Alfie

My mother was standing at the kitchen sink, holding her cup of tea, and when I walked in she said, you look awful, even though she hadn't even turned around. I told her thanks and set about making some breakfast. One of my sisters had clearly stolen my expensive imported golden grahams because there were only a few stale pieces left at the bottom of the box.

I padded them out with cornflakes and was mid-retrieve of a spoon from the dishwasher when my mum said, have you thought any more about moving out? I froze in place like a particularly shit street performer. I looked at my mother with a raised eyebrow.

I padded them out with cornflakes and was mid-retrieve of a spoon from the dishwasher when my mum said, have you thought any more about moving out? I froze in place like a particularly shit street performer. I looked at my mother with a raised eyebrow.

The truth was I had thought about it almost constantly since the moment I'd had to move back in, and it was only very partially to do with the laissez-faire approach everyone else in my immediate family seemed to have with cutlery storage.

The truth was I had thought about it almost constantly since the moment I'd had to move back in, and it was only very partially to do with the laissez-faire approach everyone else in my immediate family seemed to have with cutlery storage.

Mum's house was, like I say, a less-than-ideal living situation for me, and it was not just because I was forced to share a single bathroom with another adult, an almost-adult and a pre-teen. Mid-morning is a good bet for showers in Mum's house.

Mum's house was, like I say, a less-than-ideal living situation for me, and it was not just because I was forced to share a single bathroom with another adult, an almost-adult and a pre-teen. Mid-morning is a good bet for showers in Mum's house.

Tammy, my littlest sister, has bats in the evenings, mum showers at the crack of dawn, and Grace, in the glory of her late teens, does not usually emerge from her bedroom until early afternoon. When I first moved back, my old bedroom was full of Christmas decorations, including the artificial tree, still decked out in all its bauble and light glory.

Tammy, my littlest sister, has bats in the evenings, mum showers at the crack of dawn, and Grace, in the glory of her late teens, does not usually emerge from her bedroom until early afternoon. When I first moved back, my old bedroom was full of Christmas decorations, including the artificial tree, still decked out in all its bauble and light glory.

Mum told me her friend Janet had been doing this for years, you just wrap the bastard in a couple of loops of cling film and shove it out of sight. Janet had a spare room, which mum had never had before, so as soon as the opportunity arose, she ceased it.

Mum told me her friend Janet had been doing this for years, you just wrap the bastard in a couple of loops of cling film and shove it out of sight. Janet had a spare room, which mum had never had before, so as soon as the opportunity arose, she ceased it.

She seemed to have also applied the same logic to other occasional-use household items, because my room was also home to the never-used stationary bike, which was dressed in several winter coats, the fully-assembled ironing board, complete with a decorative layer of shirts that had never even heard of an iron, let alone been subject to a pressing by one, a dog's bed filled with dog toys for the dog, Millie, who had died five years previously.

She seemed to have also applied the same logic to other occasional-use household items, because my room was also home to the never-used stationary bike, which was dressed in several winter coats, the fully-assembled ironing board, complete with a decorative layer of shirts that had never even heard of an iron, let alone been subject to a pressing by one, a dog's bed filled with dog toys for the dog, Millie, who had died five years previously.

In fairness, Mum had cleared the suitcases off the bed before I arrived, stacking them in a haphazard tower between the bike and the tree and its clingfilm condom. Will we need to move anything else, she'd asked, and I told her no, because I thought I'd only be there for a few nights at worst.

In fairness, Mum had cleared the suitcases off the bed before I arrived, stacking them in a haphazard tower between the bike and the tree and its clingfilm condom. Will we need to move anything else, she'd asked, and I told her no, because I thought I'd only be there for a few nights at worst.

I'd come back to stay with Mum, because my partner, Ben, who I'd previously been living with, had forgotten to check in with me about when my shift would likely be ending, so he'd failed to kick out the younger, hotter version of me he'd apparently been sleeping with for months before I got home.

I'd come back to stay with Mum, because my partner, Ben, who I'd previously been living with, had forgotten to check in with me about when my shift would likely be ending, so he'd failed to kick out the younger, hotter version of me he'd apparently been sleeping with for months before I got home.

Younger, hotter me was a medical student, who was also named Ben, which I'd found a particularly kick in the teeth. It wasn't that he was called Ben, which was my partner's name too, or even that he was younger and unquestionably more attractive than I was. It was that he was a medical student. My Ben had started sleeping with me when I was a trainee nurse.

Younger, hotter me was a medical student, who was also named Ben, which I'd found a particularly kick in the teeth. It wasn't that he was called Ben, which was my partner's name too, or even that he was younger and unquestionably more attractive than I was. It was that he was a medical student. My Ben had started sleeping with me when I was a trainee nurse.

I remember the night I left for my mum's house, right before I walked out the door, I looked at them, sat together on the couch that my Ben and I had bought together, and asking, dazed, if they said each other's names during sex, because wasn't that weird, saying your own names?