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Mum is coming to Town

September 15, 2011

I was looking forward to my mothers visit more than anything. I hadn’t seen her since my move to London and it depressed me a little. It also shamed me a little that I hadn’t made more of an effort to go visit her in my many weekends since I started working. It wasn’t that work was getting in the way or anything, it was more that I was throwing myself into my work.

Things with Porter Boy were still going rough. We hadn’t spoken for a while, and although I missed him, I wasn’t exactly bothered by his absence. My time was too busy being spent on stories and gossip to notice how his absence was affecting me. I was in a job where working for one department was impossible. I was working all departments, just like everybody. It was a case of, if there is a story, get it, don’t wait for anyone else. Everybody wanted the front page story, and no one was willing to share the limelight.

Finally Friday night arrived and with it, the hurricane of a mother that was mine. I say hurricane because my mother tends to forget she is twice my age and is always trying to ‘hang out’ with younger people, which usually ends in disaster. Anyway, she arrived, bags in tow by the other ‘porter boy’ (Who was just a young lad passing in the street below my new apartment, when my mother got out of her cab and flagged him over)

“There you go sugar.” She winked at her potential new boy toy as she handed him a 20 for his troubles. “Mom do you have to flirt with every boy you meet!” “Of course not sweetheart…. just the cute ones!” her contagious laugh rang out as I hugged her and picked up her suitcase to bring it into the apartment. I couldn’t help but cuddle up to her as soon as we both sat down on the couch. “I missed you mama.” I wrapped my arms around her like a five-year old child before resting my head in her lap. It had only been around two or three months since I moved to the south, but it felt like it had been forever since i spent some time with her.

“I missed you too dear.” I felt my mothers hands brushing through my hair like she used to do when I was a child. But it didn’t last long. Ten minutes later, Mary Alice bounced in with son Sam in tow. “PAM!”

Enter girlie screeches and gabbing of the catching up nature. Sam, unimpressed as usual, turned on his heel and walked away to his designated area of the apartment… his temporary shared bedroom with his mother.


Two hours later, we were heading out for a meal in Northern London. I would have taken my mother somewhere here, in Leicester Square, however, I had found a joint full of celebrities alike which I knew she would enjoy. All of us were dressed to the nines. My mother in a plunging dress that I far from approved, but allowed her to wear none the less. Mary Alice, looked more sombre today, wearing a black strapless gown with a shawl. It seemed like everyone was making the effort since hearing this was a celebrity hangout, as even little Sam was sporting himself a suit.

Friday nights seemed to be popular for this haunt, as along with some regular people, there were a fair few of recognisable faces, who my mother was kind enough to loudly point out as we passed each table, being led to our own. “Mother… shhhhh. Please!” I rolled my eyes at her as we sat at our table. Since it was also the first time I had taken Mary Alice (I usually came here with Rebekkah and the crew – they have fine taste), She was loving the feeling of being prim and proper. And most importantly, she was loving the feeling of being in the middle of such high-class. “I love this place! Why have we never been here before?” Mary Alice was impressed and eager to mingle with some obviously single groups of men. “Don’t forget you have a boyfriend now Alice!” I reminded her, just as she eyed the butt of a passing business man.

I, however, was technically on a break. I was allowed to look. And look I did…. for a long time….. before my mother cleared her throat to get my attention. “What would you like to eat hunni?” I blushed a little as I opened the menu to find something new. I couldn’t find anything of interest that I hadn’t already had. By the time the waiter came, I decided to go with my usual of steak and veg.

General chatter broke our ice as we ordered champagne and nibbled on different breads with Olive Oil and Balsamic Vinegar. I never used to be a fan, but my taste buds changed over time and I grew accustom to this strange combination.

“Well I’m sure you remember Indi, I had something to tell you?” No. I actually forgot, I got so busy in work, I forgot to hassle her completely. But now that she refreshed my memory, the excitement was returning. What was she going to say? she was going to retire and cruise around the world? I would so join her for that!! “Oh my god! I soooo remember! Come on ma, tell me!” I grabbed her hand, to assist her in believing I had forgotten. “Don’t lie dear… you forgot didn’t you!”

I nodded and bit my lower lip in admittance before excitedly grabbing her hand again. “Pleaseeeee tell me! your here now! you promised!” I waited with bated breath as my mother patted my hand. Mary Alice and Sam sat just as still. “Well….. I met someone…..and…… He is 37………………And-we-are-getting-married.”

6 Comments leave one →
  1. October 13, 2011 9:39 am

    “Love that is not madness is not love.” ~ Pedro Calderon de la Barca

  2. October 10, 2011 12:20 pm

    “Love conquers all.” ~ Virgil

  3. October 9, 2011 2:21 pm

    “Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity.” ~ Henry Van Dyke

  4. October 9, 2011 7:40 am

    “Your words are my food, your breath my wine. You are everything to me.” ~ Sarah Bernhardt

  5. September 29, 2011 2:15 pm

    “The moment you have in your heart this extraordinary thing called love and feel the depth, the delight, the ecstasy of it, you will discover that for you the world is transformed.” ~ Jiddu Krishnamurti

  6. September 17, 2011 1:50 am

    I can’t imagine my mother flirting with anyone. Must be embarrassing! Yuck!

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