After lunch I felt at loose ends and roamed about the little flat.
It suited us well enough when Mother was with me, but now that I was by myself it was too large and I’d moved the dining table into my bedroom.
That was now the only room I used; it had all the furniture I needed: a brass bedstead, a dressing table, some cane chairs whose seats had more or less caved in, a wardrobe with a tarnished mirror.
The rest of the flat was never used, so I didn’t trouble to look after it.