“Florence, honeybun, I’m sorry I’m late. There was a cow in the road and Farmer Peterson couldn’t get it back in the field. I was stuck in the road for ages. Anyway no damage done and here we are. How are you? You have grown. I would hardly have recognised you. Mind you, it must be at least a year or two since I saw you last.”
Without waiting for a reply, I felt myself being lifted off my feet and squeezed until I could hardly breathe, but when I did, I got the familiar smell of lavender that reminded me of her.
As she released me, I spluttered, “I’m fine and really pleased to see you. At first I thought I’d got off at the wrong station and mum would go ballistic when she found out.”
“Huh, well you know Florence if you had, we wouldn’t have told her. What she doesn’t know won’t worry her, that’s my way.”
I looked at Aunty M’s smiling rosy face and I felt better, not so worried.
“How are you Aunty M?”
“Fine just ‘spondoolucks’ as always, my dear.”
With that, she picked up my rucksack and threw it on the back seat of the car next to Biggles; her yellow Labrador. He was also wearing a helmet and goggles like Aunty M. The seat all around him was covered in dog hairs and he was panting and drooling and a pool of slobber built up beside him. He was gorgeous. I had heard of Biggles many times had but never met him. Mum never let him come with Aunty M when she visited us.
“And that smelly, flea-bitten old mutt she lives with, I wouldn’t let it past the front door,” my mum said.
As I watched Aunty M tickle his nose with such kindness and fondness, I now realised why we had not had a visit from her for quite some time.
I got into the front seat and stretched back and stroked Biggles’ head and he licked my hand and then sneezed and I felt wet all over my fingers, better wash my hands before I eat anything.
Don’t be a nuisance. Keep out of the way. Do as you’re told Florence.
I could see mum’s steely grey eyes piercing through me, giving me a sense of dread.