If you want the truth, I’d never really liked Aunt Lavinia. Nobody had. She was a bit of a black sheep in our family.
Lavinia was actually Dad’s aunt. She had never married, but she went everywhere with that stupid cat.
Who brings a cat in a carrier basket to her brother’s funeral?
She brought the mangy thing to Granny’s house for Christmas, too.
Granny was not pleased.
I say ‘cat’, but in fact it was a series of cats.
When I was little, it was Marmaduke, an overweight ginger tom. After he passed away, Aunt Lavinia procured Matilda, who was black with a white bib.
More recently, she had moved on to Mateus, an ugly, fluffy thing she had encountered while on holiday in Portugal, and whom she had…
