Chapter Four
I was standing behind her, as she strolled away from me, her only child. She'd just left me with one of her friends. I tried to call for her, but no sound came out of my mouth. I was desperately trying to gain her attention. I ran in front of her, waving my arms frantically in front of her face. I couldn’t let her get away, not this time! I was chasing after her, when I stopped, right in front of my Mum. She passed through me, as though I wasn’t there, like I was invisible. I shuddered. Her ghostly pale face remained still and expressionless. I was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, she had loved me once, but now I wasn’t so sure. Was I so unimportant to her that she could just up and leave?
She’d originally left me outside a door. I looked around; the place was vaguely familiar. The ten little potted plants lined up on the porch window; three blue, purple and white pansies in brightly painted pots either end and three slightly smaller aloe vera. In the middle was a completely unique, individual flower I thought I had never seen, but it seemed familiar, like a face that you know but can't quite put your finger on it. Then it hit me; I suddenly realised that I was thinking of Brian's house.
***
I jumped up out of bed when my phone rang.
“Hello?” I asked. It was unusual to get texts this early in the morning.
“Hi – it’s me.” It was Ron. He sounded worried.
“Oh, hi! Sorry, my phone didn’t recognise your number. What’s up?” I said casually.
“Not much. How are you, though?”
“Fine, thanks; shouldn’t I be?”
“Well…I just thought, you know, ‘cause it’s Jess’ birthday and all…”
I sighed. Of course I knew what day it was. How couldn't I see this coming? It was my best friend's birthday. That is, my ex-best friend.
“Thanks for asking. Got to go.”
We'd made plans to spend the entire day together, starting with a massive shopping trip in London. Then, we were going to a movie premiere together. And finally, a sleepover at her house where we would stay up until the next day and have a midnight feast and all the traditional sleepover-y things. But I guessed that wasn't going to happen, and I didn’t particularly want to be reminded about it, so I hung up.
And I was half right. It did happen, but Tana took my place. I couldn't decide whether I should send her a 'Happy Birthday!' text. I suppose Tana had done that as well.
In a few days time, it would be my Birthday, too. I hated my Birthday. It always reminded me of my Mother; after all, she gave birth to me. That's why we never celebrated it. Well, at least I didn't . Brian never really got me. He wouldn't understand why I wouldn't want to celebrate my 15th Birthday. And he certainly never understood why it would remind me of the woman who gave me up when I was a baby.
I casually glanced to my window, and to my amazement, could see that snow had fallen. I don't know why, but that lifted my mood. Plus the fact I didn't have to see Jess with Tana at school. I stepped outside and stared at the shocking beauty of the surreal white landscape, wrapped in several layers of clothes and wearing my wellingtons.
The swirling of the snow was almost hypnotic, as I stood there in that unfamiliar and somewhat extra-ordinary situation, and somehow encouraged me to delve deeper in to my thoughts and memories, as it felt like the rest of the world lay dormant, and I was in my own, private winter wonderland with no-one to disturb me.
A distant and vague memory of my mother haunted me for the rest of that day. The longing I experienced ached in my heart, and with no way of escaping, just grew and grew in me until I felt that my heart had been shredded into a thousand pieces. I felt so weak, empty and isolated. Especially because there was no-one that really understood me. Not Jess, not even Brian. Sometimes I wonder why he adopted me in the first place. He was so bad with kids.
***
"Brian, I don't want a Birthday." I told him. We were sitting at the kitchen table, eating our rather greasy supper of ribs and chips. He should know I'm a vegetarian. I looked down on my food in disgust, only picking at the chips here and there.
"What do you mean? It's your fifteenth!"
"I just can't see what the fuss is about. If it's all the same, I'd rather we just didn't do anything."
"Why don't you invite that friend of yours round, ... Jenny? Jacky? Stop feeling sorry about yourself and invite her round! That'll be nice." This proves my point entirely. He never listened, he was always too wrapped up in his own life to care about me. He didn't have to deal with the pain I feel every day and night. He was lucky. Mum hadn't left him.
"Jess. And no. If you took an interest in my life you'd know that we are now ex-best friends." Silence.
"Haven't you got any other friends you could have over?" Immediately, and uncontrollably, I blurted out, "Yes!", thinking straight away of Ron. I blushed a deep shade of scarlet. I suppose he really was my only friend in this world.
"Well it's settled then."
So the preparations for my 15th went ahead and, as usual, without any input from me. Banners, photos, the lot. Oh, and let's not forget, it was all in pink. Clearly, I wasn't going to get a say in this , but I had a strangely high morale, and, for the first time felt excited about one of my Birthdays. And, even though I would never admit it to myself, it was because Ron and Kayleigh were coming.
The weeks were a blur, and I was actually feeling happy and positive, for once in my life. Even Brian commented.
"You're surprisingly chirpy this morning." He muttered. I smiled at him.
"Yeah well, I'm looking forward to this Birthday thing." I replied. He did a double take.
"What? Our Cassidy, excited about a Birthday do? Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?" He said with mock horror. I mentally cringed when he called me his daughter. If only I'd known.
"I might actually need to get you some presents then!"
"Oh shush. You know I don't mind. Anyway, this time it's gonna be a Birthday to remember. Birthdays and Christmases aren't all about presents, you know."
Oh really? You never actually told me who you've invited. Did you make up with...Jess, is it?" I gawked. How was I going to explain this...
"Well, there's this person,... and they..." I attempted. He put his hand up parallel to me.
"Whoa, say no more. I know what you're getting at." He winked at me. Oh. My. God. I smacked myself on the head.
"You're a teenager, I understand. So, do you fancy him?" He said calmly. I couldn't believe he was trying the have THE conversation with me!
"No! It's not like that, don't worry yourself!" Deary me! We were just friends, weren't we? It was getting tired at that point.
"Oh, and don't embarrass me, please!" I added. He rolled his eyes.
"What do you take me for?" He said, grinning. This was going to be more difficult than I thought. I decided this was the optimal time to leave, before we got into too much detail. I shuddered. Why do Dads have to be so humiliating?
I realised two things then. One, that I was quite lucky to have a parent figure in my life, no matter how embarrassing or cringe-worthy, and two, I'd never really wondered who my Father was. Always my Mother. How come I'd never speculated that? Who my Dad was? And would it be rude to ask Brian?
I decided not. After all, the worst he could do was not tell me. I wasn't desperate, like I was with Mum. I wondered if he had been someone I'd seen on the street, or on the telly, or at the local supermarket. I wanted to know, to satiate my pondering.
"Brian, can I ask you something?" He nodded from his desk, absorbed with his work. I went for it.
"Who...who's my real Father?" I asked innocently. He swivelled round in his office-like chair with a stunned expression on his face, like I was challenging him or something. The silence that followed made me want to say something.
"I mean, I know you adopted me and everything, but I..." I murmured.
"He was a good man." He said sharply, then continued with his work.
"Did you know him? Do you know him?" I questioned further. He chuckled to himself, like the question in itself was a personal joke to him. I was slightly insulted, but then again, he never took me seriously.
"Of sorts. Are we done here? I have work to do." He said abruptly. He was crouching over something, and looking at it intently.
"I just wanted to know." I said, defensively. He span round, with a harder look on his face.
"Why? You always want to know. I think you'd just be better off if you...forgot them, your birth parents." I didn't have an answer to that. I just stood there.
He couldn't sympathise, he'd known both of his parents. I walked out, feeling like I was interrupting something. My mood plummeted; why had he been so rude? It had only been one mere question.
He didn't apologize, either. No 'Oh, I'm so sorry', or 'Forgive me' or anything of that manner. I just couldn't understand why. There was a very awkward atmosphere as my fifteenth approached. I decided that I must've done something wrong. But he never let it go, as if it was a personal insult to him. Never.