November 5th, 1990


November 5th, 1990

At home, England

On the drive home from Millie’s yesterday, I felt as though I was being held captive by mum!

“Who’s Madison?”

I laughed. “That was my fake name in Antigua.”

“Why’d you do that?”

“We didn’t want anyone knowing our true identities.”

“So, you met this boy William and told him your name was Madison?” Her tone was incredulous and snippy all at the same time.

“It’s not a crime, mum!”

“I’m well aware of that,” she huffed. “But it disnae seem very fair, does it?”

“It’s not like I’ll ever seen him again. Millie and Dolly did the same thing, it wasn’t just me.”

“I don’t like that sort of behaviour from you,” she stated.

“It doesn’t affect you mum. Really, it doesn’t.” I hoped she would leave it at that but I should’ve known better.

“What was he like?”

“Who?” I asked, knowing full well who she was referring to.

“This William character.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Was he like David?”

“Oh no, he was nothing like David. I’d say the only things they have in common are that they’re male and American.”

“But you still liked him, I can tell.”

I didn’t answer.

“You liked him, didn’t you?”

“Mum, think about it. I was on a request trip with the girls. We were on an island. The weather was amazing. The sea sparkled. The rum punch was delicious and plentiful. Need I say more?”


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