Read Blemished, The for Free Online

entered Angela’s tiny terraced house and the moment was over.  
    “Mina, would you like some mint tea?” Angela’s mum asked.
    We sat in Angela’s kitchen, a room small enough to be cosy but large enough for a round table and four chairs. I liked Angela’s house because it exuded the same approachable warmth as her personality. Everything chintzed and clashed; the table cloth was worn and patterned with birds, the chairs and sofa covered in tatty doilies. But it had a charm. I felt welcome and comfortable.  
    “That would be nice, Mrs Dixon,” I replied.
    “Oh, please, call me Theresa.” She smiled warmly and busied herself in the kitchen.
    “Angela?” Theresa asked as she mashed up mint leaves.
    “Yes, Mum, I’ll have one.”
    I watched Theresa grind the mint leaves with a pestle and mortar. “Do you grow the mint?”
    She turned and smiled. “Yes, we do. We have a small patch in the garden. Have you just moved into your house, Mina? You must need seeds and cuttings.” She turned back to her work, the pestle moving rhythmically in her fingers. “It’s March in a few weeks and you can start planting things out. We have lettuce, mint and rosemary seeds.”
    “That’s very kind, thank you.” It was a genero us offer. The Ministry restricted sales of anything the Blemished could grow – they liked to control our food.
    “You know, you seem like just a lovely girl, Mina. I’m glad Angela has finally found a friend,” she said with a wide goofy grin like her daughter ’s.
    “Mum!” Angela said aghast. “Don’t embarrass me!”
    Theresa laughed. “Oh, darling. Don’t be silly.”
    I was taken aback by Theresa’s kind words. It had been a long time since I’d heard praise like that. My cheeks warmed at the surprise.
    “How are you settling into the school?” she asked as she pulled another handful of mint from the kitchen plant and tossed it into the small marble bowl. She poured a little water into the bowl and continued to grind.
    “A few teething problems but not so––” I began.
    “I used to make this tea for Paul,” Theresa said, interrupting me. “He really liked it.” She stopped mashing and placed down the pestle. For a moment she looked confused and her eyes glazed over like she was lost in a memory. “Where is Paul? He’s late home from work.”
    “Mum, are you okay?” Angela asked in a testing voice. She stood up and walked over to her mother. “I’ll finish that up, Mum. Why don’t you go and have a rest?”
    Angela manoeuvred her mother in practised style. It was as though a completely different person had invaded her body.
    “Will you make one for Paul?” Theresa said to her daughter. “He’s sure to be home soon.”
    “Of course I will.” Angela led her mum through the kitchen. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said to me as they left.
    “Sure.” I tried to smile but it felt false. I busied myself by getting up and pouring the tea. When Angela came back she looked older.
    “I don’t know what’s happening to her,” she said. I handed her a tea-cup and we sat down at the kitchen table like two old friends meeting for a chat. “That’s the second time she’s forgotten things. You never know what is going to trigger it.” She smiled thinly. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
    “None of our parents are perfect,” I replied. I sipped my tea. The tea-cups matched the Dixon’s style, delicately patterned with cherry blossom trees. I wanted to do something consoling, like Angela would for me, but I didn’t feel like I had her easy way with gestures or words. “Is Paul someone important to your mum?”
    “He’s my dad. He went away a few years ago to work in Area 9 as a miner, and we haven’t heard from him since.” Angela sipped her tea, her eyes staying deliberately steely.
    “I’m sorry,” I said. “My mum left too.”
    “Where did she go?”
    I looked around the room as though afraid of spies in the shadows. Could I really tell a