The ‘pet funeral’ people came and collected Betty later that day. It was hard for Vivienne to say goodbye to her lovable pet. As they prepared her body for transportation Vivienne realised that they’d not spent one night apart since she’d first came into her life almost nine years before. It really would be strange without the ‘Madness of Queen Betty’ to keep her entertained.

The people that came for her could well have been undertakers. They were dressed in black and spoke reverently in hushed tones about Betty and what Vivienne wanted done with her. After some discussion, Vivienne agreed to be there for Betty's final journey in two days’ time. She expressed that wish as it only felt fitting that Betty deserved a proper send off as thanks for the part she had played in her life these past years.

The house seemed even emptier now that the last vestiges of Betty had gone. All that remained were her hairs and the scratches on the hall floor. She wondered if she’d have to get that sorted out before she could sell the place.

Sell! What on earth had she been thinking?

Then she remembered her recent trip to Devon and Jacques. Even now and with what had happened with Betty just thinking about him caused her arms to become covered in goosebumps.

“Oh, you stupid woman. Why would a man ten years younger than me even be remotely interested in an old has been like me?” or words to that effect had been muttered to herself more than once each and every day since she’d returned from Devon.

Then Vivienne was certain that she heard a ‘yelp’ coming from the kitchen. She knew that it was one of Betty’s ‘don’t do that’ sounds.

Vivienne looked up at the ceiling thinking…
“Ok Betty. I know you are watching over me. I shall try my best to think positive from now on.”

Without Betty to walk and to cuddle up with, Vivienne felt very listless. She knew that she should be doing something but she didn’t have a clue as to what it was. For the umpteenth time she looked at her watch. That in-between time of day that was too late for ‘tea’ and too early for ‘dinner’.

“Sod it!” She exclaimed with a vengeance.

Vivienne went out for a walk even if Betty wasn’t at her side or pulling at her lead. She wasn’t going to stop taking exercise now that Betty had passed.

---

Vivienne returned home just before seven that evening. Still feeling listless, she broke the habit of a virtual lifetime and went to get a Chinese Take Away. Getting ‘carry out’ was something that she hadn’t done in years. Betty seemed to be allergic to something in Chinese Food so she had avoided it for years now she could indulge without fear for her pet’s health.

Vivienne sat down at the kitchen table full of anticipation at being able to eat the forbidden fruit but almost immediately, she began to feel guilty about eating the one food that she could not eat while Betty had been her companion. Angry with herself, she pushed it to one side without taking even a mouthful.

Later that evening and with the food cold, she felt awful throwing away all that perfectly good food but her appetite had disappeared down the drain just like the Sweet and Sour Sauce.

A rumbling stomach told her that she had to eat something but all that remained in her fridge was some of that excellent handmade cheese from Devon. Vivienne made herself a Cheese and Pickled Beetroot Sandwich. Then she poured herself a glass of wine. That made her feel a lot less guilty so she made a toast.

“To you Betty and thanks for everything.”

---

The next day dawned and more out of habit than everything, she kept listening out for Betty to come up the stairs and wake her mistress up with a good face licking. It would take her a long time to get that and many more pleasant memories out of her system, if she ever could.

Vivienne spent the best part of the morning trying to take an inventory of the contents of the house. All the advice she’d read on the internet about downsizing had said to start with making a list of what you have got. She managed to get half of the smallest bedroom done before she got so depressed that she gave up and went downstairs.

“This is going to take forever,” she muttered to herself as she headed downstairs trying to think of another way to do this.

After a bite to eat for Lunch, Vivienne started to make a few lists. The first one contained items of food for her larder and fridge. At the moment she didn’t have the enthusiasm for cooking. This was very strange for her but probably just a reaction to losing Betty so unexpectedly.

The second list contained all the things that needed doing before and if she sold the house.

Before long, both lists contained at least twenty items. Vivienne reviewed them and added a couple more items when she remembered a flyer that had been shoved through the letterbox about six months previously. The flyer was an advert for companies to do this sort of thing for you.

It didn’t take her long to find a number of companies that specialised in both Downsizing and making a home perfect for prospective buyers. Their services didn’t come cheap. Far from it. Vivienne wondered if this was the reason, they had been trying to drum up business from the more well healed parts of the City. That got her thinking again about Devon and what might lie there waiting for her should she move.

Another wave of guilt descended over her. Vivienne’s gaze went towards where Betty should have been. Her basket was gone. The cupboard that contained all her dog food was still there but it was all out of sight. Sadly, yet another job was added to the house ‘todo’ list.

“This won’t do,” Vienne said to herself for the umpteenth time that day.

Ten minutes later Vivienne was out of the house and heading for the shops. Her internal autopilot had kicked in and she soon found herself heading for the place that she normally shopped in Cricklewood. She shopped there simply because she could get all her shopping and have some lunch while her car got a free charge. If she spent two hours in the shop and cafe, she’d arrive home with more power in the battery than when she’d left.

Once she realised where she was heading, Vivienne disengaged her menta ‘autopilot’, and changed direction. This time, her destination was Highgate Village. She intended to shop at a smaller store and do some browsing at the offices of several Estate Agents that were within a few yards of the store. She’d had this sudden urge to know how much ‘Chez Vivienne’ was worth after thirty plus years.

The pound signs that accompanied the urge was a mistake waiting to happen. The first two agents were really only interested in giving her a valuation if she agreed to give them a three-month sole agency on the sale. When Vivienne calmly pointed out the signs in the window stating that they would give free no obligation valuations, they quoted dates at least three weeks in the future. No wonder that profession is amongst the most hated in the country. Vivienne left them with a firm ‘I’ll think about it’.

She really didn’t need to think about it. Her answer was an emphatic NO. They obviously thought that Vivienne Carter was born yesterday or had no head for figures.

Just then, it came on to rain so Vivienne went home.

---

[The day of Betty’s Cremation]
The following day seemed to go by at a sleeping snails pace. Betty’s Service wasn’t until four in the afternoon. That meant that Vivienne had to find things to do to fill her day so that she couldn’t dwell on the memory of Betty.

If anyone had told Vivienne just how attached she’d get to the animal before she rescued Betty, she might not have adopted the decidedly lovable canine. Vivienne felt somewhat ashamed that she’d become more attached to her four-legged companion that she’d had ever been to her children. They both had been a pain right from the day they could walk. There were many times before they started school that she wished them dead. Even then, they’d not settled down.

Suzanne was regularly reported for being disruptive in her early years at school. She would just not accept anything that she was being taught without arguing the toss over its authenticity or validity. Even experiments that showed things like Newtons ‘Laws of Motion’ were tossed aside as being poppycock or even worse.

Thankfully, she settled down in her later years at Secondary School but her body language clearly said that she believed everything was a con. By the time that Suzanne was no longer a teenager, she’d found a home with the conspiracists who believed that NASA’s Moon Landings were all filmed on a Hollywood ‘Back Lot’ and worse. She wasn’t quite a flat earther but very close.

In hindsight, Vivienne should have seen Suzanne’s conversion to her version of Veganism aged sixteen coming. Vivienne often wondered if they’d bonded a lot more if this side of her personality would have been less well developed. As the older of the two Suzanne had Janice following her every move but thankfully not quite as extreme. As Janice grew up she became only interested in money and spending it and even better if It was someone else’s cash.

When Betty came into Vivienne’s life, there was someone to bond to and love unconditionally and get loved in return. Betty had one advantage over her children in that she never fought back. As long as Betty was fed, watered, groomed and above all walked at least twice a day, she was happy. In return she’d give her mistress all the love that her own children had failed to return.

At the day wore on she wondered and not for the first time, if she should have ever had children. Being a mother is hard work at the best of times and it soon became clear that Vivienne was not really cut out to be the nurturing sort but with two children to care for she did her best. Her parents, god rest their dear departed souls had tried their hardest to whip her into shape so to speak but it didn’t work very well. Still, she’d managed and even held down a decent job that allowed them to live reasonably well and in a very nice part of the city. Not splashing out on expensive holidays or luxuries helped but there was always a cry for more from her children.

Vivienne’s period of introspection was tempered by trying to figure out what to wear. She had a black two piece that She’d worn to funerals in the past but it didn’t seem suitable for Betty. In the end she went for something a bit more colourful and selected a bright blue skirt and a very flowery top. Betty had liked the skirt a lot. You could tell that from the marks of her wet tongue on it that even several washes with added stain remover had not entirely erased.

---

Vivienne had only just arrived at the Pet Crematorium when her phone rang. The caller-id told her that was her daughter Suzanne.

“Hello?” she said trying to sound neutral.

“Yes, I’m not at home.”

“I’m over in Epping Forest.”

“Well, if you must know, Betty died the other day and I’m just about to attend her cremation.”

“Yes, I know it is a lot of money but to be perfectly frank, I don’t care what you think. She was my dog and if I want to give her a good send-off then I’ll do it. Besides, I won more than the cost of the funeral on Premium Bonds last year.”

“Well, my darling, what was the reason for your call?”

“No, I haven’t come to my senses and yes, I did visit a couple of Estate Agents recently. Didn’t I say to you and everyone that I was going to move away?”

“No, my home isn’t up for sale at this point in time. Why? Do you want to buy it?”

“Look darling, I have to go. It is time for the ceremony. Bye.”

She ended the call and…

“Grrrrr. Now she’s spying on me. The sooner I’m away from this place the better.”

She closed her eyes and counted backwards from one hundred to one, just to calm down.

It didn’t entirely work so with another curse aimed at her daughter; she went into the crematorium after deliberately leaving her phone in the car.

---

Vivienne managed to keep the tears at bay until Betty’s little coffin started to disappear from view. She’d said a few last words to her. Her doggy face was a model of serenity. She was at peace with the world.

“Goodbye Betty. I’ll never forget you and what pleasure you gave me.”

Vivienne than sat quietly for a few minutes before returning to her car.

The brief moments of hoped for solitude were ended by the sound of her phone ringing well before she reached the car. She didn’t really care who it was at that moment. She picked the cursed thing up and swore at herself for not switching the dammed thing off before going into the Crematorium.

As she held the phone in her hand, the ringing stopped. Taking advantage of the moment, she switched it into ‘Flight Mode’. The display told her that there had been eight calls and four messages left on voicemail. She didn’t need to look closely but it was obvious that all the calls and messages had been from her daughters. They could wait until later, much later.

After getting her mind into gear, she headed for home and got stuck in the evening rush hour. This would be one thing that she would not miss when she moved away from London.

As Vivienne neared home and found herself sitting in yet another traffic queue, she started thinking about the woman she’d met on the way to Devon. Despite her being half her age, Maxine Forsythe was doing something positive with her life. Her career as a Collector of Taxes had been mostly the opposite. Her job was to come down heavy of people abusing the system and extract as much as she could from them in as short as time as possible and to hell with what effect that had on their families. Issuing ‘Winding up orders’ had been just a normal activity for her and her team.

For the first time since she’d retired, Vivienne began to miss the work even if at times it caused so much heartache to those close to the offenders.

Then she cursed herself. She’d used the word ‘was’ as if she was still employed. Habits of a lifetime and all that. There were lighter moments when Inspectors screwed up. When they did, it was usually a big mess and it was up to people like her to sort out. The rare times when she told a person or a business that the HMRC got it wrong, were moments to saviour but they were so rare in comparison to those who deserved to be taken to the cleaners. Yet, there was Maxine working with businesses and helping them grow and prosper without being a ‘Vulture Capitalist’ and saddling them with loads and loads of debt before moving on. Vivienne suddenly felt as if the majority of her whole working life had been wasted.

Being melancholy is not normally her thing. Betty had…

Betty had been there to drag her mistress out of these sorts of ‘fugs’. Now she wasn’t there any longer, Vivienne needed to find a new purpose in life.

As soon as Vivienne walked through to her front door, she realised that when shopping she’d forgotten to buy any milk.

Vivienne sank to her knees and had a good cry. It had been that sort of day.

[to be continued]