Tracy Corbett - The Forget-Me-Not Flower Shop

‘My talent is for dancing. Something you’d be aware of if you’d taken any interest and come to watch me compete.’

‘Dancing is not a proper career.’ He banged his fist down on the back of the sofa. ‘And neither is film-making. How deluded are the pair of you? This is nonsense.’

Amy returned to Patricia, ignoring her dad as if he’d never spoken. ‘In ten years’ time Ben will be directing films, I’ll be the successful owner of a chain of dance studios and we’ll be financially secure, with three kids, a dog, a convertible and living happily ever after.’

David swore, something he rarely did. ‘Of all the idiotic, childish …’

Patricia tuned out. She was torn. Her gut reaction was that eighteen was far too young to marry. She hadn’t been much older herself and look how things turned out. She didn’t want that for Amy.

But her daughter was a different creature. She’d always been so mature for her age, a determined child who’d achieved everything she’d ever set out to do. Telling her not to do something would never work. David should realise that. After all, he was exactly the same. And who was to say Amy wouldn’t succeed just as predicted? If anyone could do it, her daughter could. But still, it didn’t alter the fact that getting married before you’d finished education wasn’t the best idea.

Patricia needed to reason with her daughter, not dictate. ‘Weddings cost a lot of money, darling. Not to mention all this talk of travelling and living abroad after university. How are you planning to pay for all this?’

‘It doesn’t matter how they’re planning to pay for it, it’s not happening.’ David’s yelling made her jump. ‘Stop asking stupid questions and tell her to grow up.’

Sadness and humiliation settled over Patricia, weighing her down. It was one thing to put up with David’s rudeness in private, but allowing him to be so dismissive in front of Amy was no example to set for her daughter.

‘Don’t speak to Mum like that.’ Amy stood up. ‘How dare you be so rude to her? At least she’s trying to be reasonable. If anyone’s acting childishly it’s you.’

Oh, God. This was just getting worse. Her eighteen-year-old daughter had more gumption than she did. No wonder Amy couldn’t wait to fly the nest and make a life of her own. Look at her role models.

‘I’ll talk to your mother any way I choose.’ David shook his fist at Amy.

‘And you do, don’t you? You’re always putting her down and making unkind remarks. Well, you’re not going to bully me the way you do Mum. I’m out of here.’

‘Come back, I haven’t finished,’ David shouted to Amy’s retreating back.

‘Yes, you have!’ Amy stormed out of the front door, followed by David.

And then there was silence.

Patricia slumped against the sofa, alone with her thoughts, the unfinished dusting and flaming Sky Sports.

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