I looked all over, but still I could not find her. I was not worried. She could be out walking. She did that often, saying the air sped into her mind and tugged her thoughts into order. She often lost track of time whilst walking.
But still, it was lonley in this cottage whithout her. I noticed her absense whilst I cooked my fish, slicing them first and taking out the bones before placing them in a pan. Then I prepared some carrots, slicing the black bits off and chopping them up so small that she wouldn't be able to tell. Mother was more picky than the fussiest toddler when it came to food, and could not cook bread speared on a stick in a fire.
I lit the fire, crumbling up some old newspaper and then adding more sticks and then logs untill it was a roaring blaze. However, by the time I had finished cooking it had dulled to embers. I placed Mother's meal in a metal container and placed it into the centre of these embers whilst I ate my own.
When she still had not returned I moved the tin and heated up the fire stoking it untill it roared, opening all the curtains and lighting many candles in case she had become confused in the storm.
Still she did not return.
After the storm passed I put my boots on and packed a rucksack with bread, blankets, spare clothes, a hot drink and a large tarpaulin. This I then slung on my back over my enourmous overcoat, grabbed a light and headed out.