All About Me (20 page)

The first hour passes, then the second one, and finally when I
’
m ready to bail, Dora leaves the building alone. There is only one way to speak to Dora. She is a hard arse and she won
’
t take my shit, so I have to be quick. When she vanishes around the corner I get out of the car and run after her.
 

“
Hey, Dora, hey, wait!
”
I shout as I reach her. She stops and gives me her cold, superior look. This has to go as I planned.

“
Well, well, well, who do we have here? Oliver Morgan,
”
she says, laughing and staring at me like she is ready to stab me. This only makes me angrier, so instead of going soft and smooth I push her towards the wall, so both my hands are on either side of her head.

“
What the fuck do
—”

“
Dora, shut the fuck up for a second and listen to me.
”
I cut her off, moving my face closer. Her pupils dilate and for a brief moment I see fear in her eyes. All right, maybe this is a good thing, because Dora is never scared of anyone or anything. At least she gives that impression.
“
I
’
m fucked off with your behaviour, Dora. India loves me and I love her, and there is nothing you can do about that. I
’
ll get her back even if I have to wait years. This doesn
’
t mean that you can give the man you love some fucked-up ultimatum.
”

I take a breath and expect her to bark back, but she just keeps staring without a word. I
’
m so pumped that I can
’
t stop talking right now.

“
Jacob is the one for you and you broke up with him because you want him to stop being friends with me?
”
I ask, but I won
’
t let her respond because I
’
m fuming right now.
“
Are you out of your mind? What is going on between India and me has nothing to do with you and Jacob. He is fucking in love with you, so stop playing your ice queen games and just accept that he is a decent guy!
”

Okay, maybe I sort of went a little ahead of myself, because now I spot tears in Dora
’
s eyes. Fuck, I pushed this conversation too far. I take a step back, watching her.

“
Does he still love me?
”
she asks, now crying. When I thought that I would go hard on her, I didn
’
t think I
’
d mess her up so much.

I run my hand through my hair, pacing up and down.
“
Fuck, he does. He has been getting drunk every night, puking because you dumped him.
”

“
India wants to forgive you. I know that
—”

“
We aren
’
t talking about India right now, Dora,
”
I cut her off again.
“
Stay away from my life and take care of yours. I
’
m not going to repeat myself again and, remember, this conversation never took place.
”

Then I
’
m gone, leaving her by this tall building completely startled and shocked. My heart pounds like crazy when I get back to the car. Maybe I made another big mistake and this was just the part where I had to stay away from Jacob
’
s life. I get the hell out of India
’
s apartment block and get back home. At this point, I make another decision. It
’
s easy. This time around, I have to get my ruined life back on track and fix it. If India wants to forgive me, then I have to help her. Nothing I have done was physical, but emotionally I crushed her like a little fly and ripped her flesh inside out. Deep down, I made her feel worse than my brother did.

Chapter Nineteen

Like mother, like son.

Present

I have some breakfast and see Jacob on the stairs. He looks hideous, with dark circles under his eyes and drunken breath. He doesn
’
t acknowledge me at all. Last night I threw his girls out, so at the moment he isn
’
t very happy with me.

Upstairs, I pack a few things and make an important decision to get everything sorted with my mother. This is not going to be easy, but I have a week before my first exam. It
’
s revision time and I might as well give India a break and study at home. Once I
’
m back, then I can start sorting things with her, but I have no clue how my mother is going to take this. It
’
s a fight I have to win.

I think about my past as if it were someone else
’
s life. At home and at school I felt like a stranger. People didn
’
t respect me. Memories about the past pull me down to that hollowness. I worked hard to distance myself from those depressing years when I used to live in Gargle. It was clear right from the beginning that my mother couldn
’
t deal with her marriage. I took shit during high school from my brother
’
s mates. India was my redemption, but then she turned her back on me after my brother died.

During my drive, I go over what I
’
m going to say to my mother. Once I get back to Gargle, it
’
s just after nine. The roads are empty at early hours in the morning, so I take advantage of my fast car. Mother hid the truth about India from me. What pisses me off the most is the fact that she never even considered telling me. She should have tried to tell me, because at the end of the day Christian never, ever deserved India. I hate my mother for that, but I have to try to forgive her if I want India back in my life.

As I get close to Gargle, anxiety kicks in. I know that I
’
m going have to stay for about a week. Mother doesn
’
t even know that I
’
m coming home, so she will have a hell of a surprise. I stop by the petrol station to grab some food a few miles from home. All of a sudden my life feels like it
’
s crumbling under my feet. When my brother was alive, we all played one big happy family. I detested those awkward moments at the dinner table. As I park the car in the driveway, I don
’
t know how this morning is going to turn out.

There is a brand-new Mercedes parked in the driveway and I know that my mother doesn
’
t own it. She has a smart car. Inside, by the door, I spot a pair of men
’
s shoes. I scratch my hair and have a feeling in my gut that I might be showing up here at a really awkward moment. There isn
’
t any other explanation. I recognise my mother
’
s laugh in the kitchen, so I head there just to be nosy. There is a man sitting at our breakfast table. He is tall and much older than her. I try not to show that it bothers me that my mother never told me that she started seeing someone.

“
Oliver!
”
says my mother, getting up abruptly from the chair, going a little pale with my surprise.
“
What are you doing here?
”

“
What does it look like?
”
I reply with a shrug.

My mother looks at me for a long moment, probably asking herself what to do. Her date has dark hair and he needs a shave. I give him a cold nod of acknowledgement, but he looks confused; obviously, he has no idea who I am.

“
Robert, this is my son, Oliver.
”
She introduces us.

“
Nice to meet you,
”
Robert says, obviously sensing how fucking awkward this whole thing really is.

“
Not likely. I came to let you know that I
’
ll be here until next week, studying for exams,
”
I say and walk out of the kitchen, not expecting her to say anymore. It looks like she has been having a good time since I moved out. Fine, she can do what she wants, but it
’
s not like this guy is going to be in my life. I don
’
t need another useless father.

I didn
’
t change anything in my old room. When I came here a couple of weeks ago, Jacob took Christian
’
s room. It looks like my mother is looking after the house well; my room is spotless. She probably won
’
t be happy with my attitude downstairs, and that
’
s too bad. Deep down I really don
’
t know how I
’
m going to start talking to her again. We haven
’
t had a normal conversation since I can remember when, so the idea of discussing my feelings with her doesn
’
t sound too appealing. I sit on the bed and start unpacking my stuff. My whole life I
’
ve been hiding in this room, trying to deal with my growing problems. I got up really early in the morning, so I wouldn
’
t mind a short nap, but ten minutes later there is a knock on my door.

“
Oliver, can I come in?
”
asks my mother.

“
If you have to.
”

Fuck, I need to be nicer to her if this whole thing is going to work out. She also needs to know that I
’
m not a useless teenager anymore.

My mother opens the door and looks at me with her usual frown. It
’
s not like her. The old person with that crazy look on her face is long gone; now she is on meds. Everything is back on track.

“
It would nice if you could let me know when you
’
re coming home. You took me by surprise,
”
she says.

“
I don
’
t care what you do with your life.
”

I sound a bit harsh, but at the end of the day I do care; I
’
m just too proud to admit it. For years I
’
ve been hiding my feelings away from India. Now after all this, I still cannot tell my mother that she hurt me. I have to get over my stinky attitude today.

“
Oliver,
”
she starts again.
“
Can we start talking like two adults? Obviously you
’
re here for a reason?
”

A deep breath, a few deep breaths, that
’
s what I need right now. When I glance at her again, I notice that she does look healthy and that
’
s a good sign. I should be glad that at least one person in this family is turning their life around.

“
I
’
m here for a week, Mother,
”
I say, because really, I don
’
t know how to behave around her.

“
I
’
ll make you some breakfast before I go to work. Scrambled eggs on toast?
”
she asks in a gentle tone of voice, obviously trying to turn the tension between us around.

“
Yes, that
’
s cool.
”

“
I
’
m glad that you
’
re here. I
’
ve missed you,
”
she adds and leaves the room.

I take another deep breath, knowing that I have to stop being an asshole to her. She is my mother and I have to bring myself to put the past behind me.

Twenty minutes later, after unpacking all my shit, I head downstairs. It
’
s Friday and I have exactly seven days to change the way I interact with the woman that gave birth to me. The anger doesn
’
t even cover how I
’
m feeling right now. All this time I had no idea why India hated me so much. Now I know and I
’
m not dealing with it too well.

When I get to the kitchen I spot that all the alcohol is gone. I didn
’
t notice it the last time I was here. In the past, Mum enjoyed getting pissed. Alcohol only made her worse. I remember hiding the bottles in the garage and then we would row.

The breakfast is ready. Mum made my eggs just the way I like them. It
’
s the first time we
’
ve had breakfast together since I came
back
.

“
That looks great, Mum, thanks,
”
I say.

“
Good. I can cook you a breakfast every day. I
’
ve a few days off.
”

“
That
’
s fine. I don
’
t have to be anywhere tomorrow. Besides, the old Gargle doesn
’
t have much to offer,
”
I reply, relaxing a little.

It
’
s just breakfast, but the atmosphere between us is a little tense. She keeps watching me. We try to talk, but half an hour later she needs to go to work. I do the washing up and then have a nap. When I get up a few hours later, I go over some revision notes. The time rolls on until evening, so once I burn my brain to the point that it can
’
t take any more information, I go for a ride around town.

The next day I get up with the feeling that today is going to be a better day. India is on my mind and I already miss her. Even when I was in Scotland, miles away, it was easier to cope. She was out of reach, so I wasn
’
t expecting anything. Now, every day I wonder if she is going to change her mind.