On A Mantle

Mud had already scuffed my brand new clothes. And memories flooded my mind, weighing me down. Even before I sat on the worn out sofa.

“Come on, Paul,” said my Dad. “You’ve barely touched your beans on toast. What’s the matter with you? Used to be your favourite.”

“He’s got fancier tastes now, Dad,” said my brother. “Paul only eats foie gras.”

“What’s foie gras?” asked my sister.

I interjected, “No idea, I’ve never had it.”

I hadn’t been back to Yorkshire for a while. It wasn’t just my family who had noticed. The neighbours all came out onto their driveways, waiting for me, as I pulled up. Someone must have given them a heads up. Or maybe one of them had seen my sports car in the village.

Even so, my arrival didn’t feel like fanfare.

It was more like a funeral procession.

Luna the silky brown Cocker Spaniel was licking the shoes on my feet. Beans had dripped from my plate, on to my shoes, as I’d sat down. Hiding the annoyance on my face was difficult. Luna didn’t seem to mind.

My plate rested on my lap and I balanced it there carefully. Trying not to spill any more over the sides. Luna was done with my shoes. She wagged her tail expectantly, waiting for more.

Seeing Luna almost made going back home worth it. Even though I’d sworn not to go back ever again. Which, in hindsight, was something I said every time.

“How’s London, Paul?” asked my sister, Sarah.

Sarah was lounging in the threadbare armchair by the fireplace, her legs dangling over one of the arm rests. She would be turning thirteen soon.

“It’s good, thank you,” I replied. “Work’s busy. Apart from that, it’s same old, same old.”

“What do you do again?” she squeaked. “I'll never understand it!”

“I don’t really either,” I joked. Sarah laughed.

“Oh, bore off,” said my younger brother, Pete, laying on the muddy carpet in front of the fireplace. The dirt had never bothered him as much as it bothered me. “Don’t get him started. He’s a banker, Sarah.”

“Yes, he works in the City,” said my father suddenly, who was sitting in the armchair opposite Sarah, hands gripped around a large mug of tea, which rested on his belly. “An accountant, I believe. Helps rich people hide their money.”

I’m neither a banker nor an accountant.

“I work in Private Equity.”

“La di daa,” said Pete. “I work in the chippy, don’t hear me banging on about it.”

Everyone laughed. Except for me.

“You sell cod, we sell companies,” I replied. “No difference, Pete.”

“Don’t see me dressing like I’ve got a stick up my arse, though.”

Everyone laughed. Except for me.

I shovelled some more beans into my mouth. Luna started wagging her tail, again.

The room was hot from the fire, not the central heating. The living room was just how it had always been. Dark blue walls, chipped badly in places, attached to a low-down ceiling, with great wooden beams that made it even lower.

It was small, too. Just enough space for the two battered armchairs and the sofa.

Above the fireplace, on the mantelpiece, were a series of framed pictures, side-by-side. Photos of all of us. When there were all of us. Knots in my stomach quickly came, then disappeared just as fast. I returned my gaze to my food. I ate some more even though I couldn’t taste anything.

“How’s work, Dad?” I asked.

Dad lifted his mug from his stomach, and took a long slurp from his tea, before setting it back down.

“All fine, thank you, son,” he replied. “School isn’t what it used to be. But what do I know? I just look after the grounds.”

“Dad,” said Sarah. “You do so much. When can I drive the lawnmower?!”

“Oh, we can visit whenever,” said Dad with a chuckle. “What about tomorrow?”

“Yey!” said Sarah, wiggling her feet with excitement, and bunching up her hands into small fists.

“Why don’t we all go?” said Pete. “Family day out. Like we used to.”

“Fine by me,” said Dad. “I could do with the company, boys. Can show you how to be handy. You never know when you might need to rewire a dining room.”

“Very true, Dad,” said Pete. “Alright with you, Paul?”

I felt exhausted. “Maybe. I have to get back to London. I’ve got work on Monday.”

“It’s only Saturday today!” said Sarah. “Please, please, please, come along! It’ll be fun.”

“No, look. Another time. Promise.”

Sarah stopped wiggling her feet. Pete stared into the fire. Dad lifted up his mug, and took another long slurp.

“Do what you need to do, son,” Dad said. “No problem.”

My beans were almost finished. I took another mouthful. Luna was sitting up ramrod straight. Her tail was swishing even faster than before. I took the spoon and held it out. Luna licked the spoon clean with two rapid jabs of her tongue. I set the plate down on the floor, and let her tackle the rest, too.

“Are you not hungry, Paul?” asked Sarah.

“I’m pretty full, actually,” I replied. “But that was nice, thank you, Dad.”

“He doesn’t like it,” said Pete.

“It’s not that -” I tried to say. Pete interrupted, “What is it then?”

“Look, just leave it.”

“I know it’s not like how your Mum made it,” said Dad, who looked across at me, into my eyes. “But it’ll fill you up, at least. Before you head back to the City.”

Silence followed. It wrapped around us all. The crackle from the fire, and Luna’s wet tongue on the porcelain plate, were the only other noises I could hear.

My gaze flicked back up to the mantelpiece, towards the pictures. Five of us, not four. Mum in every single one. Pictures and videos were the only ways we got to see her, now. And I was thinking the same thing I always thought, whenever I sat here.

Why didn’t I take so many more?

The knots returned to my stomach. This time, they didn’t disappear as quickly.

“How’s school, Sarah?” I asked.

Sarah had taken her phone out and was scrolling through her messages. “It’s alright. I like seeing my friends everyday.”

“Great. What about your subjects?” I replied. “Are you still into English?”

“I like Science the best,” Sarah said. “We get to wear lab coats and set things on fire.”

“Jeez, Sarah,” Pete interrupted. “You be careful, now. Them fire things can be dangerous. What’re they called, again?”

I answered, “Bunsen Burners.”

“Right,” Pete said. “Bun-sen Burn-ers.”

“She’ll be alright, son,” said Dad. “Think it’s the bun-sen burn-ers should be afraid o’her.”

We all laughed, this time.

A familiar voice echoed from where Sarah sat, filling the room. I craned my head and saw Sarah transfixed to her phone screen, watching an old video: Mum was smiling at the camera, which wibbled and wobbled, as if a very young person was holding it.

Sarah: Hello, Mum.

Mum: Hello, sweetie.

Sarah: I’m filming! What’re you doing?

Mum: Talking to you, gorgeous.

Sarah: I love you. Mum? I love you.

Mum: I love you, too…

Sarah clicked off the video and placed her phone face down. Luna’s ears pricked up, at the sound of Mum’s voice. She left me, to trot over to Sarah’s chair. Luna hopped up with a single jump, landing firmly on Sarah’s lap. Her tail wagged as Sarah hugged her close.

No one spoke for a while after that.

“When are you going back down south, then, Paul?” asked Pete.

“Probably in a couple of hours.”

“What?!” Sarah said, turning to look at me. Luna jumped off her lap. “That’s so soon - you just got here.”

“I know but -”

“Standard,” said Pete.

I replied, “What’s that supposed to mean, Pete?”

“You know damn well,” he said. “Always in a hurry. At least, whenever you grace us with your presence. And it’s never for very long, eh?”

“Boys,” Dad interrupted. “That’s enough.”

“No - let him talk,” I said. “He’s clearly got a lot to get off his chest.”

“At least I’ve got something to say. Paul cares more about his spreadsheets than his family,” Pete said, his voice cracking slightly. “Counting down the seconds until he can leave.”

“We can talk about this outside if you want.”

Sarah was looking down at her hands. I thought she was about to cry.

“Boys!” Dad stood up, tea from the mug spilling onto the floor. We all turned sharply to look at him. “I said that’s enough. Pete, get out of here. Go away and calm down.”

“Fine by me, Dad,” he replied.

Pete got up in one movement. His baggy checkered shirt covered his stocky frame, and it was tucked in tightly to his jeans. The beard on his face made his eyes look even wilder in the dark. Pete stared at me as he crossed the room. I ignored him as he left through the wooden doorway, turning left to go up the single flight of stairs. His footsteps slowly disappeared into the distance.

“Don’t worry about Pete,” Dad said. “He just misses you. Doesn’t know how to express himself.”

“Yeah.”

“He misses your Mum, too.”

“We all do,” I said. “I’m not coming back, if he’s gonna be like this again. I mean it this time.”

Dad nodded sadly at me. He took two steps towards me. I sat there, looking up at him. He looked so much like Pete. But his eyes were mine and Sarah’s. Golden-brown and expressive. And riddled with sadness. His hair was completely grey, now.

Dad beckoned me to stand up, which I did. He threw his arms around me in a rough embrace. I wrapped my arms around him, too, burying my head into his shoulder. My eyes stung straightaway. I blinked my emotions away.

He clapped me on the back two more times.

“Let me go see your brother,” Dad said. “I’m sure he’ll have calmed down by now.”

Dad let go of me and walked across the room, through the doorway, and up the stairs. His footsteps were slower and heavier than my brother’s.

Luna had curled up, in front of the fire, her eyes gently closed. I couldn’t take my gaze off the dancing flames, which kicked and curled upwards. Underneath the mantelpiece; upon which rested everything I truly cared about.

“Sarah?”

“Yes Paul.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too…”