time it was Lottie. She barged past me the second I had the door opened, storming into my kitchen shouting ‘WHERE ARE THEY? WHERE ARE MY GIRLS?’

‘Hold your horses, will you. They…’

‘TELL ME WHERE THEY ARE!’

‘I fucking ATE them, where do you think they are?’

She made towards the door that leads to the stairs, ‘PRISCILLA! CECILIA!’

‘Shut up, you silly cow, they’re sleeping.’

She turned round. ‘Are they all right? Were they upset?’

‘What do you think? He dragged them here in their pyjamas, they were crying their eyes out.’

‘Oh God.’ She sat down at the table. ‘I nearly died when I went into their rooms and they weren’t there. You could have rung me, you know, why didn’t you?’

Cheeky bitch! ‘Because I was SETTLING YOUR KIDS – that’s why. Anyway you’re a bit late to notice they’re gone, aren’t you? They’ve been here since half nine last night.’

‘He didn’t tell me. I got up this morning and… ‘ Then she BURST INTO TEARS.

Lottie did. 

She BURST INTO TEARS (sorry I just had to say it again, I couldn’t resist, I haven’t seen her in tears since we were little). She BURST INTO TEARS and sat there crying for a bit.

I watched her. She doesn’t cry like normal people, she makes a strange HAHURR, HAHURR, HAHURR noise in amongst all the snivelling. I think there was a moan or two in there as well but I couldn’t swear on it because of my tinnitus being so bad. I hate people who moan when they cry, they do it for attention – just CRY for fuck’s sake, don’t make a big show of it, no one gives a toss.

After a couple of minutes I put the kettle on to make a drink. ‘Tea or coffee?’ I asked.

I think she said tea so I made her tea. I had coffee – I don’t like tea, it tastes like soggy washing. I wanted to make some Cumberland sausages for my breakfast but I thought it might look a bit heartless if I put the frying pan on while she was still crying, but then I thought no it won’t because I’ll say I’m making Cumberland sausages for THE BERSERKERS’ breakfast.

‘I’m making Cumberland sausages for THE… girls’ breakfast. Do you want some?’

‘No.’

Fair enough. Wait till she got a whiff of them cooking, she’d want some then.

‘Do you want toast instead?’

‘I don’t want anything.’

Fine. I got on with making my breakfast. Two Cumberland sausages each for THE BERSERKERS, six little beauties for me. I was starving.

My Cumberland sausages were quarter-cooked when she said, ‘Did they get to sleep all right?’

‘Yep.’

‘What about Cecilia? She won’t go to sleep if she doesn’t have her teddy.’

‘She didn’t mention a teddy.’

‘Oh.’

Silence again except for the sound of the Cumberland sausages cooking. Hiss, hiss, pfff, pfff. And an occasional sniff from Lottie. I got the bread and butter out, and the plates, and a couple of cups for THE BERSERKERS’ milk. 

‘Wayne’s seeing someone else.’

WHAT? FAT-FUCK? SHAGGING AROUND?! HA HA HA HA HA!

‘He’s leaving me. That’s where I went last night, why I left the girls with Scotty. I followed him to her house.’

I turned the gas down so my Cumberland sausages wouldn’t burn. I didn’t know what to say to her. What CAN you say? So I said, ‘I can’t believe it.’

‘No, me neither, I thought we were happy, everything was fine. I can’t believe he’d do this, he always says the girls and I mean the world to him.’

‘No, I mean I can’t believe someone else would want him.’

Oops.

‘What do you mean?’

In for a penny, in for a pound — ‘Come on, Lottie, he’s a fat wanker – he’s a waste of good eyesight. You’ll be well rid of him.’

That did it.

‘WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT MY HUSBAND? HE IS NOT A FAT WANKER, HE’S WELL BUILT AND HE’S A PROPER MAN, NOT LIKE THE WIMP YOU MARRIED AND WHERE IS HE? OH LOOK, HE’S DEAD BECAUSE YOU MADE SUCH A GOOD CHOICE OF MAN YOU HAD TO KILL HIM.’

‘That’s a bit below the belt. And who said I HAD to kill him?’

She got up fast, scraping my chair across the lino.

‘Don’t do that, it hurts my ears.’

‘Fuck off, Dotty.’

Woohhooooo! She IS human. Off she went to get THE BERSERKERS and I let her, I could see it would all end in more tears if I didn’t (ha, she BURST INTO TEARS). I went back to cooking my Cumberland sausages which were almost done. A couple of minutes later I heard the toilet flush, then again, then they all came into the kitchen.

‘Cumberland sausages for breakfast!’ I said.

‘We’re going.’

‘No mummy,’

‘Yes!’

‘I’ve made their breakfast.’

She ignored me and handed THE BERSERKERS their coats. ‘Put them on.’

‘Want to thtay here.’

‘PUT YOUR COAT ON.’

And twenty seconds later they were gone and it was like they had never been. Except I had ten lovely Cumberland sausages for breakfast instead of six.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leave a comment

23 Comments

  1. clownonfire

     /  March 7, 2012

    You’re the best UK export we have in Canada since Coronation Street.

    Reply
  2. Dear Dotty, Lottie is giving her girls a big fat fucking complex, by dragging them off when they want to stay. And, since the husband is a wanker, and he left her last night, why would she be so defensive that she had to stomp out before her kids ate breakfast? Still, I’m happy you got the 10 sausages. If the kids had stayed to eat breakfast with you, Lottie would have pissed and moaned the whole time, and they’d get the idea that Mommy won’t love them if they spend time with Aunty Dotty. What a thoroughly fuck-up sister you have!! 8-) Love,

    Judith

    Reply
  3. Dearest Dotty,

    10 is better than six.

    Buckle my shoe,

    Uncle
    xoxo

    Reply
    • Dear Uncle,
      Brasso is good for keeping your shoe buckles shiny.
      Love Dotty xxx

      Reply
      • Dearest,

        Why, of course. That’s exactly what we used when I was in the service of the United Sates Navy. I must say, I miss those times. With the structure of the military, the undiagnosed Bipolar Disorder was only hypomanic/melancholic. The best of times to be sure!

        I also use it in the attic, although Heather gave me quite a row about having to order it in the General Store from Boston.

        Always,

        Uncle
        xoxo

      • Dear Uncle,
        Beeswax is good for buckles too although it’s more famous for it’s wood polishing qualities.
        Love Dotty xxx

  4. Persephone Jones

     /  March 8, 2012

    Dear Dotty,
    I can’t imagine killing Hades he’s so big and powerful and angry most of the time i’d have to do it when he was asleep. How did you actually kill your hubby? And where is Scotty?
    Any news? Are you Canadian?
    Have you watched Antichrist? I advise you not to.
    Ms Px

    Reply
    • Dear Persephone,
      I’m not using swear words today so I’m sorry but I’ll have to answer all your questions except one another time. The answer I will give you is ‘no, I haven’t watched Antichrist. Is it good?
      Love Dotty xxx

      Reply
      • Persephone,

        I have been looking for you as, alas, we don’t have Facebook in the 1800’s. Time travel did not work, as does my netbook. It’s just too fast. Will you have a blog soon?

        I hope so,

        Uncle
        Post Script: Dearest Dotty, my apologies for hijacking your comments.

      • Dear Uncle,
        Just in case she doesn’t come back for a while, Persephone’s blog is listed in Dotty’s Pet Blogs – it’s called Painting And Other Things.
        Love Dotty xxx

      • Persephone Jones

         /  March 31, 2012

        Dear Dotty,
        you might have by now it was on the tv. no its rather nasty.
        special regards
        Px

      • Dear Persephone,
        I had to go back and see what’s nasty.
        Hope you’re well. :-)
        Love Dotty xxx

  5. See, it all worked out.

    Reply

Write a little note to Dotty.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 567 other followers

%d bloggers like this: