May 3rd, 1989
I was so tired driving home this morning that I got lost, which added an extra thirty minutes to an already lengthy drive home in rush hour traffic.
The second I came in the door, mum began asking questions about my trip and wanted to know pretty much everything that had transpired in the few days I’ve been away.
I sat at the kitchen table with tea and toast and in my state of exhaustion, with mum firing questions at me, I mistakenly mumbled a sentence with the words “American,” “guy,” and “Travis” and watched as mum’s face lit up. She came and sat across from me.
“So, this Travis is American?”
I nodded my head yes and tried to look engrossed in my toast. “From Tennessee.”
“Oh, that’s where Elvis was from.”
“Actually, Elvis was born in Mississippi. He moved to Tennessee when he was a teenager. And of course he died there, at Graceland.”
“How do you know all that? You were only ten when Elvis died.”
“Dad and I were talking about him one night and you know what dad’s like when he gets into something. He gives you every detail, whether you want it or not.”
“Aye, he does that. That man can talk about anything.”
“Anyway, getting back to Elvis, did you know…”
“Och,” she said, waving her hand at me. “That’s enough about Elvis, what about this Travis boy?”
“He was really nice and he was on holiday, well on a cruise actually, with his family to celebrate his grandparents wedding anniversary.”
“Oh, that’s nice. I’ve always fancied going on a wee cruise but I don’t think dad would be too interested in it. How many years?”
I yawned and stretched. “How many years for what?”
Sounding impatient, she asked, “How many years have his granny and granda been married?”
“I have no idea mum,” I said, sounding incredulous. “It’s not something I thought to ask someone I just met.”
“It was probably their Golden.”
“How many years is that?” I asked.
I drained the last of my tea. “Yeah, it was probably that one.”
“What age was this Travis?”
“His name was Travis, mum. Not this Travis.”
“Aye well, you know what I mean. Was he older than you?”
Shaking my head no, I said, “No, same age.”
“Oh really? I thought by the way you were talking about him earlier, he was older.”
Not only could I feel my eyes closing but could feel my patience wearing thin and I didn’t want to start sounding snippy. “Thank you for the tea and toast, mum. I’m going up to take a bath and after that I imagine I’ll sleep for most of the day.”
I hated the look of disappointment on her face.
“You know what mum, with another pot of tea I can probably stay up a bit longer. And do we have any biscuits?”
It’s now half past nine and I’ve been up all day. I’m really looking forward to finishing this and shutting off the light. I feel like my emotions are all over the place today. I was really hoping for at least a letter from Ben or at a stretch, maybe a phone call, but it was not to be.
I read somewhere, a while ago, that being on the pill can knock your hormones off-balance. If I believed the pill was responsible for my feeling like this, I’d stop taking it tonight. It’s not as if my lifestyle at the moment requires contraception.