Chapter I
Samantha turned over and reached out for her alarm clock on the dresser. Squinting in the dark, she could just make out the hands indicating it was just after 2am. Groaning, she slammed the clock back onto the dresser and pulled herself out of bed. Deciding it was too dark to even attempt to find either her slippers or dressing gown, she headed out the bedroom in her pyjamas and padded out towards the kitchen.
As she opened the refrigerator, the light beamed out and she flinched. Squinting through the light, Samantha studied the contents before sticking her head into the refrigerator and pulling out a carton of orange juice. She took a glass from the drainer and poured into it the remainder of the carton’s contents. She then shut the refrigerator door and leant against it, sipping her drink and taking in her surroundings.
Unlike the rest of the flat, the kitchen was tidy, with the pots and pans neatly stacked on each other and the utensils together on the rack. The hob was spotless and a tea towel was folded neatly through the handle of the oven that sat underneath it. Samantha ran her bare foot back and forth in a semicircle in front of her, taking in the cracked linoleum and deciding that new laminate flooring was needed.
Everything had happened so quickly. Less than a month ago, she was living at home with Mum and Lauren; next thing she knew, she had her own flat with her best friend, Stuart. Stuart had been in the flat for three weeks before he decided he couldn’t handle paying off the mortgage and Council tax on his own, so he had asked Samantha to move in with him. Samantha hadn’t found her own place yet and thought that staying with Stuart first was a good way of finding her feet. Besides, if Stuart couldn’t afford to live on his own, Samantha was never going to.
Samantha slowly wandered out of the kitchen and into the sitting room. It was a nice flat, situated just within the border of North London, and was convenient for both the capital and the countryside. The flat had an allocated parking space, which Samantha had automatic possession of because Stuart couldn’t drive. It also had great views of the local town and, on a clear day, she could see the river that ran alongside the shopping centre and the small boating lake positioned on the far side. The move had only added on an extra fifteen minutes to her journey from work and had actually brought her closer to her school friend, Amy.
The interior itself was rather bland, with magnolia-coloured walls, ceilings and carpets throughout. Samantha’s aim in life was to rid the world’s properties of floor-to-ceiling magnolia but she didn’t have to say anything to Stuart. He had already decided that he was going re-decorate the flat. Samantha had said she wasn’t too bothered by the décor as it wasn’t her place but Stuart had insisted that they do all the shopping together and had already planned a couple of weekends in advance for them to do so.
Samantha made her way back to her bedroom and switched on the dresser light. She wasn’t going to go back to sleep now she was up. She slumped back into bed and continued to drink her orange juice, glancing around at her little haven. She still had half her gear in boxes and what she had unpacked had been flown around the room during attempts to find things. The room itself was compact, with the bed against the near wall and the dresser squeezed between the bed and the far wall. The wardrobe stood alone in the opposite corner by the window. There wasn’t any room for her desk and it had been resigned to a corner in the sitting room. The desk had been positioned, and then her removal boxes were stacked on top of and underneath it. Until she unpacked, there was nothing else she could do. She had to content herself with the dresser as a home for the computer and stereo, which made the room look cluttered.
“Of course, the bedroom would be less cluttered to begin with if you hadn’t insisted on putting a king-size double bed in there,” Stuart had pointed out.
“Well I couldn't have a regular double bed because Pete is over six feet tall,” Samantha had responded.
“If you had a regular double bed or even a single, then the problem would be sorted.”
“Where on earth would Pete sleep? I can't make him sleep on the sofa!”
“Why not?” asked Stuart.
“He's my fiancé!”
Pete had proposed three months ago and Samantha was still trying to get used to the diamond solitaire sitting on her left hand. It felt weird and, as much as she hated herself for thinking it, she wasn't sure if she wanted to get married yet. After all, marriage was for life, wasn't it? What if she wanted the thrill of starting a new relationship again? And, no offence of course to Pete, but he was going to be the last guy she slept with. It may become routine, or she might get bored, or anything.
“Yeah, yeah, so you might get bored!” laughed Stuart. “You never know if you don't try, do ya?”
Samantha felt slightly insulted by Stuart’s flippancy, and told him so.
“I’m just looking on the positive side,” argued Stuart. “I’m not being flippant. Its just marriage is supposed to be a journey and no one knows the outcome. It’s just what you make it.”
Samantha wasn’t sure.
“Of course,” continued Stuart, “if you don’t wanna get married yet, you could just tell him that.”
“God no!” exclaimed Samantha. “You saw what happened with Carrie and Aidan in Sex and the City – she wanted to put it on hold and he admitted that he couldn’t wait that long and they split up. I don’t wanna split up with Pete.”
“Yeah, but Carrie had cheated on Aidan already,” stated Stuart. “He was a nice guy and all but he needed that piece of paper for his own piece of mind. Security. Proof that she belonged to him.”
“I don‘t think Pete is looking for security in the unlikely event that I cheat on him.”
“That's not what I was saying. That's what Aidan wanted. Pete just wants to marry you.”
“But why?”
Stuart raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you should be asking him that question. Or maybe yourself. Why agree to marry him if you don't know why you're doing it?”
Samantha didn't know why she agreed. He was her boyfriend of six years, he proposed, and she said 'Yes'. It would have been silly to refuse. The question of 'Why' wasn't raised and it had all seemed rather pre-determined. Samantha wrestled with her thoughts again, fiddling with her engagement ring and looking at it as if it would provide any answers. It didn't. She looked over at her alarm clock – 2.30am. She should get some sleep. She leant over the dresser to switch off the light and sank into the covers, turning the situation over in her mind again and again.
Out the corner of her eye, Samantha saw a green light glaring out from the dresser. She sat up to take a closer look and saw it was coming from her mobile, currently on 'silent' and charging from the wall outlet. Samantha stretched out and grabbed the phone, holding it inches from her face to read the screen: 1 missed call. Samantha opened the section and saw it was from her sister, Lauren. Samantha selected the 'call' button and held the phone to her ear. It had barely rang once when Lauren answered.
“Sam? Sorry, were you asleep?”
“No,” replied Samantha. “Couldn't sleep.”
“Oh, well, I have to talk to you about Mum.”
Samantha hauled herself into a sitting position.
“What about Mum?” she asked. “Is she okay, Lauren?”
“Yeah, she's fine, I suppose,” she replied.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Look, it's just something has been going on the past couple of weeks. It started just after you moved out, actually. Like she was waiting until you went.”
“What happened?” asked Samantha, beginning to get exasperated.
No answer.
“Lauren?”
“Mum's dating again,” Lauren blurted out.
“What?! Are you sure?”
“Well, no, but she keeps going out at all hours and she's hardly ever at home in the evenings. And I think she has either got a new-found taste in pubs or she's started up smoking 'cause her washing stinks of nicotine.”
Samantha notched her eyebrows. “Well it has only been a couple of months since Dad died. I know moving out so soon afterwards may not have been a good idea, but…”
Her voice trailed off. This wasn't mean to be happening.
“Maybe you should move back,” Lauren said. “Make Mum see some sense.”
Samantha sighed. “I can't move back, it wouldn't be fair on me or Stuart. And its not going to stop Mum doing what she wants. It may be her way of getting through the grieving process. Everyone has their own way of dealing with loss.”
“Like going out without anyone knowing where she is or what she's doing or when she's going to be back?” Lauren retorted, her voice raising slightly. “It's not exactly responsible parenting and I never know what to think.”
“Lauren, you aren't a child anymore. You can look after yourself. Mum knows this and is probably taking advantage of it.”
“It doesn't mean it's right though.”
“I know.”
Samantha inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled. She heard Lauren do the same. She had to ask the inevitable question.
“Does Mum bring anyone home?”
Pause. “I don't think so,” Lauren said, uncertainly. “I don't see or hear anyone, anyway. But judging the times she sometimes comes home at, I would guess she goes to really late-night clubs or she's at someone else's for the night.”
Samantha shivered. She couldn't imagine her mother having sex and it sickened her slightly to think about it. She couldn't begin to imagine the things that must have been running through Lauren's mind up until now.
“Look,” Samantha eventually said, “it's late and you need to get some rest. Maybe we could talk about this later in more detail, and then we can try and sort a way through this.”
“Sure,“ Lauren sighed. “Big sis knows best!”
“I'll call you tomorrow and we'll meet up somewhere, okay?”
“Okay, See ya later.”
“Yeah, bye.”
Samantha hung up and slumped under the covers. Her mother was acting like a wild teenager while her real-life teenage daughter sat at home alone most evenings, thinking probably the worst imaginable scenarios possible. It didn't seem real.
But then nothing had since her father had died. It had been sudden and completely unexpected. Lauren had been affected the most and had had to quit her college course and take a gap year instead, because she was missing too many lessons to continue successfully. Lauren had tried to get closer to her mother in an attempt to somehow fill the void, but had not yet succeeded and now, probably never would. Instead, Lauren had turned to her father's sister for comfort and preferred to be at her aunt's house because it reminded her of the happy times she had with Dad. Samantha had also been inconsolable and had retreated to the sympathies of her friends. She wished now she had been a little more supportive of her mother. Obviously she had been there for her until the move, but her mother never wanted to talk about it and acted as if she didn't care. It was now glaringly obvious that it had all been a front and now her mother was desperately trying to maintain it by throwing herself into a whirlwind social life.
It was all too much. Samantha's head began to hurt. She reached her arm out of the covers and felt for her handbag. Finding the zip, she opened it and rummaged around the inside pocket for her aspirin box. She forced one out of the foil cover and gulped it down with the last of her orange juice. She then flipped over so she was flat face-downwards on her bed and slowly fell into an uneasy sleep.
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As she opened the refrigerator, the light beamed out and she flinched. Squinting through the light, Samantha studied the contents before sticking her head into the refrigerator and pulling out a carton of orange juice. She took a glass from the drainer and poured into it the remainder of the carton’s contents. She then shut the refrigerator door and leant against it, sipping her drink and taking in her surroundings.
Unlike the rest of the flat, the kitchen was tidy, with the pots and pans neatly stacked on each other and the utensils together on the rack. The hob was spotless and a tea towel was folded neatly through the handle of the oven that sat underneath it. Samantha ran her bare foot back and forth in a semicircle in front of her, taking in the cracked linoleum and deciding that new laminate flooring was needed.
Everything had happened so quickly. Less than a month ago, she was living at home with Mum and Lauren; next thing she knew, she had her own flat with her best friend, Stuart. Stuart had been in the flat for three weeks before he decided he couldn’t handle paying off the mortgage and Council tax on his own, so he had asked Samantha to move in with him. Samantha hadn’t found her own place yet and thought that staying with Stuart first was a good way of finding her feet. Besides, if Stuart couldn’t afford to live on his own, Samantha was never going to.
Samantha slowly wandered out of the kitchen and into the sitting room. It was a nice flat, situated just within the border of North London, and was convenient for both the capital and the countryside. The flat had an allocated parking space, which Samantha had automatic possession of because Stuart couldn’t drive. It also had great views of the local town and, on a clear day, she could see the river that ran alongside the shopping centre and the small boating lake positioned on the far side. The move had only added on an extra fifteen minutes to her journey from work and had actually brought her closer to her school friend, Amy.
The interior itself was rather bland, with magnolia-coloured walls, ceilings and carpets throughout. Samantha’s aim in life was to rid the world’s properties of floor-to-ceiling magnolia but she didn’t have to say anything to Stuart. He had already decided that he was going re-decorate the flat. Samantha had said she wasn’t too bothered by the décor as it wasn’t her place but Stuart had insisted that they do all the shopping together and had already planned a couple of weekends in advance for them to do so.
Samantha made her way back to her bedroom and switched on the dresser light. She wasn’t going to go back to sleep now she was up. She slumped back into bed and continued to drink her orange juice, glancing around at her little haven. She still had half her gear in boxes and what she had unpacked had been flown around the room during attempts to find things. The room itself was compact, with the bed against the near wall and the dresser squeezed between the bed and the far wall. The wardrobe stood alone in the opposite corner by the window. There wasn’t any room for her desk and it had been resigned to a corner in the sitting room. The desk had been positioned, and then her removal boxes were stacked on top of and underneath it. Until she unpacked, there was nothing else she could do. She had to content herself with the dresser as a home for the computer and stereo, which made the room look cluttered.
“Of course, the bedroom would be less cluttered to begin with if you hadn’t insisted on putting a king-size double bed in there,” Stuart had pointed out.
“Well I couldn't have a regular double bed because Pete is over six feet tall,” Samantha had responded.
“If you had a regular double bed or even a single, then the problem would be sorted.”
“Where on earth would Pete sleep? I can't make him sleep on the sofa!”
“Why not?” asked Stuart.
“He's my fiancé!”
Pete had proposed three months ago and Samantha was still trying to get used to the diamond solitaire sitting on her left hand. It felt weird and, as much as she hated herself for thinking it, she wasn't sure if she wanted to get married yet. After all, marriage was for life, wasn't it? What if she wanted the thrill of starting a new relationship again? And, no offence of course to Pete, but he was going to be the last guy she slept with. It may become routine, or she might get bored, or anything.
“Yeah, yeah, so you might get bored!” laughed Stuart. “You never know if you don't try, do ya?”
Samantha felt slightly insulted by Stuart’s flippancy, and told him so.
“I’m just looking on the positive side,” argued Stuart. “I’m not being flippant. Its just marriage is supposed to be a journey and no one knows the outcome. It’s just what you make it.”
Samantha wasn’t sure.
“Of course,” continued Stuart, “if you don’t wanna get married yet, you could just tell him that.”
“God no!” exclaimed Samantha. “You saw what happened with Carrie and Aidan in Sex and the City – she wanted to put it on hold and he admitted that he couldn’t wait that long and they split up. I don’t wanna split up with Pete.”
“Yeah, but Carrie had cheated on Aidan already,” stated Stuart. “He was a nice guy and all but he needed that piece of paper for his own piece of mind. Security. Proof that she belonged to him.”
“I don‘t think Pete is looking for security in the unlikely event that I cheat on him.”
“That's not what I was saying. That's what Aidan wanted. Pete just wants to marry you.”
“But why?”
Stuart raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you should be asking him that question. Or maybe yourself. Why agree to marry him if you don't know why you're doing it?”
Samantha didn't know why she agreed. He was her boyfriend of six years, he proposed, and she said 'Yes'. It would have been silly to refuse. The question of 'Why' wasn't raised and it had all seemed rather pre-determined. Samantha wrestled with her thoughts again, fiddling with her engagement ring and looking at it as if it would provide any answers. It didn't. She looked over at her alarm clock – 2.30am. She should get some sleep. She leant over the dresser to switch off the light and sank into the covers, turning the situation over in her mind again and again.
Out the corner of her eye, Samantha saw a green light glaring out from the dresser. She sat up to take a closer look and saw it was coming from her mobile, currently on 'silent' and charging from the wall outlet. Samantha stretched out and grabbed the phone, holding it inches from her face to read the screen: 1 missed call. Samantha opened the section and saw it was from her sister, Lauren. Samantha selected the 'call' button and held the phone to her ear. It had barely rang once when Lauren answered.
“Sam? Sorry, were you asleep?”
“No,” replied Samantha. “Couldn't sleep.”
“Oh, well, I have to talk to you about Mum.”
Samantha hauled herself into a sitting position.
“What about Mum?” she asked. “Is she okay, Lauren?”
“Yeah, she's fine, I suppose,” she replied.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Look, it's just something has been going on the past couple of weeks. It started just after you moved out, actually. Like she was waiting until you went.”
“What happened?” asked Samantha, beginning to get exasperated.
No answer.
“Lauren?”
“Mum's dating again,” Lauren blurted out.
“What?! Are you sure?”
“Well, no, but she keeps going out at all hours and she's hardly ever at home in the evenings. And I think she has either got a new-found taste in pubs or she's started up smoking 'cause her washing stinks of nicotine.”
Samantha notched her eyebrows. “Well it has only been a couple of months since Dad died. I know moving out so soon afterwards may not have been a good idea, but…”
Her voice trailed off. This wasn't mean to be happening.
“Maybe you should move back,” Lauren said. “Make Mum see some sense.”
Samantha sighed. “I can't move back, it wouldn't be fair on me or Stuart. And its not going to stop Mum doing what she wants. It may be her way of getting through the grieving process. Everyone has their own way of dealing with loss.”
“Like going out without anyone knowing where she is or what she's doing or when she's going to be back?” Lauren retorted, her voice raising slightly. “It's not exactly responsible parenting and I never know what to think.”
“Lauren, you aren't a child anymore. You can look after yourself. Mum knows this and is probably taking advantage of it.”
“It doesn't mean it's right though.”
“I know.”
Samantha inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled. She heard Lauren do the same. She had to ask the inevitable question.
“Does Mum bring anyone home?”
Pause. “I don't think so,” Lauren said, uncertainly. “I don't see or hear anyone, anyway. But judging the times she sometimes comes home at, I would guess she goes to really late-night clubs or she's at someone else's for the night.”
Samantha shivered. She couldn't imagine her mother having sex and it sickened her slightly to think about it. She couldn't begin to imagine the things that must have been running through Lauren's mind up until now.
“Look,” Samantha eventually said, “it's late and you need to get some rest. Maybe we could talk about this later in more detail, and then we can try and sort a way through this.”
“Sure,“ Lauren sighed. “Big sis knows best!”
“I'll call you tomorrow and we'll meet up somewhere, okay?”
“Okay, See ya later.”
“Yeah, bye.”
Samantha hung up and slumped under the covers. Her mother was acting like a wild teenager while her real-life teenage daughter sat at home alone most evenings, thinking probably the worst imaginable scenarios possible. It didn't seem real.
But then nothing had since her father had died. It had been sudden and completely unexpected. Lauren had been affected the most and had had to quit her college course and take a gap year instead, because she was missing too many lessons to continue successfully. Lauren had tried to get closer to her mother in an attempt to somehow fill the void, but had not yet succeeded and now, probably never would. Instead, Lauren had turned to her father's sister for comfort and preferred to be at her aunt's house because it reminded her of the happy times she had with Dad. Samantha had also been inconsolable and had retreated to the sympathies of her friends. She wished now she had been a little more supportive of her mother. Obviously she had been there for her until the move, but her mother never wanted to talk about it and acted as if she didn't care. It was now glaringly obvious that it had all been a front and now her mother was desperately trying to maintain it by throwing herself into a whirlwind social life.
It was all too much. Samantha's head began to hurt. She reached her arm out of the covers and felt for her handbag. Finding the zip, she opened it and rummaged around the inside pocket for her aspirin box. She forced one out of the foil cover and gulped it down with the last of her orange juice. She then flipped over so she was flat face-downwards on her bed and slowly fell into an uneasy sleep.
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Go to Chapter II
© 2004 Clare Benton
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