Continued:Chapter: The past: Molly’s family had gone now. Her parents and Grandparents were long deceased. Her brother died in England after a serious heart operation. One brother remained. Her young life of Rock and Roll and the 20 years in her homeland were becoming a quiet faded longing in her heart. How many times that heart had broken was beyond count. 50 years in the north had taken toll. So long ago it was since Molly was a teenager attending “The Victoria Secondary Modern Girls’ School.” Drifting back in time to when she was 13 years old, Molly remembered how she came home from school with a little bowl of rice pudding that she had made in cookery class. It was deliciously sweet and creamy. There was so little left of it. It had tasted so inviting that Molly was forced to use her self control has not to eat the last remains. Placing the bowl on the table for her mother and father to taste, proof of how clever she had been in cookery that day, Molly then climbed the stairs, took the first door on the left to her bedroom and changed out of her dark blue school uniform into something more appropriate. In the meantime Harry, her brother came home from work as black as the soot in the coalmine he worked in. All that showed up was the white in his eyes. He walked along the hall on the newspapers his mother had laid out for him, glanced into the kitchen and saw the rice pudding. Has a hungry wolf, he took a spoon from the cutlery drawer and scoffed the lot, then walked up the stairs on the newspapers, along the landing then into the bathroom and turned the hot and cold taps on. First the hot tap and then the cold tap, getting the temperature just right, no idea of how all hell was soon to break loose. When Molly’s mother came home, Molly was already in tears. “He ate all my rice pudding, mammy and you didn’t get to taste it and it was so scrumptious, mammy. I hate him.” Molly’s brother lifted his shoulders and looked into his mother’s penetrating eyes. He shrugged his shoulders and said, “How was I to know?” and disappeared up the stairs toward the bathroom. If he blushed of shame, it didn’t show through the coal dust. Molly’s rice pudding was lost forever.
Posted on: Tue, 15 Jul 2014 08:48:03 +0000
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