It’s still light when I get home. I watch TV in the living room and eat a microwave meal.
It turns dark outside and my Mum gets home from work.
‘Why’s it so dark in here?’ she asks and then switches on the main lights in the living room.
‘Did you see what came in the post this morning?’ she asks.
‘No.’
‘Here,’ she hands me a thick, glossy catalogue advertising a multitude of degree courses. On the cover, a black boy, an asian girl, a white girl with long blonde hair and a white boy with short brown hair are lounging on some grass all smiling or laughing at each other.
‘They look like they’re having a great time.’ I say, and go back to watching TV.
‘I just think that it’s something you should really consider, precious.’
‘Yeah, I know.’
‘I don’t want to keep on nagging you, but I really think it’d be a great opportunity for you. I know your Dad would have wanted you to go.’
I get up and go up to my bedroom.
I realise I have two missed calls and one text. They are all from Sarah. I read the text and laugh and then feel bad for laughing. It’s like watching someone in the street trip over: pangs of sympathy are mixed with relief that it’s not me. I consider phoning her but I decide I’ll wait until tomorrow.
It’s late, but I don’t feel tired so I decide to go downstairs and eat some ice cream. My Mum is in he living room with a glass of wine, watching TV. I walk past the living room door and she says sorry.
‘Don’t be,’ I say, over my shoulder, nonchalantly.
I sit in the living room with my Mum in silence. I eat my ice cream; she drinks her wine. When I finish I take my bowl into the kitchen and rinse it in the sink.
We say night to each other as I pass the living room and go up the stairs and go back to my room.
It turns dark outside and my Mum gets home from work.
‘Why’s it so dark in here?’ she asks and then switches on the main lights in the living room.
‘Did you see what came in the post this morning?’ she asks.
‘No.’
‘Here,’ she hands me a thick, glossy catalogue advertising a multitude of degree courses. On the cover, a black boy, an asian girl, a white girl with long blonde hair and a white boy with short brown hair are lounging on some grass all smiling or laughing at each other.
‘They look like they’re having a great time.’ I say, and go back to watching TV.
‘I just think that it’s something you should really consider, precious.’
‘Yeah, I know.’
‘I don’t want to keep on nagging you, but I really think it’d be a great opportunity for you. I know your Dad would have wanted you to go.’
I get up and go up to my bedroom.
I realise I have two missed calls and one text. They are all from Sarah. I read the text and laugh and then feel bad for laughing. It’s like watching someone in the street trip over: pangs of sympathy are mixed with relief that it’s not me. I consider phoning her but I decide I’ll wait until tomorrow.
It’s late, but I don’t feel tired so I decide to go downstairs and eat some ice cream. My Mum is in he living room with a glass of wine, watching TV. I walk past the living room door and she says sorry.
‘Don’t be,’ I say, over my shoulder, nonchalantly.
I sit in the living room with my Mum in silence. I eat my ice cream; she drinks her wine. When I finish I take my bowl into the kitchen and rinse it in the sink.
We say night to each other as I pass the living room and go up the stairs and go back to my room.
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