3 days after my dad's death I was in bed with Van, on a Tuesday morning, staring at the ceiling, as I had been for the past hour or so. Van had called my work for me and said I was sick, as I couldn't face going into work today. I didn't know how to feel about everything that had happened. I didn't necessarily feel sad, there was just a strange hole in me, making me feel uncomfortable and out of balance, like when you lost your favourite teddy bear as a child and every time you slept you felt a strange emptiness in your bed. The realisation that I would never see or hear my father again was a big shock to me, and a very small part of me wished that I had of been nicer to him while he was here, despite all the shit him and mum put me through.
As for my mum, I hadn't spoken to her since she told me the news, and although I still felt hatred and anger towards her, I often wondered how she was coping, or if she even cared at all. The amount of foul, horrible things that she had said to dad in the past made me believe that she wouldn't care, but I think deep down she does. It's like that phrase, "you can't live with them, but you can't live without them."
I suddenly snapped back to reality and looked over to Van, who was already staring at me, a look of concentration in his eyes.
"What are you thinking about love?" He whispered, rolling his body over to face me.
"Everything. My dad, my mum." I mumbled, rubbing my eyes, then turning to Van.
"What are you going to do about it all?"
"No idea, I should speak to my mum but I don't want to. I hate her." I said, anger evident in my words.
"Babe, I know you hate her, I know, but you really ought to see her, it might do you good to talk about it."
I sighed, not wanting to admit that he was right.
"How about you go over there today? I'll come if you want." He said, reaching a hand out and stroking my face lightly. I nodded in defeat and shut my eyes, just wanting to stay in this bed forever.
2 hours later, I was lacing up my trainers and getting into Van's car, about to drive to my house to speak to mum. I felt nauseous as we neared, and nearly threw up as we pulled up outside.
"I don't want to do it." I groaned, looking at Van, hoping that he'd give in and just drive away.
"Come on, just get it over and done with, yea?"
After a few more minutes of Van trying to convince me to get out the car, I finally did, and walked up to the front door, knocking on the door hesitantly.
30 seconds passed with no answer. I knocked again. No answer. I shot Van a confused look before getting on my knees and opening the letter box, peering through.
"Mum! It's me, open the shitting door!"
No answer.
I sighed, and stood back up, rummaging around the bottom of my bag for my house key, which I rarely had to use, as someone usually answered on the first knock.
I pulled out my key and slotted it in, opening the door to an eery stillness in the house. I stepped in, Van following behind me.
"Mum are you in?" I shouted several times, however there was no reply.
I entered the living room to discover that the TV was missing, along with several other vases, ornaments and decorations that were of value.
"What the fuck?" I whispered to myself, as I searched the other rooms in the house, where other items like my mums bed, her TV and laptop were all missing for their usual places. However, everything in my room was left untouched.
Lastly, I went into the kitchen, where the microwave, kettle, and crockery was gone. I stood astounded, confused beyond measure, before my eyes caught sight of an envelope on the kitchen side.
"I'm sorry for everything. Don't try and contact me, I've left.
Mum x"
My eyes welled up, and I opened the envelope to find a huge wad of cash, 10 and 20 pound notes.
"What is it love?" I heard Van say from behind me. I couldn't speak, just stared at the envelope in my hand, reading the note over and over again in my head.
That bitch.
"Kathleen?" He said, stepping towards me.
"Bitch!" I lashed out, throwing the envelope across the room, notes flying all over, "fucking cunt!"
"Fuckin hell," Van whispered, watching as a sea of money carpeted the kitchen tiles. I collapsed onto the floor, absolutely heartbroken that she could just get up and leave in this way, without even giving me an explanation. I knew she was a bitch, but I had no idea she could be this cruel.
Van read the note on the envelope, and then rushed to my side, cuddling me into his chest.
"Oh no no no no," he murmured, both hands holding onto my head and stroking my hair as I cried, in an attempt to soothe me. I cried for what seemed like hours, feeling broken and shattered at the fact that the only family I had left had both disappeared within the same week. Van said nothing, just sat with me, holding me until I was calm.
"It's okay," he whispered, once my sobbing had reduced to light sniffles, "I'm still here."
"Why would she do that?" I mumbled, suddenly feeling extremely tired after crying so much.
"I don't know, love. You don't need her, anyway. Your a strong girl, I know you are." He tried to make me feel better but it wasn't working at all. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just stayed silent, staring at all the money that was scattered on the floor.
"Please don't take this personally." He whispered.
"What?"
"I mean, a lot of people think it's their fault when people leave them, they think they did something wrong, but it's not. Your mum didn't leave because you're a shitty person, she left because she's a coward, and she can't face her own problems. Don't take any of this out on yourself." He spoke, stroking my hair lightly. I stayed silent still, not knowing what to say. A few minutes passed without a word being said.
"I love you."
"What?" I said, sitting up to face Van.
"I love you." He repeated, a small smile tugging at his lips.
I stared at him in awe, not having any idea on how to reply to that.
"I love you." I finally said, making a smile appear on Van's face. I smiled back, kissing him softly.
"Babe, I promise that I'm here for as long as you want me. No matter what's going on around us, as long as I love you and you love me then that's all I give a fuck about, fuck everyone else, yeah?" His eyes held hope, which helped change my emotions of hopelessness.
"Okay." I said, kissing him again.
"Right, let's sort this shit out. I'll get the cash, you go upstairs, get some shit together, you can live with me and Larry until all this is sorted, okay?"
I nodded, managing a small smile, before leaving him in the kitchen to go upstairs to my room.
I pulled a big duffel bag from my wardrobe and placed it on my bed, filling it with clothes, shoes, underwear (the essentials), and some extra belongings that I thought would be appropriate to bring. I felt guilty staying with Van and Larry, but I didn't have anywhere else to stay, I didn't have enough money to pay for this house, and no other relatives that I could call. I was in deep shit.
I returned to the kitchen to find Van sat at the table, counting the cash out.
"There's fucking 2 grand here." He said as I walked in.
"Fuck off," I said in shock, mum must have sold everything to make up for her little runaway, "I'm not keeping it."
Van looked up, confused, "what do you mean? You need this money, Kath."
"I don't want to! I don't need her fucking money! She thinks she can just desert me and give me a load of cash to make up for it, it's not right." I cried, surprised at how Van couldn't understand why I didn't want the money.
"I know why you don't want it, I'm saying you need it, love, please just take it, you need it babe, please. For me. I just need to know you've got some money to keep you going." He pleaded, holding the envelope out. After a few seconds of decision-making, I sighed in defeat and grabbed it, shoving it in my bag.
He smiled lightly and stood up, kissing my forehead.
"Everythings gonna be okay, lass."
I really fucking hope so.
