During that morning at home, I kept thinking about the possible outcomes of this visit. I tried not to think the worst but that is all that seemed to fill my head. Trying to find something else to worry about I wandered into Mum’s room. I found her standing in front of the mirror getting ready to go. She saw me in the mirror but just continued beautifying herself. She was dressed smartly and was applying her make-up as if this was just a chance to show off. I watched her for a while and there was something provocative and spiteful about her, as if she had changed to a different person I didn’t know. I lay on her bed and just stared at the ceiling trying to make sense of my first encounter with the confusion of the real, adult world.
A few minutes later Mum had ushered me off of her bed and out of her room and told me to put my shoes and coat on. Instinctively, I went to help my brother put his shoes on because I knew that’s what Mum actually meant. He was three years younger than me but I didn’t appreciate that he wouldn’t understand the importance of this visit long awaited by Mum. I kept talking to him and sharing my feelings but the only response I got was “where are we going, rach?” Since I didn’t know the answer to this question I stopped talking and proceeded to tie his shoe laces.
In the car, on the way to this unknown place I sat in the back seat in a daze. I saw my brother trying to glance out of the window but still seeming quite content so I thought I would follow his lead. Just tall enough to look out of the window, I stretched up and expected to see a miracle but all that I could see were blurs of grey barrier and other cars passing by. I watched as huge, overhanging trees seemed to rush past as I tried to absorb myself in counting how many there were but I was too involved in my own thoughts. Mum made conversation every so often by saying things like “are you ok?” or “won’t be long now.” I replied with one-word answers – “yes” and “ok.” I felt very fragile but with a bizarre anger burning inside, like a fire. If you poke it, it flares more fiercely so the best thing to do is stay away.
When we arrived at the building Mum encouraged me to get out of the car while she got my brother out of his car seat. The building was a dull, concrete, lifeless place which someone could easily have mistaken for an indoor cemetery. Mum walked ahead with my brother in her arms as I cautiously followed. Inside, Mum spoke to the receptionist and just seconds later a lady came to meet us and showed us where to wait. I quickly realised that we were waiting for Dad. A group of thoughts rushed into my mind. “Will I still recognize him?” “Will he remember me?” “Will he be happy to see me?” I was busy trying to answer my questions when I looked up and saw him walking towards us. I felt a lump in my throat from excitement and felt an adrenalin rush just from seeing him. I rushed towards him and was greeted by an overwhelming sense of love and a familiar smell of aftershave which I had missed so much. His whole face seemed to glow when he reached out and hugged me for the first time in six months. My brother wriggled away from Mum and clumsily ran towards us. He was also swept into Dad’s arms and for that moment the world was no longer cruel. “Dad, your hair,” remarked my brother. “Yes, do you like it?” The comforting sound of Dad’s voice filled me with happiness which must have been visible because Mum scowled and muttered “OK, enough now.” Dad put both of us down gently and we were shown the way along a corridor to an open door.
As soon as I stepped into the room I felt the tension wafting towards me and yet I was in a place with the people who I cared for and respected the most. Even at the young age that I was I could sense the anger in Mum’s heart just waiting for Dad to make a mistake and the pressure on Dad to make a good time out of the fake environment. The “horrible lady” was watching us – Dad, my brother and I through a window with Mum by her side, occasionally scribbling down notes on her notepad. I couldn’t help but hate her, I had never met her but I knew that she could be the person to take my Dad away from me.
The room was quite large with dull carpet and walls. It had limited furniture – chairs, table, cupboard, but I still felt enclosed. There was a musty smell which filled the room and odd colourful yet threatening children’s toys on the floor. I glanced up at horrible lady every so often and she always seemed to make me feel more uncomfortable than I already was.
Dad reached into his bag and first handed my brother, Sam, some of his favourite toy cars, then handed me my teddybear and some milk in a toy milk bottle to feed it. I felt an uncomfortable silence in the air and, still conscious of Mum and horrible lady watching through the window, I hugged the bear and then hugged Dad and clearly and obviously said “thank you Dad,” then I turned my head towards the door and wanted horrible lady to come in and say “you can all go now,” but she didn’t. Feeling the awkwardness and seeing the look of sadness concealed by a smile on Dad’s face, I turned to Sam and realised how blissfully unaware of the situation he was. He was happy to just watch the trains pass by the window as if he had blocked the real world out and had created his own world. Getting no feeling of security from Sam I turned and looked at Mum and horrible lady through the window. This was the first time since I arrived in the room that I’d actually studied horrible lady’s face. She had a surprisingly warm, reassuring look on her face and had long, dark hair tied up in a bun. I then turned to Mum and she seemed to be dark and threatening but then quickly smiled when she saw me looking at her.
The time seemed to pass by quite quickly and I was no longer the apprehensive ball of nerves that I was when I first entered the room. I had a strange feeling that this was going to be the first out of many times that I saw Dad. My unexplainable senses that were acutely accurate and had been developed over my six years of life told me that “horrible lady” was going to be the person to reunite me with the feeling of complete blissfulness. The feeling that was only felt when I was with Dad.
