The Aristocrat

They call it chilled absence

Friday 23rd 

By the time Christmas came around so did family traditions and I soon found myself trudging through snow, lugging a heavy suitcase behind me. My brothers wadded through the white slush with me, weighted too with their own luggage. My mother on the other hand, strolled elegantly ahead, a handbag rested casually over her shoulder and her hands free. She cruised her way up the untrodden path and hopped onto the decking that surrounded our family lodge.

She spared us behind no second glances, but she did pull a key from her bad and hastily unlocked the front door, which I was grateful for. In all but a matter of seconds I was climbing the steps myself and clambering inside behind her. There was no heating on yet but compared to outside the lodge was inviting, the warmth sobering through my clothes and into my bones.

The boys weren't far behind me either, dragging their suitcases in as quickly as they could and slamming the door behind them. With the cold shut out, our mum finally spun on her heels and took us in with our rosy cheeks and colds hands.

She sighed in seeing the puffing states that we were, "I knew we should have just stayed at the hotel," She stated, walking down the long hallway of the lodge and cranking up the heating dial that hung on the wall.

"This is fine mum," Oliver insisted, rolling his jacket off his shoulders and hanging it up on a hook beside the door.

She said nothing in return, merely shrugging her shoulders with stubbornness and sauntering away in the direction of the kitchen. Oliver, Caspian and I all shared brief, agitated glances before dispersing ourselves across the lodge. Caspian headed upstairs, juggling as many suitcases and bags as he could. Oliver disappeared into the living room, switching on a TV and turning up the volume to drown out the silence that echoed throughout the house. I followed the way mum had gone, stepping into the kitchen to find her hovering in the middle of the room.

Her grey coat had been discarded onto the back of island's stool and she then stood in a thick posh jumper and black trousers. Her phone was positioned tightly in one of her hands and with the other hand she untightened her scarf and placed it on top her coat. Both hands went to the phone then and she typed into it furiously fast. Her eyes stared down in hard concentration and her lips set in a thin tough line.

"Everything ok?" I asked her, hesitating in the frame of the door.

Her eyes lifted from the screen at the sound of my voice and with challenging effort she managed to soften her expression and lift the edges of her lips upwards, "Of course," She assured me. She dropped her phone with distain into her bag and crossed her arms tightly across her chest.

My mouth dried as I paused for a moment before continuing to question her, "What's wrong?"

Her brows furrowed and shoulders shrugged upwards as she attempted to form a puzzled expression in front of me, "Nothing."

"Are you su-," My sentence was cut short as Oliver strolled into the kitchen, shuffling past me in the doorway. He made direction for the fridge but in noticing the two awkward stances of me and our mother, he stopped. His feet paused and his eyes flickered between the two of us.

"What's wrong?" He asked, directing the question at both of us but settling his sight on our mum.

She shuffled under his gaze, puffing and huffing as she was forced to answer him, "I just told your sister that nothing is wrong," She winded with annoyance, uncrossing and crossing her arms.

"Is it Dad?" Oliver guessed, brows furrowed as he tried to drag the truth out of her, ~Haven't you heard from him?"

"Of course I've heard from him," She bit back, throwing her eyes up towards the ceiling and strolling around the kitchen stiffly. She moved towards the sink and grabbed a tumbler, filling it with water and sipping it down.