and running.
“Nicole Jones, can you put that sodding phone down and talk to me. I'm your mother, for Christ's sake. Show me some respect and talk to me properly. You see him every day, and us once a week. Now put the phone down!”
“I will when you stop referring to Craig as him . Now that, mother, is disrespectful.” I throw her a sarcastic smile and push off the stool, not standing to be with her another second. “Let us know when lunch is ready.” And with that I whiz from the kitchen into the living room to hide away with my dad. I let out the breath I've been holding in and stare at the clock.
Not long left to go.
My mum hasn't spoken to me for an hour now, she sulked the entire way through lunch. Now we're sat watching some documentary, and she is sitting as far away from me as she can. What was she saying when she said I see Craig every day? Ah yes, that I see them once a week. There's a damn good reason for that, and this is actually why. The arguments between her and I, the tension, the snarky comments and the fact she stops talking to me when I prove a point to her. I'm not that shy little girl any more. I'm an adult and have grown a backbone. Especially around my mother. My father isn't one to get involved unless he really has to. My mother tries to push him in the middle but he doesn't take the bait. And I love him for that. That he won't pick one over the other. It's between me and my mum, and no one else. He's only come between us once, and that was all her. She pushed and pushed about the marriage, about Craig and how much she hates the Thomas' that I snapped on her. She had it coming and my dad knew that. I didn't speak to her for a few weeks after that. Eventually she came grovelling but I think it was down to my father making her. She wouldn't have done it otherwise.
I lean back on the plush sofa and take a sip of my water, the hangover disintegrating. All I want to do now is sleep it off and that is exactly what I am going to do because I need to leave. I can't take the silence or the death glares I am being given every once in a while from my mother, so I jump from the sofa.
“I'm going to go now, dad. I can't handle the bitch looks I'm getting off mum.” I shrug, picking up my bag and throwing it over my shoulder. I take a glance out of the corner of my eye at my mum and she has her mouth wide open in shock. I give my dad a hug and kiss on his cheek.
“You okay, darling? Want me to take to her?” he whispers.
I shake my head and rest it on his shoulder. “No, it's okay, Dad. There's no point. It won't do anything.” I whisper back, planting one last kiss on his cheek before standing up, “I'll see you next week. See you, mum.”
I don't bother looking at her when I walk past and I don't wait for either of them to see me out of the house. I click the front door behind me, power walk towards my car and jump in, slamming the door shut. I let out a deep breath and start up the car. Sunday's always wind me up and right now, all I want is my bed.
***
By the time I return home, Craig is lounging back against the sofa, beer in hand, remote in the other. He smiles up at me and pats the space next to him. I throw my handbag on the armchair and fling myself down next to Craig, cuddling up to him, head on his shoulder. I spot a glass of wine on the table and giggle in glee. Leaning forward I pick it up and let out a deep sigh when the liquid enters my mouth.
“Good choice, husband. Just what I needed after an afternoon with the Dragon!”
“Didn't end up any better then?” He chuckles, kissing the top of my head when I snuggle back into him. I shrug and take another sip, focusing my attention on the animated film on the TV.
“Does it ever when I'm around her? She's never been a mother to me, so why should I continue to appease her? She's put me down since the moment I could walk, and she knows I won't go and tell my dad, so she does it on the sly. I'm used to it by now. When
“Nicole Jones, can you put that sodding phone down and talk to me. I'm your mother, for Christ's sake. Show me some respect and talk to me properly. You see him every day, and us once a week. Now put the phone down!”
“I will when you stop referring to Craig as him . Now that, mother, is disrespectful.” I throw her a sarcastic smile and push off the stool, not standing to be with her another second. “Let us know when lunch is ready.” And with that I whiz from the kitchen into the living room to hide away with my dad. I let out the breath I've been holding in and stare at the clock.
Not long left to go.
My mum hasn't spoken to me for an hour now, she sulked the entire way through lunch. Now we're sat watching some documentary, and she is sitting as far away from me as she can. What was she saying when she said I see Craig every day? Ah yes, that I see them once a week. There's a damn good reason for that, and this is actually why. The arguments between her and I, the tension, the snarky comments and the fact she stops talking to me when I prove a point to her. I'm not that shy little girl any more. I'm an adult and have grown a backbone. Especially around my mother. My father isn't one to get involved unless he really has to. My mother tries to push him in the middle but he doesn't take the bait. And I love him for that. That he won't pick one over the other. It's between me and my mum, and no one else. He's only come between us once, and that was all her. She pushed and pushed about the marriage, about Craig and how much she hates the Thomas' that I snapped on her. She had it coming and my dad knew that. I didn't speak to her for a few weeks after that. Eventually she came grovelling but I think it was down to my father making her. She wouldn't have done it otherwise.
I lean back on the plush sofa and take a sip of my water, the hangover disintegrating. All I want to do now is sleep it off and that is exactly what I am going to do because I need to leave. I can't take the silence or the death glares I am being given every once in a while from my mother, so I jump from the sofa.
“I'm going to go now, dad. I can't handle the bitch looks I'm getting off mum.” I shrug, picking up my bag and throwing it over my shoulder. I take a glance out of the corner of my eye at my mum and she has her mouth wide open in shock. I give my dad a hug and kiss on his cheek.
“You okay, darling? Want me to take to her?” he whispers.
I shake my head and rest it on his shoulder. “No, it's okay, Dad. There's no point. It won't do anything.” I whisper back, planting one last kiss on his cheek before standing up, “I'll see you next week. See you, mum.”
I don't bother looking at her when I walk past and I don't wait for either of them to see me out of the house. I click the front door behind me, power walk towards my car and jump in, slamming the door shut. I let out a deep breath and start up the car. Sunday's always wind me up and right now, all I want is my bed.
***
By the time I return home, Craig is lounging back against the sofa, beer in hand, remote in the other. He smiles up at me and pats the space next to him. I throw my handbag on the armchair and fling myself down next to Craig, cuddling up to him, head on his shoulder. I spot a glass of wine on the table and giggle in glee. Leaning forward I pick it up and let out a deep sigh when the liquid enters my mouth.
“Good choice, husband. Just what I needed after an afternoon with the Dragon!”
“Didn't end up any better then?” He chuckles, kissing the top of my head when I snuggle back into him. I shrug and take another sip, focusing my attention on the animated film on the TV.
“Does it ever when I'm around her? She's never been a mother to me, so why should I continue to appease her? She's put me down since the moment I could walk, and she knows I won't go and tell my dad, so she does it on the sly. I'm used to it by now. When
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