April 12th, 1989
The other day, when I was sitting in the garden with mum and dad, my dad commented that I hadn’t been around much so I thought I’d make an effort to stay home tonight. It’s probably just as well because Ben and I didn’t exactly have a stellar day.
I wasn’t expecting Ben to be going to Spain so soon, so it’s been a bit of a shock to say the least finding out he’ll be leaving again, in what feels like no time. Of course I’ll go and visit him in Spain but after this present stretch of leave, I have no idea when I’ll have more time off. I’m making a conscious decision not to allow my mind to veer into that territory at the moment.
Went to the city centre with Ben in search of shoes but I soon got fed up looking (I hate that feeling when you look around for ages and nothing pops out at you.) We went for lunch and everything seemed to be going ok until Ben asked if I wanted dessert.
“Let’s at least look at the menu,” I suggested.
“You already know everything they have here.”
“There might be something new.”
“There won’t be,” he said, sounding impatient.
“Well, I’d still like to take a look.”
“Then you go right ahead,” he said in a snippy tone.
Of course hearing that spoiled any appetite I had left so I suggested we leave.
“No, no, not until you look at the menu,” he insisted.
“I’m done,” I said, getting up.
We walked in silence to where my car was parked and both went to the driver’s side.
“I’ll drive,” I stated.
“I don’t mind driving.”
“Nor do I. Can I have my keys please?” I only said “my” because I was still annoyed with him.
He handed the keys to me and when we got into the car he asked, “Is this because I’m leaving so soon?”
“No, it’s because you were just really horrible to me.”
“Why do you say that?” he asked.
“Because it’s true.”
I dropped Ben off and obviously didn’t get invited in, not that I would have gone in anyway. When I drove off, I felt like crying but I know I need to stop letting him upset me so much. Maybe at times like that I just need to be more confident and speak up.
I came straight home and mum was out. When dad came home from work I asked him if he fancied Chinese food for dinner.
“Oh aye hen, I’ve no had a curry for ages.”
“Nor have I. No doubt mum will want curry as well, probably chicken? Do you know where she is?”
“Aye, she’s helping Janice with curtains or something at the house but she’ll be home anytime now. I’ll come with you. I’ll leave her a wee note.”
Dad started rummaging through the kitchen drawer that holds everything we don’t need while I went into the hall to put my jacket on. Just at that moment, mum got home. As is typical of mum, she asked three hundred questions, none of which she necessarily wanted an answer to, except for when she asked, “What are you doing with your jacket on?”
“I thought we could get Chinese for dinner. Would you like a chicken curry?”
“Oh aye, I’ve no had a curry for ages.”
I started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“I’ll come with you,” she said.
I looked at dad. His expression said, “Go ahead.”
“We’ll be right back, dad.”
“Alright hen, I’ll set the table. Oh and Karen…”
“Get a big bag of prawn crackers as well.”