I had just finished doing the washing up when mum entered the kitchen and put a dirty cup on the sideboard. Why is there always something that appears just as you are drying your hands?
Mum rested her head on my shoulder as I washed up the cup and dried my hands again on the tea-towel.
‘So you’ve got everything packed, and you know where your passport is?’ She asked, again.
‘Yes, mum, for the third time,’ I said, ‘all packed, passport ready and cash changed up.’
I put the tea-towel to the side and turned to face her; I could see the sadness and worry on her face.
‘I just don’t want you stressing out later when things aren’t where they’re supposed to be,’ she said, putting her arms around me and pulling me close, ‘and your tablets, did you get to the doctor’s for more tablets?’
‘No, mum,’ I replied, ‘I’ve stopped the tablets. I wanna try and do this on my own.’
I love my mum, although if you knew half the shit that I’d put her through these last few years, you’d be forgiven for thinking otherwise. She’s always been there for me, wasted the last of her savings on unsuccessfully putting me through rehab, had me crying on her shoulder through bouts of depression, and was even the one who found me when I overdosed. I must be draining the life out of her; nobody deserves a break like my old dear.
Going away wasn’t just for me.
‘It’s not too late to change your mind and stay,’ she said, ‘You don’t have to go through with this.’
‘Mum, I’ve quit my job, given up the flat and sold my car. It’s a bit late to be getting cold feet, don’t you think?’
‘I’m just worried about you being all the way out there by yourself.’
‘I know you are. But I don’t want you to worry about me, I want you to start looking after yourself, do some things that you wanna do, for you, you know?’
I stepped back from mum’s embrace and held her gently by the arms, looking into her eyes, and seeing the pain and torture in her soul.
‘I won’t be gone forever, and when I’m back, I’ll be back for good.’
I let go and slowly made my way to the door towards the hallway and stairs.
‘I’m gonna go and pack a few last bits then hit the sack,’ I said, and then turned to see her standing over the sink, wiping a tear from her cheek.
I rested my head against the doorframe and breathed out a gentle sigh. Nobody likes to see their mother suffer the way that she was clearly suffering, but I was the cause of the suffering, and knew that some time away from this sorry excuse for a life that I had built for myself would be a good thing for me, and ultimately a good thing for her, to see me come through it and shine like the younger me that made her proud and gave her the happiness that I see in her eyes when she is playing with Finley.
‘I’ll wake you up before I leave in the morning, mum.’
I left her standing at the sink, no doubt about to examine the washing up I just did, not knowing that I knew she always checked the job I’d done, and Esther’s too when she’d done it. Sometimes she’d redo a few bits. Did she really think we couldn’t take being told our washing up wasn’t up to scratch? I think maybe she thought we’d think she was a bit obsessive compulsive if she admitted it. She really was a little fragile; I’m glad that Esther and Finley would be here when I’m gone, because otherwise this personal project of mine wouldn’t have been an option.
‘Finding Her Feet’ by Jams N. Roses: A contemporary tragedy.
Sample Chapters
1
The three sisters played by the lake, a short walk from the back gate at the bottom of the garden. It was cold, the middle of winter, and the girls were wrapped up as warm as they could be.
Michelle Spencer, the eldest of the three girls at ten years old, had been instructed by their mother to get the nuisance children out of the house so she could have some peace and quiet whilst preparing dinner.
The girls had grown bored of playing with their dolls and teddy bears so amused themselves by throwing sticks onto the frozen lake, seeing who could throw them the greater distance from the shore. A small collection of twigs and small sticks had gathered on the water’s ice blanket, though they were becoming more difficult to see as the sky darkened; only a trace of the winter sun remained.
The twins, Amanda and Samantha Spencer, aged seven, couldn’t throw as far Michelle. It began to agitate Sam, especially as Michelle would mock them and giggle at how feeble they both were.
Amanda found it funny when her big sister teased and laughed at her and her sister, but Sam didn’t look up to Michelle like Amanda did. Sam was a big character in a small frame, and had even screamed at Michelle that she was supposed to be the big sister, that things had muddled up inside their mummy’s tummy, and that Michelle should have been Amanda’s twin.
One joke too many at Sam’s expense had pushed her over the limit. She shoved her older sister as hard as she could, who fell backwards and landed on the hardened grassy patch by the side of the lake. Michelle laughed at her sister’s anger. She was used to seeing it and knew that retaliating wound only wind her up further, so resisted.
However, her laughter stopped when she noticed a small cut on her hand, probably from landing too heavily on a sharp flint that sat beside her. She picked herself up before telling the twins to follow her home.
Amanda still laughed, but unlike Michelle, she didn’t know when best to leave Samantha alone, to let her settle and calm down. Not wanting the fun to stop, Amanda grabbed Sam’s teddy bear from her coat pocket and threw it onto the ice.
‘Stupid,’ shouted Sam.
The twins watched the teddy bear slip along the ice before stopping a few meters from the edge of the shore, and then looked to Michelle for advice on what to do next. But she was halfway to the back gate by then and hadn’t noticed the latest drama to unfold.
‘You better go get it, Amanda.’
‘I’m not getting it. It’s your bear.’
Samantha knew that Amanda was as stubborn as Sam was feisty, and realized straight away that she’d have to get her teddy bear back herself. She took one more look to see if Michelle had seen there was a problem and decided to come back and help, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Careful not to slip over, Samantha took tiny steps onto the ice towards her favourite cuddly toy. She was grateful that the white ice wasn’t as slippery as she’d first presumed, and found herself approaching the bear with ease and confidence.
Amanda looked on as Sam bent down and picked up the teddy bear, then turned and gave a smug grin to the her younger twin sister.
‘Got it,’ she said, as she stuffed the toy back into her pocket.
‘Oi, you two, come on,’ called Michelle from the gate that led through the garden and up to the house.
Michelle saw that the girls hadn’t even started the walk back to the house, but worse than that, she saw that one of her baby sisters had ventured out onto the ice. She started walking back towards the lake.
‘Come on, Sam, it’s getting cold,’ said Amanda.
But Samantha didn’t budge.
‘I can’t move,’ she said, ‘the ice is breaking.’
Sam had heard a crack from beneath her feet, and whenever she tried to slide a foot forward and closer to the shore, another crack in the ice would appear.