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angry ones gone.
    â€˜David, I don’t want to stop you from seeing your dad. You will, for certain. But leave it a while. That’s all I’m asking. Can you do that much for me?’
    â€˜Why can’t I see him today?’
    â€˜Because’ – long dramatic sigh – ‘in case you’ve forgotten, last night he – ’
    â€˜Okay! I know what happened. And I’m over it.’
    â€˜But I’m not. Wait a few days and then we’ll talk about it. Can we agree on that?’
    â€˜What happens in a few days? Do I get to see him then?’
    â€˜I’ll think about it.’
    â€˜Yeah, right. I know what that means. You can’t brush me off like that. I want to see him.’
    Mum looks away and folds her arms, shutting me out. She has brown hair the colour of chocolate. It’s short and straight and drifts down to just above her forehead. Dad used to massage her head at night and she’d go to sleep on the lounge in front of the TV. Long after Allie and I went to bed Dad would sit with Mum, the TV off, the light off. He’d rub her head for hours. There were so many little things like that. The easy smiles, holding hands, notes they left for each other, always ending with a line of kisses. I don’t understand how they could go from that to this. The more I think about it, the more questions I find.
    â€˜Mum?’
    â€˜Yes?’
    â€˜What started all the fighting between you two?’
    â€˜That’s a big subject. I don’t think I’ve got time to go into the whole thing now, David.’
    â€˜I don’t want every detail. Just give me a clue.’
    â€˜Well, there were a lot of reasons. Basically, your father became jealous – about my career. It all sprang from there.’
    â€˜But, Mum, he encouraged you all the time. He wanted you to make it. He was proud of you, I know that for sure.’
    â€˜I’ll always be grateful for how much your dad helped me. But then I was promoted. It happened at the sametime as his business was failing. I’d come home full of stories about how wonderful my job was, and I didn’t stop to think that it was hurting him. He became bitter. It just ate him alive.’
    â€˜Can’t you talk about that stuff with him, Mum? Work it out?’
    â€˜Perhaps. Perhaps. In time.’
    Mum lingers on those words. There’s a sadness in the way she says them that I’ve rarely heard from her. Mostly she’s Wonder Woman. Not now. I think of TV footage of people raking through the ashes of burnt-out buildings. That’s what she reminds me of. Only when she checks her watch do I know she’s back with me.
    â€˜I suppose we better get going,’ she says.
    â€˜Have we got a few more minutes, Mum?’
    â€˜If you like. Is there something you wanted to talk about?’
    â€˜I just want to get it clear in my head. About what happened between you two.’
    â€˜I think I just told you.’
    â€˜Yeah, I know. But there was nothing else?’
    â€˜Not really.’
    â€˜I mean … can I ask you something?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜You didn’t have another guy or anything like that?’
    â€˜Is that what your father told you?’
    â€˜Nooo. He doesn’t talk to me about stuff like that. Dadnever says anything bad about you. It’s only me asking.’
    â€˜I see.’
    â€˜It’s something I’ve thought about. I’d be a gutless wonder if I didn’t ask – just so I know once and for all.’
    â€˜No, of course there was no one else.’ She says it quickly, then stares back at me, unblinking.
    â€˜Fair enough, Mum. That’s what I thought. I just had to hear it from you. You don’t mind me asking, do you?’
    â€˜No, I understand. Is there anything else you want to know?’
    â€˜Only one last thing. You said you didn’t love Dad. You didn’t really mean that, did