“Mummy, I’m home.”
Mildred forced her way inside. The door fought back as the tower of toppling newspapers refused to budge.
“Millie?”
Mildred blinked with the lack of light. She flicked the switch but nothing happened.
“Mummy, where are you?”
“What?”
“I said where are you?”
“In here, didums.”
Mildred felt around the hall table but all her hands could feel was the rough, wiry coat of the stuffed poodle. She pulled away as she grazed its canines.
“I can’t find the candles.”
“You can’t sign the sandals?”
“No, Mummy. Can you switch on the light?”
“You’re right, didums, two stitches to the right.”
Mildred lifted one foot and pushed it out. The tip of her shoe found a stack of mouldy boxes. She waved her toes around until she found a clearer path and stepped forwards.
“Mummy, it’s getting dangerous in here. You might trip.”
“I’m well aware of the drip, Millie. I’ll call for a plumber.”
Mildred sighed. She tucked her cape into her waist and slowly made her way along the hall. She had to turn sideways to bypass her mother’s wheelchair and old accordion, neither of which wheeled or wheezed anymore. Hopping over an open suitcase, she heard a rhythmic creaking and her mother singing.
“My little Millie, shirt’s so frilly, none so silly, as my little Millie.”
Mrs Ruddle tittered to herself as her daughter battled into the living room. Mildred merged with a dozen other shadows and soon was lost within the maze of junk.
“Did you enjoy the film, didums?”
“Yep. And guess what happened on the way home?”
“Oh, tell me, please.”
“I saved a cat from a tree.”
“You did?”
“Uh-huh.”
“My little Millie is a superhero after all.”
Mrs Ruddle beamed as she rocked in her chair. Her fingers flew as the knitting needles danced in her hands. Mildred used the noise as sonar. She pushed out her arms like a mummy trying to find her Mummy and stumbled on. Bric-a-brac strewn along the threadbare carpet caught her ankle but Super Mildred used her keen sense of balance to prevent herself from falling.
“I wish you would keep a light on in here.”
“Don’t need it, didums. Now that Binky’s passed on – may God bless his tiny soul – I don’t have to leave my chair to let him out for a wee.”
“But you still need out to wee, Mummy.”
“Are you sure?” Mrs Ruddle put down her knitting. “I’ve had an idea.”
Mildred finally made it through the labyrinth of leftovers to stop by her mother’s rocking chair. Her eyes were beginning to adjust and she saw her mother lift something onto her lap.
“I told you my precious things would come in useful one day.”
Mildred wasn’t sure what she was seeing. It looked like a bowl of sorts. A foul whiff wafted.
“Mummy, that isn’t what I think it is, is it?”
“Does the job perfectly. No need to go upstairs now.”
“But a sieve won’t work. There’s too many holes.”
“That’s why I plugged them up. Blu-tac to the rescue again.”
Mrs Ruddle put down the soaking sieve as its contents washed onto the rug.
“So you saved a cat?”
“I did and everyone saw. I got to show them my outfit and climb a tree and everything.”
“I’m so proud of you, Millie. Thirty-years-old and a real-life superhero. I only wish Binky were here so he could lick your face well done.”
Mildred wiped her cheek as if the dead dog’s tongue was still slobbering there.
“Mummy?”
“Yes, didums?”
“Uhm, there’s that thing we need to discuss.”
“No.”
“But Mummy…”
“I said no, Millie. A thousand times no. No, no, no!”
“It would be far better for you…”
“Don’t want to listen.”
“…and safer…”
“Nah-nah-nah-nah.”
“…not to mention cleaner. There’s lots of other people your age too. And the food’s delicious.”
The rocking chair creaked at breakneck speed as Mrs Ruddle thrust herself forwards and backwards with her hands over her ears.
“You wouldn’t have to pee in a sieve and you can see the lake from the house.”
“Binky hated it. Said it wasn’t for him.”
Mildred stopped herself from disparaging the late third member of their family.
“You can’t live here forever, that’s all I’m saying.”
Creak, creak, creak.
“Mummy?”
Mrs Ruddle had returned to her knitting. She was now singing a new song.
“Bad little Millie, wants to kill me, won’t let me wee-wee, bad little Millie.”
Mildred threw up her hands which almost toppled a stack of chairs. Then she had an idea. Feeling her way around, she found the path back and left the room.
“Ruff-ruff.”
The sound made Mrs Ruddle stop in mid rock.
“Ruff-ruff-ruff.”
“Who’s that?”
Mildred hid behind her cape and the stiff frame of the stuffed poodle. The taxidermist had ripped them off but Mildred hoped her plan would justify the exorbitant fee.
Mrs Ruddle rubbed her eyes. No. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be.
“Binky?”
Mildred stood out of sight behind the chairs and shook the dead poodle’s neck up and down.
“Oh my little Binky. I thought you were dead.”
“Ruff-ruff…I’m in doggy heaven but I can’t be at peace.”
“Sweet didums, what’s happened?”
“Knowing my mistress is all alone in the dark..ruff-ruff…she needs to be with friends.”
“But I have Millie.”
“Grrr…you need friends your own age. You need to move on. You need to leave me and this place behind.”
Mrs Ruddle covered her mouth with her hand. “I could never leave my home.”
“Listen to Mildred…ruff-ruff. She knows what’s best…listen to Millie.”
Like a ghostly apparition, the poodle ascended to float in the air. Mrs Ruddle gasped as her beloved friend gave one last bark before disappearing behind her things.
“Binky!”
Mildred waited for a full minute before emerging. Her mother had her fingers stuffed in her mouth and she was rocking.
“Mummy, are you ok?”
Mrs Ruddle looked up and saw her daughter. She reached out her arms. Mildred ran to hug her.
“It’s okay, Mummy. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Author’s note: in my defence I’ve been watching a lot of League of Gentlemen recently.