In Which Syb Demands A Tea Break


I think I’ve had enough of all this talk of inner mothers. I’d like a nice cup of tea, please.  “But, Mum….”   If I had wanted to talk about my mother’s death, I would’ve done. Now…

 I’d like a nice cup of tea. Please.



My Mother’s Mother

I ask Syb how she feels about her own interior mother… my grandmother. I never met Nana because she was killed during the Second World War and now I realise that this means that I don’t know which bit of Syb is Nana, so to speak.

Syb doesn’t reply of course…


…because I never asked her this question and at the moment I cannot imagine her answer.