Where the Memories Lie
By: Sibel Hodge   
Anna sat at the table, looking immaculate ? hair gleaming and smooth and swept back with a hair band, school shirt buttoned up and neatly tucked into her skirt, cute ankle socks with the frilly edges in perfect ruffles. I thought about what I’d looked like at her age. Wild hair all over the place, one sock up, one down, shirt tucked out of my skirt. Always too late or too distracted to do things properly. She must get her organisational skills from Ethan or Nadia. Still, she had my hair, which was thick and full of body.
At least she’d never go bald, thanks to my genes. And she had my snub nose and big blue eyes. Plus my caring nature. That had to count for some Brownie points. Didn’t it?
‘Where’s the butter?’ Anna looked forlornly at the peanut butter and jam I’d put on the table.
‘We’ve run out.’ I frantically spread strawberry jam on some wholemeal bread that felt like it was on the cusp of staleness again.
Mental note: Add bread to the list!
Anna groaned. ‘You know I hate toast without butter.’
I sighed and opened the tin with the last of the brownies in.
‘Here, have a brownie instead.’ I shoved it on her plate.
She picked off chunks and chewed, watching me. ‘It’s not healthy to have a brownie for breakfast and jam sandwiches for lunch.’
Who was the parent here?
‘And you’re not even dressed yet. You’re meeting Nadia at the bus stop in ten minutes. I can do my own lunch, you know.’
Honestly, I don’t know where the time goes in the morning.
I tried, I really did, but there was always something that needed doing to distract me ? this morning it had been a gas bill that I’d totally forgotten about which needed paying before they cut us off.
Anna didn’t share my lack of punctuality. In fact, she hated being late, especially for the school bus. If she missed it, she might end up with a detention. (This had happened before because of me.
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Where the Memories Lie
I’d felt very guilty about that for weeks. It took a new Horrible History Boxed Set DVD and a Kindle Fire for Anna to speak to me again.) She was such a stickler for following the rules and being the model student and got quite upset if she couldn’t because of my tardiness. She hadn’t got that conscientiousness at school from me, either.
‘It’s all done.’ I transferred her sandwiches to a plastic con-tainer and added the last Satsuma and a packet of crisps still left in the back of the cupboard. ‘Here.’ I set it down next to her as she finished off her brownie. I dashed out of the room with Poppy close on my heels. She knew it would be walkies time soon.
Ten minutes later, I was dressed but having trouble locating my keys. Where the hell were they? I looked where I usually dumped them, in the pottery bowl next to the fridge that Anna had made at junior school. It was in the shape of a three-legged tiger. Don’t ask me why it only had three legs.
No keys.
I looked in the lounge. In my handbag. My coat pockets. When had I last had them?
As I was walking back down the hall I stubbed my toe on a big cardboard box at the foot of the stairs. ‘Ouch!’ I hopped up and down, thinking a really bad swear word. I rubbed my foot, staring at the offending article. ‘Hey, what’s this?’
‘It’s some stuff I sorted out for the car boot sale. I thought I should put everything in one big box so then I know what I’ve got.’
She walked towards me.
‘Right. Well, I don’t want it left in the hallway. Put it in the garage out of the way when you get a sec.’
‘OK. I’m going now. I’ll tell Nadia you’re on your way.’
‘Actually, tell Nadia to walk down and meet me here instead.’
I kissed her cheek. ‘Have a good day!’ I called after her, but she was already rushing up the path.
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Sibel Hodge
It took another ten minutes to locate my keys in the fridge.
I had a flashback to when Tom was living with us and he’d put the TV remote control in the freezer. It never worked properly after that. The only button that did work was the volume one, for some reason. I shook my head. He was always doing that. Losing things only for them to turn up in obscure places. I didn’t have early-onset Alzheimer’s, though; I was just distracted, trying to organise a daughter and a house and a husband and job. Who didn’t forget things from time to time?
As I shut the front door, Nadia came through the gates.