Twenty-seven. Sephy

I stood in the doorway, watching Mother sip at her glass of white wine. I realized with a start that I had to think back a long way to remember seeing her without a glass of Chardonnay in her hand.

‘Mother, can I have a party for my fourteenth birthday?’

Mother looked up from her magazine. That’s all she ever did, read and drink, spend time in the gym or the pool and drink, shop and drink. And the only things she ever read were those glossy magazines with impossibly beautiful women on the cover and inside. Women with polished mahogany skin who looked like they’d never had a pimple in their lives – nor a decent meal either come to that. Women with teeth which shone like fresh snow in sunshine.

Something else struck me. I’d never seen a nought in any of my mother’s magazines. Not one. No white or pink faces anywhere. In fact, there’d actually been something on the news at the beginning of the year when the first nought model was featured in one of the high fashion magazines. I couldn’t see what all the fuss was about at the time. To be honest, I still couldn’t.

‘A party, eh?’ Mother’s voice brought me back to the here and now. ‘I don’t see why not.’

And that was it! I was so surprised, I couldn’t speak. I’d expected far more of an argument!

‘After all, your teenage years don’t last very long. You should make sure you enjoy every moment of them,’ Mother smiled.

I wondered how many glasses of wine it had taken to bring on this good mood. And even though I knew I was being uncharitable, I still resented the glass in her hand for making Mother happy where my sister Minnie and I couldn’t.

‘Where would you like to have it?’ Mother continued.

‘Couldn’t we have it here, in our house?’

‘I suppose so.’ Mother shrugged. ‘We could take on some extra help for the day to help out. D’you want an entertainer or a magician?’

‘Mother, I’ll be fourteen.’

Mother raised her eyebrows. ‘So?’

‘So I’ll have an entertainer!’ I smiled.

Mother smiled back. One of our rare moments of connection.

‘So how many guests d’you think you’ll have?’ asked Mother.

‘Everyone in my class. And some of my cousins. And my other friends from ballet school and riding. About forty odd, I suppose.’

‘Fine. Run along and talk to Sarah. Get her to sort it out.’ Mother’s nose was already back in her magazine.

I might’ve guessed Mother wouldn’t want to get her hands dirty. And with a personal secretary and chauffeur and maids and servants, why should she? But I would’ve loved it if she’d been interested enough to even ask me what I wanted as a birthday present. Oh, I got birthday and Crossmas presents from Mother and Dad. It’s just that they never bought them. They never even chose them. Mother’s secretary Sarah had very good taste. But each one of her selected presents sat at the back of my wardrobe or at the back of a drawer or under my bed, unused. And no-one ever asked me if I liked my presents. No-one ever even asked why they never saw them again after the day they were given. The presents didn’t matter. Maybe because I didn’t either. Only one person cared if I lived or died. He’d done so much for me in the past and now it was my turn to do something for him.

I had a little surprise for Mother and everyone else. A surprise that would ensure that my birthday party was talked about and remembered for ages to come. I hugged my secret to me. I would get into awful trouble but I didn’t care. I really didn’t. I’d had enough of this attitude of ‘live and let live – but not in my neighbourhood’. It wasn’t that I thought I was better than everyone else or anything, but someone had to start somewhere, show them all what hypocrites they were.

So why not now?

And why not me?

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 875