Grandma's broom

Grandma's broom

There was something odd about Grandma's house. As soon as I walked in I got this feeling -an uneasy, wintery chill. Was it to do with the creaky stairs, the bare, splintered floorboards, the draughts and sudden whistling noises that came from nowhere...? I didn't know.

But that wasn't all. In the front room was a large fireplace. Whenever we visited, Grandma would be there, fussing about with the coals - poking, prodding, tutting at, sighing over... everything except lighting them. It was as if, somehow, they needed her close, personal attention. And then there was the small, white cat which materialised every evening at six o'clock. "He belongs to them next door... It's neglect, wicked neglect," she'd say, and stalk into the kitchen to find a can of tuna. But next door's house didn't have a cat flap and we never saw him hunting birds in their garden or grooming himself on their patio.

And finally, there was the broom that sat by the front door, ready for use. One night, my brother tracked some mud across the hallway. When he realised what he'd done, he grabbed the broom to sweep it up.

"Don't you dare use that," shrilled Grandma. "Get the dustpan from under the sink. Never EVER touch that broom."

“Grandma's Broom.” 1000s Of Primary Teaching Resources - Teachit Primary, 25 July 2008, www.teachitprimary.co.uk/resources/y3/structuring-plots-and-planning/writing-composition/grandma-s-broom/8894.