Read Memory Scents for Free Online

doors of Poppy Field’s retirement home. He was used to it after visiting his Mother religiously every week for the past eight years.
                  She’d had a series of strokes when she was sixty seven and never fully recovered. The doctors had put it down to the stress of losing her husband and suddenly being on her own. But Tim felt as though it wasn’t the fact that she was ‘being’ on her own, it was the fact that she had to ‘cope’ on her own after a life with a husband who saw to her every whim.
                  Daphne had actually grown up in a working class family with lots of siblings, all living hand to mouth, appreciating every tiny little luxury that rarely came their way. Luxuries that wealthy families took for granted. She didn’t fit into her family at all and they looked upon her as a stranger. They felt that she had ideas of grandeur. There wasn’t much resemblance with any of them, physically or mentally. Daphne held herself differently, daydreamed often and read books, which was unheard of in the household. She came from generations of a repetitive theory, a school of thought that you accepted what you were given, ‘your lot’ as it was so aptly put.
                  The community she lived in frowned at her attitude of wanting to improve her situation. So she was generally an outcast and no one was surprised or pleased when she met Jack Charlesworth, a very wealthy lawyer. They fell in love quite quickly and Daphne fled as fast as she could, not realising that she may have just used Jack as a scapegoat to get away from her circumstances. She loved him, but not as he loved and adored her. As his adoration grew stronger throughout their marriage, Daphne’s love turned into bitter resentment for him. The life she’d spent years wishing for hadn’t turned out to be the one she wanted after all and she made him suffer for it. Money didn’t buy you happiness or put right life’s tragedies, she’d found that out the hard way. But as horrible as she was to him he still loved her, until the day he suffered a massive heart attack in his green house at the unripe age of seventy. Daphne had seen it more as an inconvenience than a tragedy, which was really how she’d treated him their entire married life.
                  But, as Jack had adored her, so did Tim. However frequently she pushed him away, he went running back, seeing her in his younger days as an independent and powerful woman instead of the bitter, twisted person he was to see her as later in his life.
                  And this is where she’d ended up; Poppy Field’s retirement home. She’d more or less recovered from the strokes eight years previously but was deemed too unstable to live alone. Tim thought that a lifetime of being waited on hand and foot had left her fragile and slightly pathetic; a side to her that very few people glimpsed. So Tim had been quite happy to keep her in the retirement home. As much as he adored his Mother, he didn’t want her interfering with his life and spoiling his routine. He had learnt only too well from her that you treated people like you treated your possessions. Getting them out when it suited you and then putting them away when they grew tiresome. So Daphne was safely ensconced in the box that Tim had put her in; boxed with a memory scent like everything else in his life.
                  There was something quite repulsive and sinister about Tim’s relationship with his Mother. He had this sickly sweet affection for her and treated her as one of his prized possessions. He also revelled in the fact that their roles had reversed. It suited Tim very well to have her in a retirement home where he could pick her up and drop her, as she had done to him so often when he was a child. A part of him saw it as payback in the warped little depths of his mind.
                  He remembered so often how his mother went