Dulcie Domum (original) (raw)

Once upon a time, there was a boy called Harry who...' No! Wait! Name Harry off-limits, obviously. My agent is expecting me to send him a children's story. I must try - without unfortunate overtones - to think of an animal and a child having an adventure. Come to think of it, that describes with spooky accuracy the early years of my marriage.

I was a mere child when I wed. Sigh over old photo of our wedding. Gordon in loons, kipper tie and yard-long hair, myself in medieval-style Biba gown and panda eyes. If only I was 23 again! I'd cancel the wedding, for a start. Gordon's subsequent marriage - to Elaine - seems to be giving the odd palsied twitch. Perhaps it is not moribund after all. Once it became clear that Elaine's old house and outbuildings might be of interest to a developer, Gordon went off with her to see people about it. When a man says "I could never go back to that bloody woman", it usually means he's just about to.

Aunt Elspeth brings out her photos, too, and pores over curling sepia imagery. "Look, Dulcie: herrre I am on my motherrr's knee." Peer through the shadowy grains of time at teenage girl holding bonny babe. "She was so young." Aunt strokes the image of her mother with an ancient, twig-like finger. Women are like Russian dolls, each containing generations. "I'd give anything to talk to motherrr again." Aunt brushes away a tear. "Perhaps you will, Elspeth."

Intrigued by accounts of near death experiences in which people meet their grannies, then make an excuse and leave, so they can get back to the life of the body. Quite like visiting Granny when she was still alive. Admire Great Aunt in her babyhood, bald in cotton frock. Recall delicious floury, milky smell of babies' heads. Can't wait for grandchild to dandle, or failing that, co-operative ginger kitten.

"Once upon a time there was a little girl called Elspeth..." But then what? I used to be able to write children's stories, when Henry and Harriet were small. But they have made the transition from folksongs to fucksongs. Perhaps when I am a granny I shall rediscover Once Upon A Time. But now, experience sudden urge to clean the windows.

"Mum?" Harriet approaches me as I am shaking the Windolene. We are alone in the kitchen. She leans in close and whispers, "I think I'm, like, pregnant." "What?! Are you sure? Have you done a pregnancy test?" "Yeah, it was, like, positive." Collapse on to chair and gasp violently. "Hey! Mum! No need for stress!" I turn on her: "No need for stress?! Giimmeeaglassawater!" Harriet obliges, looking pale. "Who's the father?" I croak.

Harriet cringes. "It was just an April Fool, Mum. Honest! Right?" Mind reels. "We're all telling our mums, just for a laugh. I didn't know you'd freak out." Give her withering look, and stride out clutching my Windolene. Attempt to remove fossilised deposits of birdshit from windows by frantic scrubbing. Therapeutic after my pregnancy scare. No grandchild yet, thank God! Forget all that about the smell of babies' heads. Give myself aversion therapy by recalling the smell of their arses.

"Mum! Fred's on the phone!" Rush indoors. Perhaps Fred is now recovered enough from his appendix operation to offer me a convalescent weekend in, say, Bath. After thanking me for the flowers and get well card, he hesitates and sounds a bit shifty. "Listen, Dulcie, I'm, er, going to be out of the country for a while. This guy in San Francisco has a gallery and he's in urgent need of a bit of inward investment." Not sure whether this is some gay sex code or a financial deal, but wish him well. "I'll be back one day, never fear!" trills Fred, relieved now he has dumped me.

Hang up pretending I'm relieved. What next? Children's story or housework? Decide to clean the mirrors, though irritated by old hag trying to help from the other side. "Wipe it on, Windolene, Wipe it off, Windolene..." Fragment of folksong haunts the memory. Mirror looks worse than before: bleary and smeary. Realise I have deposited birdshit on it from the windows outside. Sigh, and return, without confidence, to Once Upon A Time...