Ooh look ladies …
… an Inner Father.
I’ve got the tea… perhaps I should magic up a biscuit as well.
“Now you’re being silly, Mum.” Oh…silly, am I? “You’re just trying to put the wind up me.” What do you mean “put the wind up you”? “Sshhh… Mum!” Don’t you “Sshhh” me. You always were a bit above yourself, Missy.
“Mum, stop it. People are staring.”
“I’m sorry, Mum. You can’t drink a cup of tea. You’re dead.”
I like a cup of tea. I’ve always liked a cup of tea. And I want one now. And if I’m dead, I can jolly well do what I want. “No, you can’t.” Yes, I can. “Prove it.” Prove what? “That you can do anything you want now you’re dead. Go on… Make a cup of tea.”
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.