It began to drizzle when I arrived in Chiltern on Tuesday morning. My sister, Deborah, arrived from Melbourne at the same time and we met our younger brother, Simon, at the gate of my mother’s house.
“”It’s okay,” said Simon, “I’ve told her we’re going to Yarrawonga to get a dog.”
Me: “”You did what? What the hell did you tell her that for?”
Deborah: “”We can’t do that. We’ll have to tell her.”
But Simon had spent two nights a week with my mother for some years. He was right. But since when did older siblings take notice of the youngest.
Deborah, turning to Mum: “”Mum, Simon is going to Western Australia for a little time. He needs a holiday. We’re going to take you to Yarrawonga, just for a few days to see if you like it.”
Mum: “”I’m not going anywhere. I’m not spending a night anywhere but in my own house.”
Simon in an aside to me: “”Don’t worry, she’ll forget and we can start again with the dog. Don’t worry.”
Mum to me: “”You were here before weren’t you? You had glasses on.”
Me: “”No, Mum, I don’t wear glasses. I was here a couple of months ago.” (She recognised me then.)
Mum: “”When were you last here? You were here with glasses.”
Simon: “”Crispin doesn’t wear glasses.”
Mum: “”I’m not going anywhere.”
Deborah: “”Okay, let’s have some coffee.”
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