A short story. A coffee break/time length fiction.

Just the right length short story to read in a coffee break.

Elsie dare not look away from the clock it was one of those old fashioned looking ones that ticked loudly. It ticked so loudly that she felt as if the sound of it followed her round the room. Walking over to the mantle piece she opened up the back of the clock; it had a small arch shaped door and you had to slide the brass knob on the door to release the catch and open it. She had often struggled with it and now she did again, her fingers were old and clumsy with arthritis. When she was a small child the difficulty had been in grasping the door tightly enough to pull it open, but not tugging it so hard to open it that you made the clock slide across the sideboard and onto the floor. She hated the clock but would have felt guilty if she had damaged it.

Seventy years and she hated the clock more than ever but had never been brave enough to give it away. Her father had loved that clock. Life took some odd turns she mused over this thought, while she prepared a cup of tea for herself, deciding it would probably be her last.

Well if not, maybe the last decent cup of tea she would ever drink. She emptied the tea leaves into that little compost caddy thing her grand-daughter had given her last birthday. Odd how things went full circle she had been in charge of tea leaves and compost making as a child. She wet the pot, and chuckled at the thought that it might take on a different meaning in future. While the tea was resting or brewing or as her Nan would have said mashing she nipped through to the spare room to check her bag was okay.

On top of the small suitcase were her slippers, dressing gown and brush and comb.

She clicked the bag shut and went down to drink the tea so that she had time to savour it while she still had the chance. Elsie decided to ‘push the boat out’ and finish off the pack of biscuits in the back of the cupboard that she kept there for visitors. Not that she had them everyday, or even every week, but the biscuits were there just in case.

She laid her coat and shoes out in the hallway ready to go. Looking at them draped over the chair she thought about going with out a coat, because she would not have much use for it in future. Then she decided to take it anyway as the cabs that took you to places like that were always cold and she might have to walk quite a way to the reception desk. She had been trying not to think about it but now she did her stomach twisted in a knot.

There was a knock on the door, old fashioned but Elsie did not like doorbells. She looked around the bungalow ,her home for all these years and wished she could stay here. They were knocking on the door again waiting impatiently to take her away her eyes filled with tears as she made her way to the front door.

“Are you ready Gran?” Sandy her bubbly granddaughter grinned at her. Well it was alright for her, she was going to have to go through this ordeal at her age was she.

“Shall I get your case, Gran?” Elsie nodded and pointed to the spare room. Elsie was left staring at an odd character struggling up the garden path.

“That’s Peter my friend who is going to take care of the place for you.”

A young man with rather to long hair for Elsie’s liking was walking towards her front door with an enormous suitcase in one hand and a lead to a skimpy little dog in the other.

“You never said anything about your friend being a man and bringing pets to live here.” Elsie muttered.

“Gran, Peter and Mable will guard the house for us.” Sandy did her apologetic smile and Elsie thought it still had that cheeky edge to it that she had noticed when Sandy was a toddler.

“Shall we go Gran. Come on, you know it’s for the best.” Elsie wondered who it was the best for as she was bundled into the car.

Thirty minutes later the cab stopped by the kerb and the driver got her suitcase out of the back. Elsie looked at the large brick and glass building in front of her it was bustling with people arriving and departing.

She could feel one of her headaches coming on,

“Who said it was a good idea to do this now? She asked Sandy.

Sandy smiled as she carried her Gran’s suitcase into the building, negotiating her through the revolving door after she had gone around twice when the button of her coat got hooked up.

“I cannot be doing this at my age” Elsie stopped and turned to face Sandy.

“Well I want you to fulfil your promise and try.” Sandy walked on slowly waiting for he old lady to follow…”You’ll know regret it if you do n’t.”

Elsie looked at the queue at the check in desk…

“I’ve always been afraid of flying, and you expect me to go to Australia for your wedding!”

“Gran I cannot help it if I want to go home to get married can I?”

Elsie looked at her “I am sorry, I am going home, now all I have to do is find that nice young man who drives the cab he will help me.”

At that moment a woman pushed past Elsie and Sandy and enquired brusquely

“Well are you in the queue for the flight to Australia or not?”

She must have assumed the answer was not. For seconds later she pushed in front of them.

Elsie snatched her bag out of Sandy’s hand and stepping forward squared her shoulders and said

“Actually we are in the queue we are flying out to Australia together for my Grand daughter's wedding next week.”