Man Of Few Words

Chapter 40

I'm writing this at "The Cottage". I didn't bring my laptop because... I'm not sure why, really. I guess I told myself I wouldn't feel like writing while I'm here, but really I think it was just that I couldn't be bothered to pack my laptop into a bag. I only really packed clothes, all of which I picked up from the floor of my bedroom – which doesn't stink now, although something's still not right with the air in there – and the living room. As predicted, I wasn't at all ready when Hat 'n' Mat arrived, and I didn't want to keep them waiting.

The Cottage hasn't changed much since I was last here, which was around ten years ago, I think. There's a flat screen TV in the living room now, and a wireless router flickering away on the wall over the stairs. Some of the equipment in the kitchen seems new, but I think pretty much all the wallpaper, paint, flooring, curtains and furniture are the same as I remember. If not the same, then indistinguishable.

The front porch is still a little too small for a grown man to remove his shoes and coat in it without feeling awkwardly off balance throughout the whole procedure. I was tempted to ask if I could just keep my shoes on as my dying wish, but thought it would probably just be taken as a joke. Besides, I might only get one dying wish, so I should probably save it up for something better than that. There's a ridiculous number of pairs of shoes in the porch. I reckon there must be more pairs of shoes in there than have been people in this house ever.

The living room is painted white in a largely unsuccessful attempt to make it feel less gloomy. The windows are rather small and set low in the walls, and very little sunlight makes it through the dense foliage of the front garden anyway. There's almost no empty white space on those walls thanks to Mum's insistence on putting up ornately framed prints of paintings and drawings from the 18th and 19th century. The pictures are mainly portraits of angelic upper class children, or of elegant men who look like they're probably dukes. I don't think Mum really knows or cares who they are. She puts a lot more care and effort into picking out the frames than the prints.

The framed prints far outnumber the family photos, of which there are a few dotted around the living room. I might be imagining it, but I'm pretty sure there used to be at least a few of me, but there aren't any more. I spotted myself in at least one shot of the whole family on holiday, but that was about it. No smart but toothless school photos, nothing from graduation, certainly nothing recent, obviously.

The modest fireplace has a chunky, irregular timber beam embedded horizontally in the wall above it. I doubt it fulfills any structural purpose. It just makes the room feel older, more traditional, and more cottage-y than it really is.

There's now a fancy looking yet rickety iron table where the bloodstained rug used to be. It has a vase of dried flowers, a candle and an old hardback book on it. It's too far from any of the living room's seats to be of any practical use, and I can imagine Mum ticks Dad off if ever he tries to put anything on it that isn't the vase, the book or the candle.

On one side of the fireplace is the TV, perched upon a small, purpose-built unit that, like the TV itself, looks quite out of place in its faux-traditional surroundings. But, let's be honest, not that out of place. And then beyond the TV is the door to the kitchen.

The living room sort of continues around a corner on the other side of the fireplace. There's a kind of mini hallway wedged between the fireplace and the stairs. It leads to the study at its far end, and has another door to the kitchen on one side. That bit's especially gloomy.

The area of the living room closest to the bottom of the stairs has always been known as "Dad's Corner" although it's not really a corner at all. There's a deep, and still surprisingly smooth, dark leather armchair backed against the wall there, with an antique reading lamp on one side, and a high wooden table on the other. I noticed a book balanced precariously on the corner of that table, with a pair of reading glasses set on top. The rest of the table's limited surface space was dominated by another vase, this one housing a couple of fresh looking blooms with thick, succulent stalks.