Читать книгу When Boys Kiss Boys - Richard Crlik - Страница 10

When the tears had cleared Hope felt both relieved and challenged. It was good to have Ben finally show his emotions and it was good to finally begin to share hers with him. She had made the decision last night to start facing the world and start tackling the responsibilities that she had hidden from with the alcohol and tranquilizers. With Ben at her side she felt more confident that she might just manage.

'Alright darling, we might as well head into town this morning and get some shopping done. I don't think I can stomach another frozen dinner for some time. The cupboards are probably empty, not that I'd know, and I have to face the world sometime. That's as good an excuse as any.'

If she was going to try and cut back on her support system then she needed to keep herself busy.

'Sure mum. I think it's a great idea. Why don't you go and get ready and I'll write a shopping list, oh and hang the washing up or it will start to get that damp smell'.

Ben didn't really think it was such a great idea. It would be just like school with everyone staring and pointing and whispering. Saturday morning shopping was the number one social event for most of the neighbourhood and for most neighbourhoods in the district. As there was only one main shopping centre within a half hour drive then every family around would be there.

The people they didn't know personally like their neighbours or from school, would know them from the local newspaper article that had come out a few days after his father's accident. They had devoted nearly a page on the horrific incident. 'Leading Town Planner in Hit and Run Horror', the headline read.

They had given the full gory details of the tragedy. How his father had been struck down by a car early on the Saturday evening on the highway in a nearby suburb. The police were still looking for the driver who had driven off without stopping.

Then it had gone on to list the major building projects his father had been responsible for around the district. The new Library and Council Chambers, the 'swimmingly stunning' renovations to the local public pool facilities and the much applauded Gateway Shopping Centre.

Not satisfied with that they paper had continued with a short, heart-wrenching article on his mother. 'Former Model Faces Third Tragedy'. There were references, with photographs, to his mum's short modelling career way back to before he was born, some more recent references to the occasional event she had modeled at more recently, including her being the 'special guest star' at the opening of the Gateway Centre two years ago.

They had listed all the famous people she had known, local VIP's first then some more famous names from the fashion and retail world. Finally they had revealed to all that 'Hope Carter is no stranger to tragedy. Her younger brother killed when he fell under a train back in 1960 which was followed by the tragic suicide of her father later that year'.

Ben had thrown away the copy of the paper when it had been left on their driveway, not wanting his mum to see it. He knew that every household in the surrounding suburbs would receive their free copy and probably already have read it. Eagerly lapping up the details, feeling important if they had known the family, however vaguely, gossiping to one and other about it, filling in the missing gaps with hearsay.

He had wondered if anyone else had found some of the facts unusual. Why his father had been where he was at that time on a Saturday evening. He wasn't near his office, which is where he had said he would be, working late as usual, earlier that afternoon. He was not near any current building sites that the company was working on, he wasn't visiting anyone they knew. There was only one person he could have been visiting.

Ben had known exactly where his father had been and what he had been doing. That was why he didn't want his mother to see the paper. It was better for her if she didn't know. Better if she didn't question.

**********

In her new bedroom Hope had pulled a dozen or more items from the wardrobe out and they now lay over her bed or strewn across the floor. It was important to wear the right outfit. She knew that she would be the centre of attention. For once the prospect didn't thrill her. She had to dress with the right amount of propriety. Anything too bright or casual and people would be saying that she didn't care. Anything too dark or sombre and they would be saying she was being dramatic. She knew how small town minds worked.

In the end she wore a purple pants suit. It was over 10 years old and not 'trendy'. She didn't care about trends. She just knew what she liked to wear and what looked good on her. Her wardrobe still had clothes from her modelling days as well as outfits she had bought or made recently. She never threw anything away. It always came back into fashion - or Hope wore it anyway and made it look like it should be back in fashion.

Satisfied with the way she looked she returned to the bathroom. She took out one tranquilizer and cut it in half using her nail file. She popped one half back in the bottle and swallowed the other half, without water, and began applying make-up waiting for the pill to take effect. She was about to throw herself into they baying mob and she couldn't do it completely sober. Besides, she hadn't said she would stop completely. She needed to be in control and 5mg of Mogadon would ensure that she was.

'Oh god, welcome to my sobriety.' Hope said this aloud while looking back at her own reflection in the mirror.