“Overreacting! Two minutes in her presence and he’s forgotten all about my mum…”
Lucy looks stunned. She’s never seen Eve this mad. She turns to go, saying, “I’m going to get Matthew.”
“Yeah, right! Good luck with that,” shouts Eve.
Just then Matthew appears. He takes in Eve’s appearance. Her eyes are completely swollen and tears are falling down her face.
“Darling, there you are…”
“Good luck,” Lucy says as she passes him on her way back into the café, looking relieved to get away from the drama.
Eve looks at her dad. Pointing her finger once more, Eve says, “Don’t you dare try and act concerned about where I am.”
Trying to calm the situation, but failing miserably, Matthew says, “Eve – please, we really don’t have time for this.”
With her blood boiling and her head beginning to hurt from all the shouting, Eve no longer has any desire to engage in a conversation with her dad. Wiping her face in frustration, she gets in the car. The energy, the emotions, the atmosphere, is the complete opposite from earlier – and this time, when Matthew gets in, there’s no exchanging pleasantries. The doors are slammed, the radio is off and the vibrational energy that’s forcing itself from their physical forms becomes present in the car. They are more distant than ever and an awkward silence settles in as they begin to drive away from the café. They’re both so wrapped up in their own pain that they don’t notice Jess is at the café window, watching them leave.
Jess peers through the gaps between the leaflets and posters stuck on the glass. With a somewhat cagey and proud expression upon her face, her eyes begin to spark. They’re lighting up and appear to have an air of secrecy hidden within them. Holding onto the locket around her neck, she begins twiddling it between her fingers. Her expression turns mysterious and satisfied, a deceitful smirk creeping onto her face. As the car slowly moves past the window of the café, her sole attention and focus is on Eve. Her eyes begin to darken, an eerie mist forming spontaneously around her. Jess tilts her head conceitedly as Matthew and Eve go out of sight.
Matthew and Eve are both deep in thought. It’s extremely awkward. Neither of them want to upset or hurt the other anymore than they already have, so they both choose to say nothing. As the clock ticks and the silence becomes deafening, the further apart emotionally these two are growing. It seems impossible for either of them to make the first move towards correcting this. Matthew and Eve are very much stuck in this process. Like a Mexican standoff, they’ve both decided to continue with their protest, shut down, switch off and dismiss one another. With their energy now supressed, you can see the confusion. How did they get to this point? They were fine less than an hour ago and now, you would think these two are strangers.
Eve looks out the window at some birds flying high overhead. They are so free in the sky. Eve visualises her mum’s beautiful face in the clouds as she imagines gliding down the side of the huge mountain. She embraces the fall as she’s flying free, making her way to the bottom. Suddenly she hits the rocks, head first.
She feels content at this image of her death. Eve is filled with rage and has mentally taken ten steps back. Her sole desire is to free herself from this misery she must now call life. With these dark thoughts filling her mind, Eve can’t help but conclude that it would be her best solution. At least that way, if she did free herself and commit suicide, she would once again be reunited with her mum.
Matthew pulls into the huge car park at the Honey Productions office. Although he’s the boss, he doesn’t have a designated space at the front of the building; he firmly believes in equality. He drives round until he eventually finds a space and parks up. Turning off the engine, Matthew looks to Eve.
“You ready?” he says.
Not wanting to give her dad the satisfaction of eye contact, Eve stares out the window. “No – I’m staying here,” she says, just loud enough for him to hear.
“What? This meeting was booked with the attendance of us both. Eve, as you know, sometimes life throws things at us but what you have to do is carry on.” Leaning across to Eve he continues, “Darling, this is the real world now. Come on, kidda, it’s a simple meeting and I promise it won’t take long. Just snap out of whatever this is and come in with me.” Attempting to lighten the mood he says, “You can see what it’s like behind the scenes of the Honey Empire, ready for when you take the reins one day.”
“What, the empire you built with my mum? I said I’m staying here, end of!”
“Yes, me and your mum built this together. We did this for you, Evelyn Jade. So that you would have the best start and future.” Getting no response, Matthew continues, “Oh, Eve, why must you be so stubborn?”
“Stubborn! Just keep the insults coming why don’t you, Dad? I said I’m staying here; I don’t want to come to your poxy meeting. I don’t want to watch you with another woman, and I certainly don’t want to go in there and smile to a bunch of people I don’t care about while you act like everything’s okay. Well, it’s not okay, Dad!”
“Right, well this is what pays the bills, Eve, and your music lessons, and holidays and everything else you want –so I must attend this meeting. Like I said before, I won’t be long.”
Matthew gets out of the car and slams the door. He corrects his suit. Heading to the back of the car he grabs his briefcase from the back seat and shuts the car door, this time gently. He sets off across the busy car park towards the building. Once again, Eve removes her gaze from her dad’s direction.
Now alone with her thoughts, she reaches for the cream, leather-covered glove compartment and pulls the catch to open it. Rummaging around, she begins lifting the papers at the front. She grabs an old-looking brown leather-backed book. Gazing at it in her hands triggers a memory of a session with her therapist, Josie…
Josie sits in her usual high-back Chesterfield chair. Eve is sat on the L-shaped couch across from her. She feels exhausted. She just has enough oomph to listen to what Josie is saying.
“Eve, it is hugely important to write out your frustration. The pen to paper technique is the best process for everyone when it comes to healing – the idea behind using a pen, instead of typing, is that with every unique movement that your hand makes, you activate cells within your brain and, as these cells activate, your mind is caused to think. You are, in effect, distracting yourself and your mind from the aggression you have built up. Once you have created this distraction, your mind will naturally begin to release the pent-up anger as you write each word. I encourage you, Eve, to always have a pen and paper easily accessible – this will help inspire you to write down any negative thoughts that you are either holding on to or creating within your mind. The best way to think of this technique is as though you are painting the picture that’s being held in your mind. The images you see through your sight, and the anger you feel, you can let go of, but instead of painting the picture in a drawing you’re painting the picture in words. Words create thoughts.”
Eve simply stares numbly as Josie continues, “Eve, it doesn’t matter if only you can understand what’s written – as long as you are thinking, hearing and releasing the words as you write them, you will begin to free the anger from your mind whilst at the same time letting go of your attachment to this.”
Opening the leather-backed book, Eve begins turning the pages, quickly flicking through. The yellow pages fly by one after the other, each one filled with black lines and masses of writing. Every word has been written in scrawling joined writing with blue ink. Without acknowledging the content on the pages, she reaches a blank page. Taking out her blue pen from the glove compartment she writes the following:
“So, today’s the day. I knew this would come, the day dad forgets all about you and moves on, like you never existed, like you’re not a part of me too. Why should I have to sit and watch him forget that you were ever part of our lives?
If he carries this on, Mum, I promise you, I’m coming. I will join you in the afterlife.
I can’t be expected to live a lie while watching him play happy family with another woman. I’m just not strong enough, Mum; you would have known that, so how can Dad not?
Argh, why’s Dad being a complete dick? Mum, why did you have to leave us?
I hate myself! Why did you have to go?
Dropping the pen on the page, Eve raises her head to the sky. Getting teary-eyed, she knows her mum isn’t coming back and unless she commits suicide and the afterlife is real, she isn’t going to be reunited with her anytime soon.
An emotional wreck, Eve’s now feeling powerless and broken. She’s uncontrollably shedding tears. Each pear-shaped drop contains her pain and these begin to fall down her face, quicker than the rain travels from the sky and hits the ground on a stormy night. Eve’s becoming more and more inconsolable by the second. She picks up her pen, looks to the page, which now holds her tears, and writes these four heart-breaking words:
It’s all my fault!
Time passes quickly, and soon enough Matthew appears from out of the building. Eve becomes uncomfortable; she doesn’t want her dad to see her this way and desperately tries to hide her depression and compose herself. She shoves the book and the pen back into the glove compartment, slamming the door shut. She flicks down the sun visor on the car, slides back the small cover and reveals the tiny hidden mirror. Staring at her pale blotchy face, Eve frantically tries to disguise the redness as she quickly wipes her eyes. Without success, she reaches to the side of the car door and pulls out her huge expensive designer black sunglasses with gold trimming; she places these on her face in a last-ditch attempt to hide her suffering.
With her elbow on the window ledge of the car door again, this time she isn’t full of life. She’s resting her forehead in the palm of her hand, hiding her inner expression of sheer hopelessness. Eve would love nothing more than for her mum to appear magically.
Matthew gets in the car and endeavours to make conversation with Eve. “Evelyn Jade Honey – please speak to me,” he says, his voice low. Looking across at his daughter with an expression of complete despair and helplessness, he continues, “Why did you react that way in the café?”
Eve is still withdrawn and not ready to speak. She continues to look out of the window.
“I can’t help you if you don’t open up to me…”
Eve’s still listening to her inner voice.
Don’t fall for it, Eve, he’s trying to sweet talk you. Remember, he didn’t chase after you at the café. No, he stayed with her. You’re right, he’s wrong, don’t answer him.
The voice in Eve’s mind is getting louder and louder as she tunes in and receives the words it’s feeding her. Choosing to take the advice, Eve remains withdrawn.
Matthew once again attempts to speak to his daughter. “Darling, please – you should know there isn’t a woman in the universe who could replace your mum. I ask you, Evelyn Jade, can I not have a female friend?”
Still Matthew receives no response from Eve. He begins to sigh as he looks down at the floor of the car, his head now hanging low and heavy. Matthew doesn’t want to give up, but he also doesn’t know what to do, or where to turn. What he is clear on is that his daughter is seriously unhappy at the thought of him potentially becoming happy. Is he supposed to be alone forever? Matthew starts the car. Reaching out to put it into first gear, he looks up as small raindrops begin to hit the windscreen one after the other. The sky suddenly becomes overcast and dark. He looks to his left with sorrow deep in his eyes, the same eyes which this morning were filled with life and love as he was sharing precious moments with his blessing, his best friend, his Eve. He can’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of inner sadness. No more smiles, no more laughter. She’s staring out the window and no longer acknowledging his existence.
Eve hasn’t moved an inch since he entered the car. With her sunglasses on she appears to be looking into a dark abyss, deep in thought. Matthew notices a tear roll down her cheek, which she quickly wipes away.
What should he do? He really hasn’t got a clue. Reversing out of the parking space, Matthew prays the answers will be shown to him.
Chapter Four
The Arrival
Matthew is in his airy, brand-new, bright white painted kitchen, surrounded by pots and pans. He’s dressed in relaxed casual clothes under his macho pinafore. He’s got the radio on and is dancing away in what can only be described as an embarrassing dad-like fashion. He’s immensely happy, even after the day’s events. He’s completely enjoying the moment alone. He’s decided he’s putting all his energy into this evening; he’s confident Eve will snap out of her mood soon. He’s getting excited at the thought of actually having a date, after being alone for so long.
Making his way over to the fridge, he grabs the grey metal tray containing four large seasoned raw chicken breasts. Reaching into the drawer at the side of the fridge, he pulls out his white latex gloves. Pulling these onto his hands, he sets about dicing the chicken on the red meat chopping board. The oven is preheating and the accompanying ingredients have also been diced and are lying neatly on the black marble surface top of the grey kitchen island. Matthew’s suffers from obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD); this means everything must be colour coded and have its own place. The red peppers have been chopped with precision and perfection and are organised into a neat little pile, as are the green peppers, mushrooms, herb-coated new potatoes and red onions. Grabbing a frying pan from the oversized matte black hanging pot rack above his head, he makes his way over to the huge modern built-in black Range cooker and begins frying the chicken. His thoughts begin to drift; he wonders how this evening is going to progress. Will it get worse, will it get better, will they discover family life is again complete and live in blissful harmony? Who knows…?
The radio is still blaring and Matthew starts to shake his extremely toned butt, dancing and singing along, showing his best Salt and Pepa tribute routine to the chicken in the frying pan.
Eve sits in her bedroom in complete silence. She has decided that she’s taking no part in the charade her dad is creating downstairs. The room is bright, clean and filled with all her favourite things. The walls are the same as every wall in the house, painted only with the purest white. The only colour present within the room is on the curtains that hang off the pole, her floral bedsheets and the small heart-shaped mosaic of photographs she’s created over her bed, made up of photos of her and her mum. There is also a small en-suite in her room which contains a shower cubicle, toilet and a small white ceramic sink with a mirror above it, also in the shape of a heart. Next to the en-suite is a balcony that overlooks the sea.
Sat on her neatly made bed wearing her ripped jeans and grey casual t-shirt, Eve holds a scruffy-looking brown teddy bear tightly to her chest. He has a grubby red and white polka dot bow-tie around his neck. It’s obvious that this delicate bear has been smothered with love by the signs of wear and tear on his fluffy body. Half of his right ear is missing and there is stuffing sticking out of his black button eyes. This is one of her most cherished possessions. The bear she holds so tightly and smothers with love was her mum’s. His name is Gregg. This bear knew her mum longer than any of them; he was a gift from her grandmother when she was born. Her mum treasured Gregg always, and when Eve was a child, she would never let her play with the delicate bear for fear that he would fall apart. When her mum died, Eve and her dad were sorting through her mum’s possessions when Eve found Gregg tucked away in a shoebox, wrapped in gold tissue paper. As she lifted him out, she saw his features; they were a true reflection of her emotions. With Gregg in her hands looking sad, lost and lonely, she couldn’t help it. Immediately she broke down crying. Gregg had lost his owner too. Eve has kept him close ever since. She now has her own personal strong connection with Gregg, just like her mum. Looking into his deep black bu
tton eyes, she says, “I never meant for any of this to happen.”
Lauren Honey didn’t die due to Mother Nature, she wasn’t struck down with an illness, it wasn’t a long process that everyone’s mind could get used to before the inevitable happened. Lauren was in fact killed.
The doorbell rings loudly. Matthew looks at his watch and sees it is 7.30. He walks out of the kitchen, slicking the sides of his hair back with both his hands. He appears to be in a slight fluster; his palms are sweating, and he gives himself a pep talk as he makes his way to the door.
“Just be yourself, Matthew. Just be yourself.”
At the bottom of the stairs, next to the front door, there’s a grand floor-length mirror with a thick gold frame. Lauren chose the majority of the decor in the house; this item was her favourite. She had a very keen eye for interior design and she loved how this particular mirror opened up the doorway.
He takes a moment to check himself out in the mirror. He has dressed to impress in his dark denim designer jeans, navy-blue shirt and deep navy-blue blazer jacket. As he straightens himself up, he can’t help but look at his reflection and see the truth: he may be externally oozing confidence, but internally he’s apprehensive and nervous. He’s still confused and struggling to work out what’s so captivating about this woman. He can’t help himself; Matthew feels like a teenager all over again, with butterflies in his stomach and hope in his heart. Hope that destiny and fate may not have forgotten about him after all. He understands and accepts that he will never have another soul mate – you only get one. But sometimes he gets lonely and longs for that wonderful adult connection. He knows Eve will one day grow and live a blessed life with another, and rightly so: this is what he desires for her to have, a life of freedom.
The Broken Page 3
