Currents

Three ~ Judgement

Three ~ Judgement

Mum's an event planner, which is the ideal job for her considering she loves planning my life for me. When she's not helping Dad with the marketing aspects of the business, she's organising glamorous parties for anyone who can afford her extortionate fees. I'd only been to one of these events, and after embarrassing the whole family, I hadn't been invited to another.

It had been part of a campaign for a local politician running for Mayor of London, and Mum was more flustered than usual. This wasn't just a wealthy client; this man could end up responsible for our city.

She'd taken me to her favourite designer to have a dress specially made and had ordered a pair of bespoke stilettos from Italy. The outfit probably cost more than our Bentley, but this event was important to Mum, and she wanted it to be perfect.

The fear of messing it up for her followed me around all evening. Alastair accompanied me, but even his calming influence couldn't soothe my nerves, despite his best efforts. Whenever he noticed me faltering in a conversation, he would seamlessly take over and lead it in a new direction that relieved the pressure on me. He was outstanding in social situations, and I often wished I could be more like him.

Towards the end of the night, the politician gave his speech, and I finally allowed myself to relax, leaning against Alastair's shoulder as we listened. When everything began to wrap up, my mood lightened, and I had an extra bounce in my step. I'd done it. I'd got through my first real social event. Mum had created an amazing evening, and everything had gone as she'd hoped.

Then I ruined it all.

As I was heading back through the garden, I stumbled in my handmade Italian stilettos and reached out to steady myself. It happened so quickly, and yet the memory of it was engraved in my mind, allowing me to relive the humiliation time after time.

The woman I'd grabbed was the politician's wife. Her red wine had spilt down the front of her cream satin gown which, according to my mum, did cost more than our Bentley.

After that, I didn't join my mother at any of her events—only family occasions, where the pressure was off. She never explicitly banned me, but it was an unspoken assumption between us.

"I've told you, the colour of that dress didn't suit her at all," Alastair said to me down the phone as we reminisced over that fateful night. "She needed the splash of red. You did her a favour, Rosa."

"I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but I'm scarred for life. If Mum makes me go to this wedding, I might have to fake sickness."

I'd been in North Carolina for almost a week, and Mum had been dropping hints about me being invited to the wedding she was planning. It was the reason we were spending the summer in America, and as much as I hated being away from my friends, I hated the idea of a potential social event more.

"You're going to need to get over this fear at some point," Alastair told me. "You can't avoid these things for the rest of your life."

"It's not events in general. Just my mum's. The family name is in the spotlight because she's organised it, so I feel under pressure to appear exactly how my parents want me to appear."

"Just be yourself. And relax. It's not for a while, anyway, is it?"

"No." I sighed. "I've got all summer to worry about it."

He chuckled. "You'll be fine, Rosa. I have full faith in you."

Silence fell, and I trailed my fingers along the balcony's edge as I gazed across the ocean. Alastair was on the other side. All that water separating us.