Mindlessly, I wipe down the kitchen counter, not taking any notice if it is clean or not. There’s no noise in my house, no music. I’m reluctant to put on the radio in case a song plays which reminds me of him, or worse, I hear his voice. I know the day will come when their single plays across the airways, but will I ever be prepared for that? The strangest thing is it was me who wanted this. I said I wasn’t prepared to drop everything and leave, despite Ash asking me on more than one occasion. Sometimes I question what was going through my mind when I made my decision. At this moment in time, it’s an effort to physically get myself together. Yet I was the one who insisted on going back to university to finish my degree. Right now, I couldn’t give a shit about it; all I feel is lonely. Not the usual type of lonely where you crave company from a friend or need to get out in a crowd. This is the worst kind. Only the person you love with every fibre of your being can cure it and it’s draining to feel this way.
The ring of the home phone drowns my thoughts.Nobody ever calls on that number, so it startles me at first. I chuck the cloth in the sink and head to the hall, and when I pick up the receiver, I hold it as if it has the lurgy. This old retro phone is chunky, alien and uncomfortable to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Calla?” A stern female voice comes down the line.
“Yes?” I have no idea who I’m talking to, but they’re too familiar to be a telemarketer.
“It’s me.”
I stay silent, rolling my lips and racking my brain to who I’m talking to until she says, “Your mother, remember?”
It’s been so long, but the spiteful tones in her voice light a spark of recognition. “Oh, at long last.”
“Pleased to hear your voice too.”
“Sorry, Mum. How are you?” I wonder then why I’m sorry. It’s been over a year since I actually spoke to her. The last time I tried to make contact, I left messages with her new love interest. She’s taken her sweet time in returning my calls.
“I’m fine, getting along okay. You?”
“I’m alright.” I don’t elaborate. We’re not close and I’m sure she doesn’t want to hear about my lovesick state. However, there was another significant life-changing event we needed to talk about. “But I have been catching up with long-lost family.”
“Really? Who the hell were you catching up with?”
I can’t play games. I was sad before she called, now I’m mad and about to take it out on her. “When were you going to tell me, I had a brother?”
“I beg your pardon. What the hell kind of nonsense are you talking now?” She sounds genuinely shocked, but I push forward. “I’m talking about my half-brother. When did youthink you were going to tell me you had an affair with his father, Jerry Knox?”
“Who told you such rubbish.”
“Are you saying it’s not true?”
“I… um…. not exactly. I didn’t think there was any need to tell you anything.” This is the first time I’ve heard her so tongue-tied.
“Now hold on a minute. There was no need to tell me?”
“No. Jerry is, or should I say was, nothing to you.”
“Oh, no one special. Just my dad, who, by the way, had a son who is the same age as me.”
“Sweetie, listen to me,”
“What’s the point? You’ll only make excuses and there are no excuses for any of this.”
I hear her muffled sigh down the line. “It wasn’t like that.”
“It wasn’t like what? I don’t understand. The man was married, Mum and so were you. What part of having an affair is right? And while we’re on the subject, you’ve lied to me my entire life, so there’s that too.”
“How do you know this boy is your brother?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m just saying, for all you know, he could have made it up. Does he have proof like a DNA test or something?”
“No, I only have his word, but something inside me says he’s telling the truth.”
“Hmm, it’s not exactly scientific evidence is it, sweetie.”
