Just as Detective Whatshisface was turning up to arrest Alf, the doorbell rang. Mr Posy was out buying mince and spices so we could make tacos.
“Of course,” I thought to myself, “The only episode I watch of Home & Away all year, and Mr Posy’s Ma arrives just as everything is about to hit the fan.”
“Mr Posy?” she called.
“Hi. Mr Posy isn’t home.”
“Not home?” She looked down at the plate of food she’d brought over.
“He’s at the shops.”
“Damn,” I silently cursed. “Mr Posy isn’t supposed to be out buying groceries – I’ve just dobbed myself in.”
“At the shops? Okay.” His Ma sat down at the hideous table setting on our front patio, a gift from hers truly.
Huh? I stood awkwardly at the door. What had just happened? Why was she sitting down? I was confused. Should I invite her in? I felt like I was being Punk’d. I started messaging Mr Posy – “SOS. Your Ma is sitting on the front patio. She brought food. She wouldn’t come inside.”
“Miss Po-sy?” she called out. “It’s okay. No Mr Posy? It’s okay. Here. Dinner.” She handed me the plate.
“Thank you,” I smiled sweetly.
“And lunch for Mr Posy.” Out of a nowhere, a bag of bread rolls materialised.