TITLE DEED
I started to make headway in the rubbish. I sorted them out in three piles: true rubbish to be collected by the waste disposal, the pile for charity and the rest to keep. It was exhausting work and it did not make it easy when Mum came down and started asking nonsocial questions. “Now, would you be able to go through the rubbish again and see if you haven’t accidentally thrown out the title deed,” said Mum, oblivious to all the hard work that I have done.
“Why don’t you do that yourself? I have no idea what a title deed looks like,” I said, trying to pretend that I was totally stupid.
“Don’t give me that Tam. Just look for it as I cannot sell the house without it,” said Mum. “Now I will make you a cuppa and let me know if you have found it.”
I looked once again and I could not find it. Then, I went upstairs to have a cuppa and Mum asked “Did you find it, Tam?”
“No Mum, I could not,” I faltered. “Now is my time and I am going to finish off my paper.”
“Well, I have just spoken to Dan and he wants to fax you details on how to fill out a new application for the title deed.
“Well my fax is broken down and he can dictate to me over the phone,” I said.
“You know Dan has pride in his work and doesn’t want to have the details confused,” said Mum.
“Who says that I am incapable of taking down a few notes,” I wailed.
“Now take it steady, Tam. Is there something wrong with you,” asked Mum, knowing full well she was well and truly getting on my blasted nerves.
“Well, you can do that yourself then, smartarse,” I said.
“Now Tam, you know that Dan is prominent in his work and it is wise to follow his directions.”
“Oh okay. When does he want it done, Mum,” I barked.
“Tomorrow and I will give you the money,” said Mum, smirking.
The next day it was cold, wet and raining, but despite my protests, I had to fulfill Mum’s requirements to pay for an ad as the title deed was missing. Once I was done completing all the rigmarole and paying the receptionist, I walked out and went to class. Then, Mum phoned me in the middle of class for something, but I switched my mobile off and promptly forgot about it as after class I had to do a few hours work.
After work, I arrived home to a hostile reception from Mum. “Tam, I have been ringing you all day and you don’t even pick up the phone,” barked Mum.
“Well the world does not evolve around you and your damn house,” I said, not giving a damn.
“Well, I just need the shed’s stuff to be sorted out as the bloke is coming to pick it up at the end of the week,” said Mum gruffly.
“Well, you have to consider my work and classes, Mum,” I said, feeling well and truly cheesed off.
“Dan told me that you can do your course online and that you can do a few hours for him instead of working for that shonky café,” indicated Mum.
“It is really none of anyone’s business where I work or study, but my own, and just tell Dan I am not interested in working for him. I would rather beg on the street than take his blasted orders,” I said flatly.
“Oh, is that so, Tam,” smirked Mum.
“Yes, that is so, smartarse,” I said as I slammed the door, whishing I could just vanish into thin air and not have to deal with this family ever again.
A few days later, Dan was ringing up about problems with the deed application. We would now have to go to the land titles office to fill in some forms. “Okay then, tell Dan to email me the details and I’ll put them on the form,” I faltered.
“No he wants to fax the details, but your fax isn’t working…so I have suggested the local post office, Tam,” said Mum.
“No Mum, Dan can email me the details…keep it simple, stupid,” I barked at her.
“Tam, are you trying to sabotage my sale of my house,” smirked Mum.
“No but you and Dan are deliberately making it difficult on me when you are fully well aware that I have my own work and study to do,” I faltered trying to stand up for my rights but not succeeding.
“Poppycock Tam, those few classes and work you do. Dan says that you have more than enough time to fit in what he wants,” Mum stated seriously.
“Oh, is that so, and do I get paid for it,” I retorted, becoming quite fed up with her smart aleck remarks.
“Are you trying to be a bitch to Dan and I,” said Mum with a smug face. “I just don’t understand you and frankly I blame your father for allowing you to behave in such an appalling manner.”
“Well the same could be said about Dan. That bloody shitface,” I said as I went to my room feeling downcast and deflated.
Over the next few days, in between work and classes, I managed to tidy up the shed. That was on top of Dan constantly ringing up Mum and telling her what he wanted. Mum was following his requirements to a tee without any thought to the ramifications of her actions.
“Now, the man from the charity is coming tomorrow, Tam. Would you mind staying home until it is collected,” asked Mum innocently.
“Yes, in fact, I do mind as I have an extra tutorial and have to work,” I lied, hoping to put her in a position.
“Really? But Tam, you never work Fridays,” said Mum seriously.
“This week I have to,” I bluffed, “but I will be home when my shift finishes, which is around lunch time.”