Mum had been at home when I got in on Saturday evening. On Saturday evenings, we sang. Sitting at the small table in the kitchen. Mum, then Rose, then me. Backs straight as soldiers lined up in a regimental row. Mum liked the old songs best. Rescue Me by Aretha Franklin was her favourite. I quite liked it too even though it was a very old song.
She would get us to sing it over and over again, practising until it was just right, but it never was. So, we kept singing, late into the night sometimes. She had it on an ancient cassette tape, not even a CD, or on her phone.
She kept rewinding it and it made this funny little squeaking sound, like a hamster going backwards on its wheel. We were like the Jackson 5, only there were just the three of us. Mum also liked to sing Madonna and Michael Jackson.
We didn’t even get a break to have something to eat or drink, we just sang. Rose was much better than me but even she got fed up sometimes. Then I would start to get bored of singing, but Mum said we couldn’t stop until it was perfect.
So, we just kept singing and singing, long into the night.