Disconnected

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Sherry Ashworth. Disconnected

DISCONNECTED. SHERRY ASHWORTH

Copyright

Dedication

Contents

Prologue

To Mrs Dawes, my English Teacher

To my mother

To Taz

To Mrs Dawes (2)

To Dave

To Taz (2)

To Taz (3)

To Dave (2)

To Taz (4)

To My Mother (2)

To Lucy

To Lucy (2)

To Taz (5)

To Jan

To Dave (3)

To Mrs Dawes (3)

To Taz (6)

To the Examiner

To Lucy (3)

To Dave (4)

To Taz (7)

To Taz (8)

To Dave (5)

If you enjoyed Disconnected, check out Blinded by the Light by Sherry Ashworth

About the Author

About the Publisher

Отрывок из книги

For Avril Bruten

Title Page

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I refused to smile. I was as taut as a bow, watching you, as if I was seeing you for the first time. You didn’t care much about your appearance, you never did. You always laughed when I put on some make-up as if it was a childish, or worse, a rather common thing to do. Your hair was short but almost deliberately dishevelled – clever women didn’t have time to fuss with their hair. That day I remember you wore a grey skirt and a black sweater that screamed Marks & Spencer. You thought you looked classic, timeless, but I could see the little lines that radiated from your lips like cracks on an old oil painting. I observed the tiredness in your eyes. I felt sorry for you and glad I was young. But at the same time, or following on from that, I felt angry at you because you were my mother, which was just so claustrophobic. I didn’t know how to judge myself without using your eyes, your tired, ageing eyes.

When I’m with my friends, I never talk about you. We don’t talk about our parents unless they’re being a pain. It’s good to escape. But then I come home and it’s like living in your shadow – and that’s good, because in some ways you make me feel safe, but in other ways, I want to scream. Is that normal? You’re the doctor. You should know. And I hate it that I think you know everything about me. You never worried when I was ill, and you tell me, all the time, that I’m just going through a developmental stage.

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