13. Ready?

It was nearly six in the evening, Karl and my brothers had gone out god knows where, my father was in the living-room watching TV whereas my mother was keeping me company in the hall as I waited for Tim. He had texted me about ten minutes ago saying he was leaving his house.

He’ll be here soon enough, I inwardly sighed, my eyes darting to the window.

“I understand what you must be feeling, darling,” my mother went on, oblivious to my total lack of interest “but please honey, don’t anger your mate. Nothing good will come out of that…” And the lecture continued.

When she had told me she’d wait with me, I had been surprised but kept silent, trying to convince myself there was nothing to it. How wrong of me! Since when did she like waiting?

As I gave her yet another bored look – for I had been hearing the same little speech ever since that fateful evening when he had told them the news – and resisted the urge to fake a yawn, knowing she’d b