An Afternoon Visit

The day is brighter. Sunshine pokes through the clouds.

“I’m sorry I made such a mess of everything mum.”

“I always thought you’d come back with one of those Thai brides. It would have been nice for you to have someone.”

“None of them would have me.”

“You do talk rubbish.”

“How have things been? I was sorry I didn’t come to see you straight away.”

“It’s okay. Things have been fine. The weather’s been nice.”

“For the past sixteen years.”

“Well… Good days and bad days. You know. I love the flowers by the way.”

“Yeah… I know how much you like daffodils. It’s hard to get them this time of year but I probably won’t be here for the spring.”

“They do make everything seem brighter don’t they?”

“Yes. They do.”

“Have you blown all your money yet ?”

“No. I’m doing fine.”

“I was worried you’d blow it all on women, drink and gambling like your dad.”

“I never gamble.”

“When you were young you had so many ambitions. I know I shouldn’t say this but I’m sad you never put your talents to better use.”

“I don’t think anyone else saw me as having any talents mum.”

“That’s not true. You just give up too easily. You were always the same. It’s why you don’t like sport. If you’d just taken up rugby or something it might have given you some stomach for winning and losing.”

“I just never wanted to do anything where you have to wear shorts. I don’t have the knees for it.”

“You used to be such a good painter. One art school turned you down and gave it all up.”

“I know. I’m a big giver upper. I never face the music… I know… I wasn’t around when you got sick. It was… I just…”

“It’s okay. I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“When are you going back? Back to your tropical paradise.”

“It’s no paradise. It’s just I feel I have a bit more of a life there than I do here. And I don’t know when I’m going back… Soon. A couple of weeks maybe.”

“Don’t forget to write.”

“I won’t.”

“It’s all you have left really.”

“I know.”

Her grave looks so stark. And I’m like some stupid cunt sitting here imagining her part in some conversation we never had. I hadn’t spoken to her for five years before she died. Now it’s too late.

I put the flowers in the vase in front of her stone. It does brighten things up. I know it’s just for me but we need our little illusions. Sometimes they’re the only things that keep us sane.

“Bye mum.”

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