Being in the car with Doug has been tense; thick with his determination to just get to wherever he is now taking me.

There has been little to no conversation with him. As soon as I got in the car, he just put on his music really loudly; which was his way of telling me that he wasn't in the mood for any talking.

Doug hasn't been directly angry at me.

He hasn't been intentionally rude or arrogant with me.

He's just been distantly preoccupied.

Whatever he is doing, he needs to do.

Wherever he is taking me, he needs to take me there.

He's just been very detached; lost in his own thoughts during the whole time he has been driving.

For the past hour, I have been looking out of the passenger window. Which is okay, because I actually quite like being a passenger. It's a chance to be a voyeur to the passing world. At such an awkward time, like the one I currently find myself so emotionally caught up in, it makes the watching of the world passing me by, a much more cathartic way to do it. I have been less focused on Doug, more focused on everything outside of the car and how other people are going about their London lives.

It's only when I happen to notice that we are driving right into Romford, do I become more aware of Doug again. I want to say something when I glance over at him driving, but he still looks so closed off and so intent on getting to his destination, that I just remain quiet.

Instead, I start thinking.

I know that all of this is about his mum. I just know it is.

Soon, I think I am going to find out what exactly has sadly happened between this woman and her son.

**

Turning off a busy road, we are now driving down a concrete driveway, that's only made more pleasing to the eye because of the magnificent oak trees that sporadically line it on both sides.

I cannot ignore the big white sign that I have noticed on the way in: Chestnut Cottage Care Home.

It is there.

I have seen it.

And I have inwardly acknowledged it.

It is then that I look at Doug again, his dark eyebrows now so taut with tension as his mouth remains grimly in a straight line. And it is then that I realise, he is now driving us both into something that he really doesn't want to be. Whether it actually helps or not, I gently place my hand on the top of his; on top of the hand that appears to now be anxiously gripping the gear stick. In the thick silence, I gently squeeze it. I just want him to know that I am here for him. In whatever way he needs me to be, I am here for him.

There's no reaction from Doug.

Just that thick silence that I have become so accustomed to.

In that same thick silence, we are soon parking up right outside of a detached house. The house itself isn't exactly beautiful, but the grounds, and the mature trees and shrubs that surround it, are.

Turning off the ignition, Doug stares ahead of him while he grips and releases the steering wheel. I don't think I have ever seen a grown man look so insecure as he does now.

"We don't have to do this, Doug?" I'm offering him a way out, an easy escape from whatever is troubling him.

But he decides not to take it. "No, you need to understand." Is his firm and stubborn reply back to me.

I find myself softly asking him what I think I already know. "Is this where your mother is?"

Apathetically, Doug starts getting out of the car. As I'm getting out too, he is watching me from where he is standing. "Can we please just save the talking for later?" His voice is lacking emotion, because all of his emotions are now sitting within his pleading brown eyes.

They ask me not to talk.

They ask me not to ask.

They only ask me to follow him inside.

So, I do.

I follow Doug.

I follow him because I'm wanting to understand.

I follow him because I now need those answers.

I follow him because I know I am going somewhere that no one else has ever been before in his life.

**Mallion Interlude 💋**

Things are beginning to unravel, lovelies - your thoughts, comments and hitting that gorgeous star button is ALWAYS appreciated.

The video above is: TROUBLE - OFFAIAH