Crooked Seeds by Karen Jennings

Author:Karen Jennings [Karen Jennings]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Text Publishing Company
Published: 2024-04-16T00:00:00+00:00

In the afternoon Miriam brought back the washing, still warm, smelling clean. “They said they’d send the bill. It’s probably going to be pretty expensive because there was so much of it, and they had to use the dryers, especially for the duvet and stuff, but look at them now.” She held up the pillows. “Stained and ugly, but at least they’re not dirty anymore, right?”

She dusted the bare mattress with bicarb, rubbing it in a little, turned the mattress over, did the same on the other side. “Let’s just give that a minute to do its job,” she said, then went to the cupboard, sorting through the mess, making a pile of old receipts, empty water bottles, other bits of rubbish. Deidre sat in the chair, watching as Miriam wiped out the shelves with her hand and organized the clean, folded clothes onto them.

“This is something you can do by yourself, you know. You have the time and you definitely don’t need help to keep your cupboards tidy. Anyone can do it.”

“I know, it’s just, it’s this place. I hate it, it doesn’t feel like home to me, so why should I keep it tidy?”

“Don’t talk rubbish. It’s not only here. Things were just as bad at the old house, that place was terrible, the way you lived. You never cleaned there either. You’re too lazy.”

But it had been too difficult on her own, after her dad died, after Monica left. Dishes stayed dirty, scattered throughout the rooms, clothes lay where they fell. Long clumps of dust dragged through the house, most of them accumulating at the far end of the passage, near the kitchen. Outside, the grass grew long, then withered in the drought. The hydrangeas and roses died. Figs and guavas rotted on the ground, bringing flies and rats. When the lawyer had come about the house, he’d looked around, seen how it was, and went to call Social Services, asked for their help. An inspector came next, going through the rooms with the lawyer, saying quietly to him, “Classic case of neglect.”

“That’s right,” she’d wanted to say from where she’d been following behind them. “I’ve been neglected.”

Still, the shame as they led her into her mother’s bedroom later, to “show you her condition,” to explain why she had to be removed as soon as possible. As though she hadn’t already known. As though she hadn’t been living in this waste and dirt with her for years. “Nobody helps me,” she’d said.

She turned away from Miriam. “Don’t start with that again.”

“I’m just saying you can be cleaner and tidier. Like, do your bedding once a month instead of once a year. This place has a good water recycling system for washing, so it’s possible. And then just do little bits in the week, like underwear and small things so that you can stay on top of it. I mean, it’s not easy, the way things are with the drought, but it’s not impossible.” She went to the

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