Sunday 29th September 2019

Sunday.

And the day when I face up to the reality of what has happened. Not that I am in emotional denial, just the sheer amount of work needed to be done.

We get up at half six, have a coffee, and then Jools goes swimming, I watch the football, then pack, so when Jools comes back, I am ready to leave. Not that I want to go, to be honest, but this shit needs to be done.

I load the car, kiss Jools goodbye, then pull out of the drive, it was just about nine in the morning.

I go up the A20, then up the motorway, through the roadworks that seem to go on forever between Ashford and Maidstone, then up the north downs to join the M25a nd then to the Dartford Tunnel.

I know this road well, heck, you know this road well. But it is a glorious morning, bright sunshine and light traffic.

Pleasant for a change.

Into Essex, and for a change I go up the A12, right under the flight path when I go to Denmark. And I should have been flying on Monday, not now.

Anyway, I make good time, up past Chelmsford, Colchester, Ipswich and across the Orwell into the 1950s, where the roads are single carriageway, and never straight.

But the drive is pleasant, and I enjoy the changing colours of the trees, especially the Horse Chestnuts which seem to think autumn is here already, and the leaves and conkers already falling.

North of Ipswich, the road is a nightmare, though this time I made good time, pressing on through the familiar landmarks of Darsham, Saxmundham and Blythburgh, where it was high tide and the banks of reeds sway whilst paddling in the muddy waters.

And so to Lowestoft, through Oulton Broad, past the old Co-op and to Mum's house.

The old family house.

All is quiet.

I get out and open the door, the stale air, mixed with the wonderful scent of stale fags and urine.

Lovely.

I walk through the house, not really knowing where to start. But I do start, sorting through the cupboards for in date food, bagging that up to drop off for the foodbank.

Mum's chair sits in the corner, surrounded by papers and ash and dog ends as a result of the desperate attempts to save her life.

Jools had unplugged everything as we did not know when anyone would come up, so for an hour I tried to get stuff to work, mainly the frdge/freezer that was beginning to smell, though the frozen stuff was still frozen.

That done, I try to get the TV working so I could listen to Leicester drill Newcastle a new bum.

I do some shopping, come back and make a ragu for that night's dinner, and enough for maybe three nights.

I start to tidy things, or sort stuff into piles.

It seems an impossible task, but all big jobs have to have a start.

I eat my pasta and wash it down with a glass of red wine.

That seems better, but the size of the job seems huge.

Bigger than huge in fact.

I call Jools and we talk about what needs to be done We agree to get admin tomorrow, and see how I get on.

I have more wine.

That seems better.

I go to bed at eleven, thinking of all the things I need to do, and hope that its not as bad as it seems.