{"id":754,"date":"2021-03-17T20:02:46","date_gmt":"2021-03-17T20:02:46","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/?p=754"},"modified":"2021-03-18T17:28:41","modified_gmt":"2021-03-18T17:28:41","slug":"going-to-london","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/going-to-london\/754\/","title":{"rendered":"Going To London"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"Old<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Martha Somers was feeling upset again. She\u2019d been talking to her dog, which was sitting in a corner of the room, saying to it, \u2018Are you hungry? Shall I feed you?\u2019, when this lady had told her it was a toy. \u2018A toy? But I heard him barking,\u2019 she\u2019d told the lady. Then a second lady had come in and said, \u2018Time to change you,\u2019 and had laid hands on her. She\u2019d begun to cry, then shout, and said, \u2018No you\u2019re not! How dare you!\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Next thing she knew she was sitting in an armchair in a large room, and there were strange faces all around, elderly women in armchairs, reclining or sitting upright. Some were asleep, some stared into space, one was muttering to herself. There was a horrible smell like poo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

            \u2018You\u2019ve a visitor, Martha,\u2019 a lady said, and a man approached her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Hello. Are you Stephen?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018I\u2019m Mark.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018You\u2019re my husband, aren\u2019t you?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018I\u2019m your son.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Where\u2019s Stephen? He\u2019s my husband.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Stephen\u2019s your other son.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Martha laughed at the joke. Stephen was her husband, of course. The man asked her some questions about how she was, was the food alright, and did she like it here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018I want to go back to London,\u2019 she told him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018This is London, Mum. You\u2019ve moved house, that\u2019s all.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018But can I go back to London?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018No Mum, sorry. This is the best place for you now.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            A woman brought some red soup which Martha sipped. It tasted like soap. Then she nibbled white bread sandwiches with a scrap of ham in them. Then she became anxious.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018My mum\u2019s expecting me. I\u2019ve got to go home,\u2019 she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The man looked thoughtful, winked, and said, \u2018No need to worry. I\u2019ve rung your mum and told her you\u2019re staying here tonight. She said that was fine.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Did she? Oh, that\u2019s good.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018And maybe we\u2019ll go to London soon.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Oh, I hope so. And will I see Stephen soon?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Stephen\u2019s\u2026 dead, Mum. He died last month.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Stephen? But I saw him this morning. He came to visit me.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Did he? Well, in that case, perhaps he\u2019ll come again tomorrow. Yes, perhaps he will. And he\u2019ll<\/em> take you to London. Would you like that?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018Oh, I\u2019d like that.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u2018We\u2019ll see what we can do then, Mum.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Later on, after the man had gone, she was back in the room with the bed and her dog in the corner. A lady was washing her face for her, and telling her about her home in Africa. Then the lady combed her hair, and held a mirror for her to look at. She saw white hair, a fringe cut crookedly, a pale face with many lines. \u2018Is that me?\u2019 she asked. \u2018It is Martha,\u2019 she was told. \u2018I\u2019m going to London tomorrow,\u2019 she said. \u2018Stephen\u2019s taking me.\u2019 \u2018Your son?\u2019 \u2018My husband, Stephen. He\u2019s taking me home.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The lady smiled and Martha began to sing quietly, \u2018Maybe it\u2019s because I\u2019m a Londoner, but I love London town.\u2019  <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Martha Somers was feeling upset again. She\u2019d been talking to her dog, which was sitting in a corner of the room, saying to it, \u2018Are you hungry? Shall I feed you?\u2019, when this lady had told her it was a toy. \u2018A toy? But I heard him barking,\u2019 she\u2019d told the lady. Then a second […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"rop_custom_images_group":[],"rop_custom_messages_group":[],"rop_publish_now":"initial","rop_publish_now_accounts":{"facebook_10158782359051062_103813597863211":"","twitter_1225722811282530305_1225722811282530305":""},"rop_publish_now_history":[],"rop_publish_now_status":"pending","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"A new story from SWANSEA WRITERS:\n\"Going To London\"\n#FLASHFICTION","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[379,423],"tags":[427,428],"class_list":["post-754","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-379","category-march-2021-lost","tag-going","tag-london"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pbrNJE-ca","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/754","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=754"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/754\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":756,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/754\/revisions\/756"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=754"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=754"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=754"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}