La vida

“I want a divorce,” she whispered, turning her face away. It was a chilly evening in London

When are you two finally going to buy a proper flat? Margarets voice was sharp, insistent. She perched

We love you, son, but please stop turning up unannounced, Arthur and Margaret Whitaker had lived all

No, Mum. You wont be seeing us any more. Not today, not tomorrow, not even next year, I recollect saying

We love you, son, but please dont visit us again. We love you, son, but please dont come back.

The doorbell rang with an earsplitting shrill, announcing an unwelcome visitor. Margaret wiped her hands

The air was thick with the scent of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding when the front door burst open.

When Aunt Maud was ladling something from a pot, I fished antibacterial wipes from my satchel and began

**Diary Entry** *10th December* We love you, son, but please dont visit us again. An elderly couple spent

When Aunt Margaret was ladling a stew from the pot, I slipped a pack of antibacterial wipes from my handbag