The Aristocrat

They call it hard home times

Friday 5th 

In the lift of the hotel I leant with tiredness against the mirrored wall. My head hung low and my shoulders sagged. Back from a day of shopping with Ivy and Fleur my body was aching, and my fingers killed under the weight of my bags straps. I listened with eagerness to the sound of the elevator dinging on each floor until it was finally my stop and the doors slid open. Strolling out I sighed a breath of relief at the sight of my front door.

With great struggle I managed to get the door open and myself inside, dropping the shopping bags instantly and waving my fingers to regain circulation in them again. The lateness of the day took its toll on the apartment, quietness engulfing the hall and a dimly lit atmosphere present. The only noise there was, was a low hum of wordless music vibrating out of the living room ahead. I guessed it would have my mother, a reason I snuck mutely down the hallway in attempts to get to my room unscathed.

But just as I reached the bottom of the staircase, her voice called out and I was beckoned to the living room, "Alessendra."

"Yeah?" I answer her, not moving from my spot in hopes she'd let me just slip away.

"Alessandra," Her voice was cold and strict, and I wondered what I had done wrong this time, "Please come in here please."

"But mum –," I began to protest but she shortened my speech.

"Alessandra," my mother said firmly, "Now."

I moved slowly, dragging my body to the frame of the living room. In there was my mother, a stern frame to her body and a stressed expression on her face. Beside her on the sofa was Robert, his arm discreetly wrapped round her, "What's wrong? Has something happened?" I asked, taking note of my mother's hard -hearted aura.

"Andra," She spoke up, staring at me coldly from across the room, "I think we need to have a serious conversation."

"About what?" I questioned taking one small cautious step inside the living room, "Is it about dad?"

"Your father?" She echoed my question, quick confusion sweeping across her for a moment, "No, Alessandra this is about you."

My brows knitted together in confusion and I wavered on the spot, "What about me?"

"We need to speak about you keeping things from me," She said as calmly as she could without losing her cool. I rarely ever saw her angry, but in that moment, I could sense the rage boiling underneath the surface, her hard eyes gave it away.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you sneaking around with this Hollis boy," She answered my question and leant forward as she revealed the truth,

"How did you-," I opened my mouth to defend myself, but my confusion and nerves had me stuttering out sentences, "I've not been sneaking around."

"Is lying about who you're going out with and where not sneaking about?" She retorted sarcastically, her bitter tone digging in at me.

"I don't see wha-," I reformed my sentences but only got a few words out before she was cutting me short.

"I thought with all the time you'd been spending out recently," she started to explain herself, rising up from her spot on the sofa and taking an angry stance up, "And with you being so secretive that you had been trying to mend things with Thomas away from all the pressure of everyone else."

"I've told you hundreds of times Thomas and I are just friends now," I said frowning my own irritated scowl back at her.

"Yes, well I was hoping you'd see sense," She breathed roughly, her inner anger scratching desperately to get out.