Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 137588 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 688(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 459(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137588 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 688(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 459(@300wpm)
“I’m aware of that,” she said. “Despite what George would have you believe, I’m not such a bad judge of character, Mr Roberts.”
“It’s Mark,” I said. “You should call me Mark.”
She smiled, and shook my hand. “Angela,” she said.
***
Helen
I waited for ages. Forever. Flitting my eyes between the dashboard clock and the lights still shining from the main corridor. I stepped from the car and was about to head back inside when the lights turned out. Mum and Mark came into view, walking in the shadows, walking slowly, talking, and I couldn’t hear any anger, which had to be a good thing.
My heart felt jumpy and weak, but my legs carried me just fine. I slammed into Mark and he was ready for it, he was warm and steady and listened to me rattle off a load of questions before he took my hand in his and turned me to face Mum.
“We’ve covered a bit of ground,” Mum said. “I’m not saying this thing is right, but I can’t put my hand on my heart and say it’s wrong, either.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I’ll do what I can. I’m going to try and make things right with your dad.”
I took a breath. “He won’t listen…”
Mum sighed. “He’s going to have to listen, Helen. I’m sick to death of the whole sorry lot of it these past few weeks. It’s never worth it, not all this, not tearing our family apart. Not seeing you like you have been. Nothing can be bad enough for all that, love.”
“But… he’ll be so angry…”
She pulled me from Mark and I didn’t fight it. She held me in her arms and I cried again, but this time they weren’t sad tears, they were the happy tears of relief. “You leave your dad to me, love.”
I squeezed her tight. “Thanks, Mum.” And there was nothing else to say. No other words that felt right.
She turned to Mark. “I think it’s best Helen goes home with you, just until the dust settles a little. It might be for a few days… I’ll see how he takes it.” She let go of me, took my hand in hers. “I’ll drop some of your things off tomorrow, just until this is all cleared up, alright?”
I nodded.
“No more secrets, hey?”
“No more secrets.”
She looked back to Mark. “You’ll take care of her?”
“Of course. It will be my pleasure.”
We walked slowly to her car, and Mum had instructions that made me smile.
“Please make sure she eats, she’s a sod for not eating her vegetables, but if you put them in a stew she doesn’t notice.”
“Mum!”
“She doesn’t drink enough, either. She needs to drink more water, or she’ll shrivel up one of these days. It’s not good for your organs, Helen. You can’t survive on orange juice. It’s full of sugar.”
“Mum!”
“She stays up too late, as well. Sometimes I have to drag her from her pit and stick her cereals in front of her, otherwise she’d be there all morning. Please make sure she gets to bed.”
I rolled my eyes. “God, Mum, seriously.” But I was laughing, and it felt so nice to laugh again.
“Duly noted,” Mark said.
“I’m not five, Mum.” I smiled, anyway, and she hugged me again.
“I’m allowed to treat you like a little girl, Helen, you are my little girl. Only you’re not so little these days. I think it’s about time we all realised that.”
“Love you, Mum.” I hugged her back, really tight.
“I love you, too, love, and so does your dad. That’s what all this is about really, deep down, he just wants what’s best for you. He’s got a funny way of showing it sometimes, I know, but his heart’s in the right place.”
“I know,” I said.
She got in the car, and she was all welled up again. We watched her leave, and she waved as she pulled out of the car park.
And then there was silence.
I didn’t even know where to begin, so I didn’t. I waited for Mark to speak and wished I hadn’t.
“Carrot and coriander soup, Helen. Have you tried it?”
I pulled a face. “I don’t like carrots. Carrots are disgusting.”
“We’ll see about that.” He smirked. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
***
Mark
I relayed to Helen the essence of what her mother had said to me, but I didn’t dwell on the details. I told her she was loved, and her parents were decent people trying to do the right thing, and that it would be for the best for everyone when this was all ironed out.
“But he hates you.”
“He has every right. I betrayed his confidence in the system. You’re his little girl.”
“Still,” she said. “He punched you in the face.”
I smiled. “Yes, he did, and he’s got quite a punch. I’m not overly keen to repeat the experience.”
“I’ve never seen him hit anyone before.”