Cat Lady by Dawn O’Porter

Author:Dawn O’Porter [O’Porter, Dawn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2022-09-05T17:00:00+00:00

14

I wake to the realisation that there is a finger up my nose.

‘Layla, no, get off,’ I say, waving my hand.

‘Play with me,’ is all I get in return. She climbs on top of me and grabs a chunk of my hair.

‘Not too hard,’ I beg, as she yanks it from my head. I release her grip and tickle her on the nose with it instead. She giggles and it’s so adorable that I tickle her under her arms too. Her body is convulsing around as I tickle her tummy, her sides, under her neck. Her laughter louder and louder as she forgets herself entirely. It’s very cute, until she kicks me so hard in the face I wonder if she’s broken my nose.

‘Layla, come on love. Let Aunty Mia wake up,’ says Liz, coming in and leaving a cup of tea on the coffee table. She scoops her baby up and disappears, shutting the door, giving me a moment to come round.

My back is sore. They’ve had the same couch for longer than I can remember. It smells, it’s sticky and there is more food on it than I’ve eaten in the last twenty-four hours. I’m wearing one of Simon’s t-shirts and a pair of his shorts. Before I went to bed, I had a shower and washed the blood off my feet and the make-up off my face. I rinsed my slippers in the water. The blood didn’t come off and they have dried hard.

In the kitchen, Liz is wearing a fleece dressing gown that I got her about fifteen Christmases ago. I got the same one, but I’ve had four of them since. Simon is still in bed. Layla is making a terrible job of eating scrambled eggs with a spoon. There is a toddler in a highchair that I haven’t met yet, and the angry nine-year-old is eating Cheerios and not looking up. Liz looks so tired, but still she doesn’t complain. I watch her serve them all with half-open eyes. She receives mostly grunts as thank yous but continues with a weary smile. I wish I could have more of my sister, but she is taken by her need to do for others what no one will do for her.

‘I have to go to work,’ I say, as I put Pigeon into her carrier.

‘OK, well it’s been good to see you. I left that box of Dad’s things by the door. Finally, after all these years, I could face going through it all. There’s a dress of Mum’s in there too. Take it.’

‘I don’t want that stuff.’

‘Well then just take it to a charity shop, Mia. Please, save me the job. Oh come on, you didn’t help me at all with Dad’s place. Can’t you at least just take this box?’

I don’t want to touch it. And I didn’t want to go back to Dad’s house when he died. I told her I’d pay someone to go and clean it out, donate anything worth donating, chuck everything else.

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