Ella Harper - The Years of Loving You

‘Darling,’ she slurred. ‘Where have you been? I went out to look for you. Got a bit lost. Have you been climbing trees again?’

Ed closed his eyes. ‘Mother, I’m eighteen years old.’

‘Of course you are!’ Florrie cackled. ‘I’m forgetful; what can I say?’ She gave him a coquettish smile. ‘Is your girlfriend with you? The lovely Molly? You’re always talking about her.’

Ed opened his mouth to correct her then thought better of it. ‘No, no, she’s not,’ he said finally. It never ceased to disturb him how his mother seemed to flit in and out of past and present, from vagueness to startling accuracy.

‘Where is Michael?’ he asked her, enunciating clearly.

‘Michael?’

‘Michael. The man who moved in here. Your boyfriend.’

‘He’s gone.’ Florrie started to cry. It was a pitiful, child-like sound.

Ed put his hand on hers. ‘What happened?’

‘We had a fight. I had a drink.’ Florrie swallowed. ‘I said some things. Not very nice things. But it was all his fault.’

Ed nodded. He was well-acquainted with the downsides of an alcoholic with a mean streak. She had once told him she wished she’d never had him, that he had ruined her life and that he could drop dead as far as she was concerned. Not a great thing to hear at the tender age of fourteen.

‘He packed his stuff and he’s gone,’ Florrie said, her voice reaching a whiny pitch.

‘Maybe he’ll come back.’ Ed tiredly pushed his hair out of his eyes. ‘You were in such a good place, Mum. Such a good place. How did this happen?’

‘I miss you,’ she said, pulling her lips into a pout. ‘I miss you so much, Edison. You won’t leave me again, will you?’ she pleaded, clawing at his hand. ‘You’re all I’ve got.’

‘I’m doing a degree, Mum. I’m trying to make a better life for us.’

‘But I need you here.’

Ed closed his eyes briefly. Here it came. The emotional blackmail. He could barely stand it. He had lived with it for so long now, he knew he should be used to it, but he hated it.

‘Time for a sleep,’ Ed told her gently. She resisted for a second, but exhaustion and alcohol soon overcame her and she relaxed against the sofa. Ed tucked the blanket more securely round her, feeling a multitude of emotions rushing into his throat – love, sympathy, resentment, responsibility. Overwhelmed, he settled down on the opposite sofa and rubbed his eyes blearily, wondering what on earth he was going to do now.

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