Then she shot up in the bed, remembering. Nellie…
“Shane, wake up,” she said, elbowing him none-too-gently on the shoulder.
“Whah? What time is it?” he asked blearily.
“It’s eight in the morning, that’s what time it is,” Karen hissed. She couldn’t believe that not content with ruining her evening, now Nellie was trying to intrude on her precious Saturday mornings too.
“Aw, great – smells like Mam’s making a fry-up,” Shane declared sitting up in the bed and sniffing the air.
“Well, what in God’s name is your mother doingmaking a fry-up in our house at this hour?” she gasped, incredulous.
“Calm down – it’s no big deal. Mam always gets up early.” He threw back the duvet and got out of bed. “Brilliant.” He pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “I haven’t had one of her fry-ups in ages, and I’m starving.” Rubbing his hands with glee, off he went downstairs, completely oblivious to her indignation.
Karen sank back down and pulled the covers over her head. Let Shane have breakfast with his mammy. There was nowayshe was getting up at this unearthly hour.
She closed her eyes and tried to return to sleep, until a few minutes later heard a shout from downstairs “Karen – stop lolling around like a lazy lump. Your breakfast is ready.”
She sat bolt upright on the bed. The cheek of Nellie ordering her around like she was a ten-year-old – in her own house! Well, she could go sing – Karen would ‘loll around’ for as long as she wanted. Then she heard footsteps on the stairs and Shane stuck his head around the bedroom door.
“Karen,” he said delightedly, “you should see the place downstairs – it’s spotless. Mam must have been up since cockcrow, hovering and polishing. Now neither of us has to do a tap this weekend– isn’t it brilliant?”
She resisted the urge to throw a pillow at his grinning face. Why didn’t this level of intrusion bother him – or why couldn’t he see that it was botheringher? Or wasit perfectly reasonable to Shane that his mother could just swan in and do as she pleased?
“I’m not getting up ’til she’s gone,” she huffed, letting her head fall back hard on the pillow.
“What?” He was puzzled. “But you’re awake now – and she’s cooked us breakfast.”
“I don’t care. I don’t think it’s right that your mother is wandering around this place like it’s her own,” she pointed out. “AndI certainly don’t think it’s kosher that you gave her a key without consulting me first.”
“What? But how else was she supposed to get in if none of us were home?” he asked, mystified.
She sat up and turned back to face him, her eyes flashing. “Whyshouldshe get in if none of us are here, Shane? This isourhouse – not a stopover for your family’s city jaunts.”
“I don’t know what you’re getting so worked up about,” he said, lowering his voice and glancing at the door, afraid that Nellie might hear.
Karen was livid. She couldn’t believe that he was trying to turn the tables and make it seem as thoughshewas the one being unreasonable.
“Just feck off, Shane,” was all she could think of in response. “Feck off downstairs to your mammy.”
“Fine. I will,” he retorted, turning back towards the door. “But whatever your problem is, you’d better get over it. I don’t know what’s going on with you these days.”
Couldn’t even bring himself to slam the door behindhim, she thought sourly. Too afraid that he might upset Mammy Dearest.
Realising that she needed to use the loo, Karen got out of bed, opened the door and tip-toed across to the bathroom. Downstairs, she could hear Nellie merrily telling Shane how she had to go out to buy food since there was nothing in the fridge.
“Barely a scrap of milk,” she trilled. “I can’t understand how you can live like this, pet.”
Karen slammed the bathroom door behind her, noticing that her discarded wet towels and clothes had been picked up, the washbasin looked freshly scrubbed and the tap handles on the bath were gleaming.
Bloody Nellie had beeneverywhere.
What did she do, wait until Karen went to sleep so she could go over every room in the house with a J-cloth and a bottle of Cif?
But what should she do? She couldn’t go downstairs and confront her again in front of Shane. That would only force him to take sides and Karen couldn’t be sure at this point where his allegiance might lay. Not that it would be fair to put him in such a position she supposed, heading back to the bedroom. After all, he was very close to his mother.
What was she supposed to do though? She couldn’t let Nellie take over their lives like this. Glumly, Karen pulled on a pair of jeans and a fleece. There was no point in hiding – this washerhouse after all.
“Morning, Karen,” Nellie chirped brightly, when shejoined the cosy tableau at her kitchen table. “Or should I say, ‘good afternoon’?”
