I pulled in to the driveway and stepped out of my car, dreading the conversation I was about to have with my mother.
The door opened and she stood there, dressed head to toe in cream Givenchy, hair coifed into a chignon. She always looked as if she had stepped off a catwalk my mother, she definitely was the epitome of glamour.
“Darling. Lovely to see you! You look rather unwell though, dear.” She eyed me up and down. “Why are you dressed so …. so shabbily, dear?” Her brows attempted to frown, but the Botox forbid them from doing so.
I think mama would like it if I too decked myself out in designer gear and paraded around the house like some sort of extra from Vogue.
“Mother, nice to see you.” I couldn’t hide the hint of sarcasm in my voice as annoyance and nerves got the better of me. My heart stuttered, causing me to take a deep breath in. I had no idea why I was nervous because she frankly didn’t give a hoot about me. I received the occasional text and that was usually to tell me about her most recent purchase, or the latest holiday that she booked. She certainly wasn’t one for keeping in touch or returning calls in a hurry.
“I need to talk to you about my plans.” The words burst out of my mouth hurriedly.
“Ah, I see.” she half smiled drily as she sauntered towards the lounge and indicated with her well-manicured nail for me to follow her.
“I’ve taken a job in Germany and I leave tomorrow.” I waited and watched her as silence filled the air instead of words. A slightly raised eyebrow was all she could muster, but her expression was one of disdain.
“Well. Say something, mother!”
“Ok, darling, if that’s what you want.”
Darling? If that’s what you want. I was suspicious because she was being far too reasonable. Usually, I would expect a lecture and hear how ‘disappointed my father would be’.
“I’m heading off on a little holiday to France and the Mediterranean next week so we will both be having an adventure. I will probably be gone several months.”
And there it was. No doubt one of her male admirers would be funding the trip, but I didn’t care, I just wanted out of this country and as far away from Luke as I could get. I grabbed a few things from my bedroom that I left behind for the rare occasions that I stayed over and I said goodbye to my mother. She waved her hand in a vague gesture of farewell as I left, while continuing to chat on the telephone to one of her chums. I always felt sadness wash over me like a wave when I left her. Sadness for the relationship that I knew we would never have and sadness for the relationship I would have liked. The reality of my solitude weighed down on me as if I were wearing a leaden overcoat, and it made me miss my father even more. I felt a stab of pain in my heart that pushed the air out of my lungs with such force that it stopped me in my tracks. I wondered, not for the first time, if it were true that people could die of a broken heart.
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