Vivienne’s not so good day wasn’t over. At a little after seven that evening the front door bell rang.

As she entered the hallway, Vivienne could see two figures through the frosted glass on the door. It was either someone trying to convert her to their religion or it was her beloved daughters. For once, she really hoped that the former had chosen to try their luck with her rather than her daughters.

If it was the latter then it was to be expected given the virtual deluge of calls and messages that had been sent in her direction since the phone call with her daughter just before Betty's Funeral.

Vivienne opened the door just a little bit. Her heart sank when she saw her two daughters standing there. Their combined body language told here that this was not a social call.

“Mum! What is this about Betty?” demanded Janice.

“Aren’t you going to let us in? It is our home after all,” added Suzanne.

“As I have made it clear this is my home and has not been yours for quite a few years. Both of you have your own homes and families. At the moment I don’t want any company thank you very much.”

“But Betty?” pleaded Janice.

“Yes?”

“Suzi said that she had passed.”

“If you mean died… then yes she did. She just didn’t wake up the other morning. She was getting on a bit in doggy years. I had her cremated this afternoon. That is all there is to be said on the matter.”

They looked at each other and then back at their Mother.

“We are worried about you. Now that Betty has gone. We know how much you loved her.”

Vivienne managed a small chuckle.

“If you think that I’m going mad, crazy, bonkers or even just plain unhinged then you are very much mistaken.”

Then she looked Suzanne right in the eye.

“As for selling this place… I am going to sell up and move away. I have told you both that several times now but for some reason, you don’t seem to understand me. If either of you want to buy the place then now is the time to speak up. If not then I’ll put it on the market within a few weeks.”

“But Mum? This is your home?” said Janice.

“Yes, it is my home and it has been a good home to me and to both of you in the past. Now that I’m retired, I don’t need this place. To be perfectly honest, I’ve been putting this day off for more years than I can remember. That means, I’m going to move on to pastures new and begin the next part of my life. What I do or where I go is still to be decided but rest assured, I will be leaving London.”

“But Mum?” said Suzanne.

“Stop right there. I want to hear no more ‘but Mum’ from either of you both now and in the future. You have your own lives and families that need your care and love. I need a new challenge. I am most certainly not going to stay here and fester thinking about past times. That is in my opinion, a sure-fire way of not lasting six months… Or is that what you want eh?”

“Why won’t you let us in?” asked Janice changing the subject.

Vivienne tried but failed to stop a sigh coming out of her mouth.

“As I have said, this is my home. If I want to invite you in then I will. I’m done with you two just waltzing in and literally taking over my home. Both of you should think back to the morning of my Birthday party and think what you did and didn’t do. You couldn’t be bothered to wash the dishes that you dirtied after I specifically asked you to do just that but no you couldn’t be bothered. Then once you have both apologised for how you have behaved, I might just let you in again. Until then, this is as far as you go. This is your very own ‘naughty step’.”

They both looked aghast as if they wanted to say ‘how dare you treat us like little children’ but thankfully they didn’t say a word.

“Now if you don’t mind, I have a pile of ironing to do.”

Both of them were still stunned into silence by Vivienne’s positiveness or spite or whatever but it worked.

“Give my love to all my grandchildren. Good night.”

Vivienne shut the door in their faces and retreated towards the kitchen.

When she turned to look back at them, they were still there but from the sounds that penetrated the door, they were arguing with each other. That was really not that unusual. They’d always fought as children over everything and anything apart from spending money and long as it was not their money that was being spent.

---

It was only later that evening that Vivienne started to regret her choice of words and action.

“Oh well,” she said to herself.
“What’s done is done. They needed a bit of a telling off but…”

Vivienne realised that she’d ‘told off’ her daughters more times in the past three weeks than she’d done… Then she remembered back and recalled the telling off’s that they’d received when they were teenagers mostly for staying out too late on school nights.
“’Some things never change’ followed by ‘will they ever properly grow up?’,” she thought to herself.

Vivienne carried on with her ironing… it wasn’t a huge pile but her daughters didn’t know that. Once she had put everything away Vivienne sat down in her living room and looked around.

There was really very little that she could not do without if she was really severe with the downsizing. The kitchen was a different matter. That was where she’d always gone to escape the world. If she’d had a bad day at the office she would put on some music and do some baking or if it was really bad, she’d make some bread. Beating the hell out of some dough is very therapeutic.

Getting rid of much of her cooking gadgets and utensils would be hard. It all depended upon the size of the kitchen that she would have in her new home. One of the main reasons for rejecting any of the retirement homes that her dearly beloved daughters had suggested to her was the miniscule size of the kitchens. The bedrooms were not much better. Once a bed any larger than a 2ft 6in single was in there, there really wasn’t room to swing a mouse let alone a cat and the operators wanted close to three hundred grand for what Vivienne had called a half-sized matchbox.

That night, Vivienne fell asleep happy in her own mind that I’d made the decision to move. This was now her former home. Where and when she’d go was a different matter entirely although Devon was pretty high on the list.

Vivienne smiled to herself when she admitted to herself that it was the only item on the list.

---

During the night she found herself wide awake for some reason. This was in danger of becoming a habit.

The house was quiet. The sound of the city was muted. She knew from past experience, that it should be between 02:00 and 04:00. She turned over to look at the bedside clock. It read 03:23.

Despite not having all that much sleep, she was unable to drop off again. Instead, she began to think once again about her trip to Devon. There was an opportunity there but she could just not see what it was. Close to dawn, she did fall asleep having made the decision to meet up with the woman who had sort of taken her under her wing during her trip. It couldn’t hurt to sound her out about a few things.

---

Habits of a lifetime die hard. Vivienne went out for a walk the following morning. She even met a few of the regular dog walkers. A few commented on her lack of a dog. They all felt sad when she told them about Betty. They’d all shared many walks and a good number of Coffee’s at the local Café over the years.

Several asked if her was going to get another dog. Vivienne gave them as non-committal a reply as she could.

“At the moment I’m not. I well might be moving away from London entirely.”

At least the walk got her out of the house and gave her some much-needed exercise. It also allowed her time to think about what she should do about the house. The two Estate Agents in Highgate Village, that she’d already visited, were a dead loss so she had to take a different path.

As Vivienne neared her home, noticed a removal van parked at the side of the road. A team of men were at work. They were emptying a house just a few hundred yards away from her destination. Vivienne thought nothing of it at the time and passed by on the other side of the road.

She had almost reached the end of the road when something occurred to her. A sort of ‘what if’ moment. She turned around and looked back at the people taking things out of the house. It seemed that there were three men working and a fourth man watching the proceedings. She wondered if this was the owner. No time like the present to ask about the service that they’d received from the agents.

Vivienne, walked up to the man who was watching the removers.

“Excuse me,” she said.

The man turned to look at her.

“Is this your home?”

“Yes. Well, for the next few hours it is. Why do you ask?”

“I hope that I’m not intruding but I was wondering about the Estate Agents you used to sell your property. I’ve tried a couple of places in Highgate Village and they were only interested in giving a valuation if I signed up to them as sole agents despite signs to the contrary in their windows.”

A smile spread across his face.

“I think I know exactly who you mean. We didn’t like their attitude much like you have found out for yourself.”

“What about the one you used? I can see their board with a ‘Sold’ sign on it.”

“They were very professional indeed. They gave us a discount for eight weeks sole agency. We received the first offer in less than two weeks of it being on the market.”

“Would you recommend them?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks for that. I know where their office is. I’ll drop by later today.”

“Ask for Gavin Thurston. He did everything we asked from him. Very professional and courteous.”

Vivienne smiled.

“One last question if you don’t mind?”

“Fire away.”

“Did you… do what they call ‘stage’ your home?”

He laughed.

“It wasn’t possible. Not with three under sixes to contend with. What they saw it what they get warts and all. The new owners have two under-fives so it didn’t matter too much when it came to the price.”

“Thanks for your time. I won’t hold you up any longer. I have a better idea about what to do next about selling my house.”

He looked at me strangely.
“I’ve seen you walking your dog on the Heath. We have an Irish Setter.”

“Oh yes. I remember her. Full of life.”

“That’s her all right. Where is your dog? A Cocker Spaniel is my memory is correct?”

“That’s Betty. She died in her sleep at the start of the week. She wasn’t a young dog so it was to be sort of expected.”

“Oh, I’m sad to hear about it. Are you going to get another one?”

“Not yet. I’m going to get moved first. Then? I don’t know. I shall just have to see. I grew very attached to Betty.”

“Don’t I know it. Rosie is totally part of our family. I don’t know what the kids will do when it is Rosie’s time. Like Betty, she’s getting on a bit in ‘Doggy years’.”

“Thanks again for your time.”

“My pleasure.”

Vivienne walked away feeling much happier about what she needed to do next.

---

The next morning, Mr Gavin Thurston arrived with clipboard and laser ranger in hand to look over Vivienne’s home. He’d been pleased with the recommendation from his now former client.

After the usual humming, ahhing and telling her all the problems with the place which she already knew only too well especially about it being rather tired, he completed his survey.

“I think that you may well get between two point eight or two point nine in its present state.”

Vivienne knew that he was talking about millions of pounds.

“And if I get it staged?”

“Much the same really. Let me be honest Ms Carter. Homes like this one that are structurally solid but are a bit tired and dated when it comes to the décor, fixtures and fittings, are best sold without any window dressing. Any discerning buyer will see right through any tarting up you might do right now. Unless you were to modernise the place yourself from top to bottom which would take three to six months and cost upwards of fifty grand, it really isn’t worth it. After all that my revised estimate would be a maximum of three million. Then there is every chance that the buyer would rip out the new kitchen and bathroom right away. I take it you want a reasonably quick sale?”

“Well yes I do but there is a lot of work to do before I could move out. As I said, I have been here more than thirty years. That’s thirty years of ‘stuff’ I need to sort through.”

“That isn’t all that unusual. One of my more recent clients simply moved into a two-bedroom flat and only removed what they found they needed. After three months, they sold off the rest of the contents for charity. I’m not saying that this is the right solution for you but it was a way of concentrating the mind about exactly what they needed in their new home.”

“That is certainly an idea worth considering.”

“Do you have a place lined up already?”

Vivienne chuckled.

“I don’t. I’m not totally sure where I’ll be going to. It might be that a lot of things go into storage. The only thing I do know is that wherever it is that I end up putting down new roots, it will be well away from London.”

He laughed.

“Most of my clients are doing the same. Conversely, there is still great demand for properties from people coming to the city.”

Vivienne laughed.

“It keeps you in a job does it not?”

It was his turn grin back at her.

“It does indeed.”

Then he looked at her with a straight face.

“Do we have your business? Do you want us to handle the sale of the property on the terms we discussed yesterday?”

Vivienne looked him up and down. Then she made up her mind.

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Good. Could you come into the Office later to sign the agency forms? I think I can get a photographer out on Monday or Tuesday if that is ok with you?”

“I think so. It will give me a chance to get at least a few rooms reasonable.”

Vivienne showed Mr Thurston out the front door a few minutes later and almost straight away began to feel rather sad. She’d taken the first step towards moving on with her life. This chapter of the book on her life was starting to close quite rapidly.

---

There is nothing like a deadline to spur into actually doing something you know you have to do but have kept putting it off until tomorrow. Only the right tomorrow never comes around.

With a photographer due at 11:00 on Monday, Vivienne spent the weekend tidying and cleaning her home from top to bottom. It is amazing how many cobwebs seem to magically appear as soon as you get the dusters out. Then there are the spiders that return five minutes after you had cleaned that exact spot.

By the time she called it a day on Sunday afternoon, Vivienne was exhausted. There was a big pile of things to take to the recycling centre for first thing the following morning but as far as she could see, the place was as good as it would get without a major overhaul.

The exercise had driven it home to her that she really did have a lot of stuff. Lots of that stuff that hadn’t been used in years. Instead of selling or recycling or donating it, she’d just kept it on the off chance that it could be useful in the future. Naturally 99% of it never got used again. More than once she asked herself if we as a race were naturally hoarders. Even her daughters had kept all the baby clothes that their children had worn. Originally, she’d hoped that they would get reused with the next child but no, they got all new stuff because that was what all the other ‘yummy mummies’ at their playgroups and nurseries were doing and keeping up with those other ‘yummy mummies’ was what they did.

Vivienne laughed at the term ‘yummy mummy’. There had been no such thing or label when her daughters were under five or at least no one said it publicly. Now it seemed more of a badge of pride.

With the house clean, Vivienne took a long bath and relaxed. If there was one thing about the house that she was going to miss, then it was this bath. It was at least eighty years old. It was big enough to bathe all the children at once which meant that for her, she could actually float if she filed it right up. That was a joy that she’d miss wherever she’d eventually end up moving to. She’d seen the baths that the houses where her daughters lived and they were tiny, really tiny by comparison.

As Vivienne gently floated in the warm water, she began to wonder if she could do a deal with the people who bought the house to sell her the bath if they were going to rip out the bathroom. Then she could take it with her to her new home.

Then she laughed at herself for being so silly. What if the bathroom at her new place was the size of a postage stamp? There would be no room for the bath.

Then she began to fantasise about having the bath outside rather like a ‘Hot Tub’ with the water heated by the sun. That certainly would be different. Then she laughed at the absurdity of the idea.

After more than an hour of savouring the luxury of her bath, the water started getting cold so Vivienne reluctantly climbed out, dried off.

As she put on her nightdress, she wondered how many more times she’d have the luxury of a long bath in her home. Part of her wanted it to happen many more times but the more pragmatic side of her wanted it all over sooner rather than later.

[to be continued]