Pulling her hair out and screaming seemed like perfectly good options to Adele. She rushed around her room, searching drawers and rummaging through piles of clothes. Nothing seemed to be going her way this morning. While searching for her Geography workbook, she came across a scrunchy on her nightstand and began tying her long hair back as she frantically surveyed her mess of a room.
There, on a shelf with her other books.
Adele sighed harshly as she shoved the workbook in her frayed denim rucksack. Her mum must have mistaken it for one of Adele's reading books when she'd straightened up yesterday.
Speaking of her mum, Adele could hear her downstairs, arguing with her dad. Again. Their loud voices carried through the floor and sometimes even shook the walls. It wasn't full-blown angry shouting, although they both sounded angry at something; and it wasn't filled with swearing or insults or any kind of abuse. Although there was the occasional shout of 'idiot' or 'sono stuffa' when her mums Italian came out. And it had never–as far as Adele had ever known–come close to anything physical (apart from an innocent plate once slipping from a wet hand during a wild gesture and smashing on the counter). No. Adele's parents were just constantly on full volume.
The aggressive voices downstairs began to make her heart race. Her dad couldn't find his shoes and was blaming her mum for moving them. It was a variation of the same old arguments they had at the start of pretty much every day. Like a dance they'd practiced for years that only they knew the steps to.
Adele sighed again as she ran a brush over her thick hair, trying to clean up wayward bits her scrunchy couldn't control. The brush snagged easily and she soon gave up, throwing it back onto her cluttered dresser. It was as if her hair was in charge, and she was just something it was growing on, along for the ride.
She paused as she stared at herself in the mirror. She was still there. Still herself. The same round face and big brown eyes. But somehow, the person looking back felt like a stranger; like she'd suddenly grown up from ten years old and was looking at herself as a teenager, wondering who this person was.
She made her way along the carpeted corridor and went downstairs. The arguing had died off and now there were just the sounds of someone–probably her dad–shifting things around in the small room to the left of the hallway.
Adele found her sister in the front room, on the sofa eating cereal and watching TV. The old flat-screen showed a man in a colourful suit telling the camera how to make your own putty. Cassie had her feet up on the cushioned pouf, lounging like it was still Sunday and she had nothing to do all day. Not a care in the world.
"Aren't you too old to be watching these kids shows?" Adele asked by the doorway. "Why don't you put on the news and see what's going on in the world?"
Cassie turned towards Adele but kept her eyes lazily on the TV. "I'm ten, not boring."
Adele regarded her sister, taking in her long blonde hair and clear pale skin. Cassie had always been the thin one. Adele had taken her parents' darker skin tone and thick hair, and had always been a bit on the chubby side – although she'd recently lost some weight after spending the Christmas period with a stomach virus. She shook her head and turned to leave, glancing over the peeling wallpaper and old mould that had stained a corner of the ceiling.
A large presence appeared in front of Adele in a sudden surge of tense, overpowering energy that froze her completely.
Her mum was a tall woman with a curvy figure that verged on rounded, and carried herself with the manner of an army sergeant; a constant frown on her stern, olive-skinned features. At this time of the early morning, her hair was big and messy, which combined with her round nose and wide nostrils gave her a troll-like appearance.
"I'm leaving in ten minutes, so you two better be ready." Her mum pointed a meaty finger at them both in turn. "We're not going to be late and get caught in traffic again. Are you listening to me? Cassie, where's your bag?"
Her sister sat up, dropping her empty bowl on the flat armrest, and rushed past them towards the stairs. "I just need a few minutes," she called back as she thundered up the steps, knocking down the pile of overflowing coats on the bannister.
Adele's mum went to the sofa, muttering something about her being the only one to clean up around there, as her dad came out into the corridor from the opposite doorway.
"They were in the office," he said, pointing at the black shoes on his feet. "Why were they in the office?" He scrunched his face as he waited for someone to answer, smoothing his white shirt. His eyes expanded at the pile of coats. "Why are these here? Huh? Why does no one pick up after themselves? Del, was this you?"
"No," she simply said, and bent to pick them up.
"How many times, Delly?" Her dad tried to sound sympathetic but just came across as lecturing. "You have to learn to be responsible with things. You can't just go around doing whatever you want without any regard to consequences, leaving a mess wherever you go."
Adele nodded and didn't say anything. She could have got her sister in trouble but knew it wouldn't have been worth hearing even more lectures, even if they weren't aimed at her.
She stepped aside as her dad went into the front room, looking for something else now. Her rounded face and weak chin definitely came from her dad, and she had got her thick dark hair from her mum. Her dad was heavily balding, with most of his hair on the sides, and his smaller frame was a big contrast to her mum's overbearing build. No one really knew where Cassie got her blonde hair and pale skin from. Adele used to joke by asking what the old postman looked like.
"Mum," she said, a few steps taking her into the kitchen doorway. "I'm ready to go, so I'll just take the bus in."
Usually, her mum drove her to school on Mondays, after dropping Cassie off at primary school. But today Adele felt like clearing her head a little and getting some fresh air. Get out of the madhouse early.
Her mum looked up from wiping the wall counter of the small kitchen. A large pot was simmering a batch of tomato sauce. It was as if her mum thought that being Italian meant she should always have something cooking. "That's fine. You go on ahead. I'll deal with your sister."
Her dad called something from the other room; Adele instinctively droned out his grating voice.
"And deal with your papa," her mum added, shaking her head and rubbing her hands on a towel.
Adele adjusted her bag over her shoulder and headed for the door, relieved to have had a semblance of a conversation with her mum that didn't involve being shouted at.
Her dad almost bumped into her when he came out into the hallway.
"Found them." He leaned towards her mum and pressed his pouting lips into her cheek, making a big smacking sound.
"Ew, get off me, you're sweating!" Her mum swatted him away.
"Am I?" he said playfully as he aimed for Adele. He kissed her on the cheek, pressing his face into her and causing her to step back into the wall. "See, Del doesn't think so."
"Get out," her mum said, waving a towel, "before you rub your stink all over the house."
Mild irritation passed over his face, the playfulness leaving him. He sighed and left.
Adele headed out, walking along the paving stones in the small patch of garden at the front of the house. Her parents called it a garden but it was mostly just a graveyard of dead leaves, with old tools and toys piling up within the weeds.
She watched her dad from the corner of her eye as he got into his van across the street, half expecting him to call out to her and start a shouting match in the street. But she was relieved to keep walking, and finally began to feel her shoulders relax. She let out a sigh she'd been building up that was louder than intended.
Everyone shouted at each other, and she just wanted to shout back. But she knew that pushing back wouldn't help anything. It was easier to just walk away. And that's what she did.
She made her way to the end of her street and headed towards the main road, rejoicing in the crisp morning air and enjoying the quiet time all to herself.
It wasn't until she saw the girl at the bus stop that she tensed, feeling her pulse pound in her ears and legs weaken.
*****
Thank you for reading!
What did you think of Adele's homelife?
Any major thoughts about this first chapter?