Eternally Ours

2- Trust Me You Have Good Genes

I manage to get out of my English class with just a quick goodbye to Jack but I was gone before he was able to say anything else to me. I walked out of the door and still haven't looked back, to nervous that he'd be there. As I walk further down the road towards the laundrette I catch a glimpse of my mum, still in her work clothes as she leans against the wall, most likely day dreaming about something or other. I speed up my pace to quickly catch up to her, and as soon as I get close to her I fling my arms around her, but she is not alarmed in the slightest as she turns herself around to fling her arms around me also. "My baby!"

"Hey Mum how was work?" I ask when we finally pull away, I really do have the best Mum in the world.

"Not to bad today hun, how was College?" She says that work wasn't bad but the bags under her eyes begs to differ- my mum has been surviving on her own working her arse off because we only had her income unlike most people that leave near us who have two set's of wages to rely on each month. Her mum and dad died before I was born so the only family we had in this world was my great nan, although I never really knew her. So money was sometimes tight but I had a weekend job working at the cafe with Sam, it wasn't very good pay- but it was something. Not that my Mum would ever take anything from me, no matter how hard I pressed her to take it.

"It was fine, there was new boy in today though." Her head whips round and a smile plastered on her face, uh oh.

"Is he good looking?" Of course she would say that, one thing for sure Elizabeth Turner had her priorities in order, maybe not the correct order but in an order nether the less. 

"Mum it is not like that, yes he's good looking, but he's a massive flirt- plus I'm not pretty enough and he smokes." She starts to shake her head at me her face no longer playful.

"Don't you ever think that your not pretty enough, trust me you have good genes! Where's he moved from?" My mum questions.

"He used to live in Shoreditch. His parent's got divorced and he and his mum moved here, so not too far." We continue the walk to my great nan's house talking about my mums day and any random rubbish that pops into our heads. My great nan died a few months ago and left my mum and I the house, but as the only family member she had its been hard for mum to come and sort out her things.

We soon approach the house and my mum riffles through her bag for the keys. The house isn't much different from ours, it is a typical London terrace house, the paint on the window ledges and the doors are in a desperate need of being redone and the flowers that stand on either side of the house  are all dead. The house is very under kept, she lived alone and was old so there wasn't much she could do- she was a very private woman, generous and kind but I never really saw a lot, mum would just go round there to clean while I was at school. She spent the majority of her later life at the coast so we never saw much of her but I know that her and my mum used to speak a lot on the phone.

My mum finally manages to get the old door open after fumbling around in her bag for the keys. Apart from the house being in desperate need of a paint on the outside, you would still think that someone still lives here.

"Erm shall I start upstairs and you do the down? or you do up and I do down?" I perch down on the sofa arm and look around the living room. The wallpaper has a very 1960's pattern, with copies of famous paintings all around the house. Pictures are also displayed everywhere, on the side tables, the walls and on shelfs, each one is more that just a picture- it's a memory, a story, all individually important. I have always felt that way about pictures it is true that a picture paints a thousand words.

One that is hung on the wall in front of me really catches my eye. I, not so gracefully, get myself up of the sofa and walk over to the picture so I can get a better look. It is a black and white photograph of a girl, who I am guessing is my great grandmother, laughing in what looks like a dance hall wearing the most beautiful dress, looking like she didn't have a care in the world. The dress is what really caught my eye, it had a flared skirt and a tight waist, a dark fabric cascading down like a waterfall, with an even darker halter neck straps and frill, which complimented the dress so well and gave it an extra touch that still kept to the simplistic style but was really elegant.