Monday 19th December 2011
I hardly slept all night, not so much thinking about dad, but because Steve was snoring so loudly during most of the night, I was relegated to the sofa. Despite being awake most of the night and packing most of what I wanted to bring with me the night before, I got out of the house too late and after a very brief chat to Mags, my neighbour, I missed train my minutes. I got on the next available train, via Manchester Piccadilly, then realised there are no connecting services from Piccadilly. Then, before I got off the train, a couple of elderly Africans, who where up and down and couldn’t sit still all journey pointed at some rubbish by my feet. The bloke reached down and grabbed the bag I had used to get my tea from the shop and he vomited in it, which splashed a bit on my case.
I marched pretty quickly out of the station and across the city centre in the rain towards Victoria Station. I bought a hot pastie from a Ginster’s shop – peculiar, I thought, and then got on the train to Rainhill. The rain was coming down hard and I called for a cab to pick me up at the station and then thought that Nick might be there meeting me, which he was. We gave each other a big hug and Nick was just about keeping it together.
At home, Nick said there was a house full, with Aunty Tess and cousin Sheila visiting and Aunty Pat had stayed the night last night to keep my mum company. We said hello and goodbye when I got there and they went next door to Pat’s.
Steve told me there was some good help on the direct.gov website, which was actually quite helpful. That evening, mum stayed up quite late and I was desperate for bed so tired from not sleeping the night before. Eventually, mum took the hint and we both went up.
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