May 18th, 1990

May 18th, 1990

At home

I was in the kitchen tonight with mum and dad, looking through some brochures I picked up at a model home in Willen Park, when the phone rang.

“Just leave that,” mum said, waving her hand dismissively.

We (mum and I, not dad!) continued with the oohs and ahhhs, as we flicked through the glossy pages of nicely appointed homes, until a few minutes later when the phone rang again.
“Let me see who that is,” I said, heading into the hall. “And I’ll phone them back.”

“Hello?”

“Hey you,” said the all too familiar voice, as my heart deceived me with the little flutter movement.

“Oh, hi Ben, how are you?”

Through the glass wall mum mouthed, “Who is it?”

I mouthed back, “Ben.”

Mum turned to dad and said something that, from the movement of her head, looked disapproving.

“Great, really great.”

“How’s your training going?” I asked.

“It’s good, nice bunch and all that.”

I plopped down in the phone chair. “Excellent, it really helps, especially when the training gets harder.”

“Which I expect will be next week. Listen, I was wondering what you’re up to this weekend.”

“Ehm, this weekend like tomorrow you mean or next weekend?”

He laughed. “Tomorrow.”

The little voice in my head urged, “Don’t do it,” and for once, I listened.

“This weekend is going to be really busy for me.”

“Oh,” he said, his tone flat.

“Don’t volunteer any other information,” the little voice whispered, but this time I ignored it.

“Yeah, sorry, I’ve got a bunch of things to do and I might have a friend from BA coming to visit or maybe stay over and I also have several appointments set up to look at houses so as you can  tell, this weekend is just going to be absolutely hectic.”

The little voice said something like, “You’re lucky I don’t have legs, otherwise I’d kick you right now.”

“Phew,” Ben said, with a little whistle. “You sound really busy.”

“Yes, yes,” I stuttered. “Busy. Really, really busy. But eh, why were you asking?”

“I was thinking of coming home for the weekend. There’s not much going on around here and most of the people I’m training with head home on the weekends.”

“Oh, right. So, are you still coming back?”

Please say yes, please say yes.

“Nah, doesn’t seem much point. I’ll stick it out and come back next weekend. Will you be around then?”

“No, I won’t actually.”

 

I’ll be in Antigua.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s