Chapter 1 - 13st 2
The last of the boxes were packed in the hire van and my parents were good to go. For years they'd dreamt of retiring out to Barcelona and the day had finally come. My stepdad David was studying a map of Spain, cup of coffee in hand, tracing the route in his head. Mum was sitting in my garden, the smoke from her last cigarette wafting up into the cool autumn air.
It should have been a happy day for us all, a new chapter, a new start - yet I was crying inside and my stomach was in knots. I was transported back to that painful summer's day in '91. I was just seven-years-old, and woke up to find that my dad had run off with another woman. I remember crying so much I didn't want to go to school, locking myself in the bathroom with my Dogtanian cuddly toy. It was Mum who was walking out of my life this time, but without the secrets and lies.
'Right, I guess we better get cracking if we're going to make the ferry in good time,' David said, tipping the last dregs of his coffee out into the sink. He tapped on the kitchen window to get Mum's attention. She looked up and nodded, took a last drag on her cigarette before stubbing it out on the wall.
'Are you ready darling?' asked David, smiling from ear to ear. 'Yep, just need to nip to the loo'. So this was it. Zero hour. They were finally off and I had to stay strong, I couldn't let them see how much hurt I was feeling, how much I didn't want them to go.
'You take care of yourself,' I said to Mum, wrapping my arms around her. I could smell her opium perfume mixed with the smell of her last Lambert and Butler on her clothes, it brought back the memories of the day my father ran away, further intensifying the pain.
'And you make sure you eat properly!' she replied, knowing full well that I would have to start looking after myself after weeks of her heavy but delicious evening meals. 'I will, I will,' I remarked. 'Call me when you get to Rouen, and make sure you drive safely for Christ's sake.'
As they droff off to their new life in sunny Spain I stood there on the street, a solitary tear streaming down my cheek. Mum had wound the window down and put her arm out to wave goodbye as David beeped the van's horn. 'Goodbye, and good luck,' I thought to myself as I heard the sound of that van disappear round the corner. I wiped my eyes and walked inside, closing the door and locking it behind me. Although they had gone, I could still smell Mum's cigarettes and still had their coffee cups to tackle. It was quiet. Too quiet.
'First it was your Dad that fucked off and left you, and now your Mum's done it too!'
I closed my eyes, trying to block out that voice.
'Whatcha gonna do now fatty! Mummy's boy, eh? Whatcha gonna do?'
'Go away go away go away go away go away!' I walked out of the kitchen, away from the ashtray and the last remnants of their presence and booted up the computer. I needed a distraction from the voice, from the demon which seemed to revel in tormenting me every day for the past 16 years.
You see, this demon of mine was born the moment I lost my father....
