Lottie - a short story

Lottie! Look at you. Hold on, let me get that. Oh dear oh dear. There. Much better. I love it when you sparkle, you look darling.

You just look so handsome – I don’t know how you feel about being called handsome, but you are!

Now where were we? Nine across, four letters. ‘Snare’...

...Drum? Isn’t it Lottie? Course you were just about to say it, course you were.

‘Au courant.' Two words, two letters...a currant? Or cooraaant?... I know it’s second letter is O...unless we got that one wrong. That’d be just like us! Doing a crossword and getting the first one wrong!

Sometimes I can hear you Lottie. Like then I thought I heard you. I thought I heard you laugh. You must think I’m some mad old woman but that’s probably not news to you!

...I didn’t hear it then. Suppose it wasn’t as funny, who died and made you the Pope of taste?

I’ve always felt that in this room, especially when I come in the morning, and I’ve just put the teabag in my mug, and I look through the doorway and I see you up there. The light shining on you. Looks marvellous.

I look at you. While the kettle boils, I look at you. I think about how you’re here. You never left and you’re still here. And I’m not saying like get out like I want you gone. I just feel so lucky.

Today we were counting the pennies again from service, Roger oh he makes me laugh. Cheeky sod, he said ‘why you got all that clobber on?’ And I laughed and told him that I like to feel nice, is that a crime Roger? Is it?! And he said, ‘it’s a crime such a young woman like yourself would be alone on a Friday night!’

Oh, he does make me laugh, Roger...but I thought of you...I’m not...You’re here aren’t you. Obviously I know you’re not, I’ve not gone mad. But I do hear you laugh but not in a mad way, in a nice way.

It’s sort of strange – I feel...like a strange...in the house. I don’t know. A strange sort of thing. And it’s been so long Lottie. Just so long. I’m not remembering it the way I want to. It’s all sort of melting away like – oh I don’t know what like. I miss you Lottie.

When the sun shines on you in the morning through the bay window I just see all these marvellous patterns falling off you. You look splendid. I love feeling that, I love feeling you looking splendid...gosh look what you’ve gone and done...why’d I even bother with the makeup ey?

You’re going to think I’ve gone barmy. But I think about putting you in my tea sometimes. In the morning when you look so gorgeous, I think about walking over – I’d bring my tea to you of course I was raised with manners.

And I bring my tea over and I take the lid off and I’d get just a little bit and I’d put you in my tea like demerara sugar or something! And I’d use soya milk just like you like, I only have the hard stuff as a treat, and I’d swirl it round and I think it’d be nice.

I think it’d be nice to be in the tea. It’s warm. And I’d...it’d be so warm.

...did you...what?...You...oh Lottie – you make a daft old woman feel so – bless you Lottie. Bless you.