The Decision: Lizzie's Story
Page 19
“I don’t know what I want to do.” I admitted.
Mum smiled. “Let’s talk about it.” She said.
Epilogue
So I made my decision.
Mum and I talked for hours, on our own; the girls and Dad were banned at first. Sal’s desperation to make me see her point of view included texting me from her bedroom, leading to Dad confiscating her phone. Hannah was also spotted attempting to see into the kitchen from the patio where she pretended to be looking for Mum’s allegedly escaped cat (which was under the bed, like he always was). Despite these minor hiccups, Mum and I were able to have a conversation that focused entirely on what I wanted, no one else. We talked through all the elements that mattered: Mike. University. My future. Not once did Mum insist I consider her thoughts and feelings, though I asked her a couple of times. Instinctively, she seemed to know I was asking her to lead me towards a conclusion and she skillfully opposed me.
“It’s up to you.” She confirmed.
There were barbed comments from Sal and a few incredulous questions from Amanda and Hannah. Mum and Dad batted these away for me, telling them it was my business, not theirs and ignoring the shrieks of indignation I was their sister: of course it concerned them! I was grateful for Mum and Dad’s support and understood my sisters were too young to really understand. Perhaps I wouldn’t have either, had it been one of them in my place.
The days that followed were a blur; it was only weeks later I really understood the ramifications of my decision. The fear that had gripped me had lessened; the trepidation had gone. I got the A Level results I was predicted, but decided to defer my place at university for a year: not because I was afraid of going, but because I wanted to reassess the course and whether it was really what I wanted. I had begun to wonder if I had chosen it simply to “get out” of the area and considering the fees and costs I would incur during the three years I would be away, I needed to know for certain it was the right choice. I took a job at a newsagent’s in town, where I planned to read all their magazines and newspapers, not to mention scour every prospectus at every university I was interested in.
Of course, deferring meant staying behind and waving off Shona and Mike. Shona went first, taking a ridiculous amount of baggage with her and even a hat stand. Her Mum was driving her to London in the Jaguar and I told Shona she should look up Chloe Bensham. Shona just smiled vaguely, not even remembering who Chloe was. Typical Shona. As she got in the car she told me she loved me and she’d be back every weekend. I knew she wouldn’t. Saying goodbye to Mike proved more difficult. We had barely spoken in recent weeks. Though I had told him about the pregnancy – I had followed through on my promise – his reaction had been lukewarm at best, as I had supposed. When I told him of my decision and my thoughts on our relationship (or lack of one), his relief had been palpable. But now, his confusion was evident: we both knew the moment he got on the train to go to university, our relationship was officially over. Perhaps fear of the future and the unknown made him wish this wasn’t so, because as I wished him well, he suddenly hugged me and uncharacteristically proclaimed:
“I love you.”
I untangled myself and smiled. Tears had sprung up in the corner of my eyes, but I blinked them back. “’Bye Mike.” I sighed.
So Mike got on the train, his face a picture of puzzlement. I watched it pull out from the station as Mum appeared on the platform next to me. “You all right?” she said, guardedly.
“Fine.” I said, genuinely.
Travelling back to the house in the car with Mum, I looked out the window pretending to watch the passing fields, but really considering my own reflection in the glass. Since regarding my stricken face in the aluminium mirror of those grotty toilets in town all those weeks ago, I finally felt at peace.
My decision was the right one for me.
THE END