Getaway

Chapter 22

“Forgiveness is important to remember,” Mum told me.

“Mum, why don’t we talk to Uncle Oliver?” I asked.

I thought back to the man who used to give me piggy-backs when I was younger, who used to read me fairytales. I knew the exact reason Mum had stopped us from talking to him, I just wanted her to remember.

“What he did was wrong,” she said.

“And he said it was a mistake, that he knew that.”

“Are you saying what we did was the same thing?” she asked defensively.

“I’m saying it might as well be.”

“You nearly broke your arm because of him,” Mum reminded me.

“I accidentally fell of my bike when he was there,” I corrected her.

“He wasn’t holding onto you right,” she pointed out.

“My point is you both hurt me, he just left more physical proof.”

“So what?” she asked, “you’re just not going to let my son talk to me anymore, I’m pretty sure it’s not you who gets to make that decision, that’s down to your father.”

“It is,” I replied calmly, “and I’ll let him make the decision but I’m sure he’ll make the right one.”

“How come you have so much faith in your father and so little faith in me?” she asked.

“Because he wasn’t the one that left,” I reminded her.

“But he was never there for you before I left,” she shouted.

“He was there, he may not have been there all the time but he was there. You haven’t been there at all.”

“So what, the past few months of his supporting you makes up for all those years he chose work over you and yet I make one mistake, go away so I can figure some things out and that’s it.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” I said frustrated, “I’m just saying that I can’t forgive you for this easily. You can’t just waltz in here and expect everything to go back to how it was.”

“That’s not what I’m expecting,” she replied.

“It sure as hell seems like it.”

“I’m expecting you to forgive me Eleanor,” she told me.

“Really mum,” I said, “because it seems like you want me to forget this little... blip and just carry on as if nothing happened.”

“Well...” she began.

“Exactly,” I said angrily, “and I can’t do that Mum. I can’t just let this go, it’s not fair on me or dad or Kyle.”

Just as I finished my sentence the door opened to reveal Dad looking confused.

“What’s going on here?” he asked.

His gaze flickered over towards where my mother stood and I watched as his expression became surprised before being replaced by one of distance, a cold shield falling into place.

“Catherine,” he said simply.

“Andrew,” my Mum replied icily.

The tension in the room was thick, and the air felt like soup. It wasn’t helped by the silence of the house or the fact that I was aware that Kyle was up in his room, probably listening to Mum and I shout at each other and unsure of what was going to happen.