“Well, hello Sally. I was just thinking of you.” It had been at least three months since she’d rung, so it was time for another round of ‘what an ungrateful son you are.’
“Don’t call me that. It’s so weird.” Her scowl was clear in her voice.
“Why do you think I do it?” I answered her with a smile, but it was hollow.
There was a pause as she started to play her game. Dragging out the silence, waiting for me to start, establishing who had the power even though she was the one who wanted something.
“Why did you call?” I finally asked. Making me ask after her changed our dynamic, and I fucking hated that I always bought in to it.
“The new school term starts next week, and the twins are excited to see their friends again,” she said.
I stemmed a sharp fucking breath to hide how that simple sentence sent a burst of rage tearing through me. It would sound so innocent if I knew she wasn’t after money.
I wasn’t in the mood for this. I might have had time for it, but I didn’t have the space.
“It’s midnight. This can wait until tomorrow,” I said dryly.
“The bills are due tomorrow.”
I dug my fingers into my thigh as the credits rolled onto the screen.
It was easy for her to make it feel like she had slapped me.
She never called for any other reason, but that little boy inside me hoped that maybe she might be ringing just to talk to her only son. Sally had been that way as long as I could remember, yet I was always surprised.
I should be keeping a tighter hold on her finances. I spent at least an hour a week making sure she took care of my baby sisters rather than blowing all of her money on expensive clothes, cigarettes and vodka. Or giving it all to my step-dad, Terry, so he could take it down to the bookies and lose it on the races.
I eyed my whisky glass with a frown. She always said she drank just to take the edge off, which is exactly why I had opened the bottle in the first place.
I used to freely send them thousands of pounds every month to make sure my sisters had food, clothes, and whatever else they needed. When I asked the twins about the things I’d bought them, they’d lie because they were so scared of theirdad. Terry had anger issues, though ‘issues’ was putting it mildly.
Which resulted in me opening a bank account for Sally, strictly controlled by me so I knew exactly what she was spending it on. And I made it conditional. If she drew out any more than £50 in cash, or started transferring money to mysterious accounts like she did at one point, she was blocked out for the next month.
But that didn’t stop her from trying.
I knew the bank account was empty for the month, and saw that her spending had increased in certain areas, but I had to give her some leeway. Any harsher, and I wouldn’t get to see my sisters until they turned eighteen. I refused to leave them alone for three years.
Sally took my silence to mean she should continue. “And we still haven’t paid the plumber for the toilet fixture. And the car bill is overdue,” she sighed heavily, the weight of the whole fucking world on her shoulders.
I bit my upper lip, breathing deeply through my nose as every part of my body tensed. Eyes closed, jaw aching from sheer restraint, hardening myself to deal with whatever bullshit she was about to throw my way.
I must have really fucked up in a past life. Fucked up so badly that I was stuck in a place where my own mum thought I was dumb enough to scam. Even after everything she taught me.
“Why didn’t you pay the bill?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“Well, the taxes were overdue, and they were still coming after me over that. I had to give all the money to them. Check the account, you’ll see. But… I… I think they are going to take the house away from us. They said it’s not up to standards. There’s mould in the kitchen and the girl’s bedroom, and we’re going to have to move out.”
She’d pulled this one last year as well. I doubted she’d forgot. Her memory was razor-sharp. She needed it to be to stay in business.
And I was sure she also remembered how she wanted to use me as a direct line to the Fischers to try to wheedle money out of them, too. As soon as she saw them at the graduation ceremony at Cambridge, she spent the entire weekend trying to get close to them, like every single other person at that fucking event.
Good thing Mallory Fischer was a master of the same game. She just had a shinier veneer and more capital.
“If we could just come and stay for a month…” Her voice trembled, so close to tears I might even believe her if she hadn’t taught me how to cry on demand by the time I was ten.
I kept my eyes pinned on the white text rolling on a black background, trying to focus on anything other than the urge to stand up and hurl my phone out the window. While I'd love to bring my sisters down from Newcastle, Sally would force her way in as well. And I couldn't let her find out where I lived. She and Terry had a habit of interrupting my life at the worst fucking times.
“Send me the report then,” I said, lifting my hand to rub my mouth.
