MITHERING SUNDAY

I was sleeping deeply on Ruth's sofa when the phone
sounded, we all ignored it as working girl's do on a
sunday morning after an extreme night on the lash.
I had introduced Ruth and Alex to Mal and they
thought he was delightful (he thought they were ho's
but so what?) Also I was still in that nice, after shag
feeling because of Alan. Oh yeah we had shagged like
dogs later that night and it had been heaven!
Few days later and I'm still floating on air, Alan phones
me most nights, it feels only a matter of time before we
will get back together.
Who ever phoned gave up and I drifted back to sleep.
What seemed like a second had passed then there was
a sharp rat-a-tat-tat on the door. I ignored it, Jehovahs,
not in the mood today.
Ruth answered the door dressed in just a t-shirt, I
heard her swear (twice) then hiss to me:
"Your bitch-sister is waiting in the kitchen with
her brat! Your'd better get up."
"Sister-thing?" I mumbled and fell to the floor, I
crawled along until my knees met tiles. I heard
Aidan laugh, I winked at him.
Raine was standing there with a white face an
a box of Milk Tray. She rolled her eye's when
she saw me. I couldn't make any sense of the
situation at all!
"Becka! It's Mothering Sunday, Ma's day!
please let's get this over quickly! I''ve bought
200 Benson for you to give her."
I didn't argue, Mother's day, her birthday and
Christmas were all solemnly acknowledged on
the off chance that she wouldn't live to see
another one. But the woman was strong damn it!
"Is she still with that creep?" I said.
"Jasper? Oh yes, he's not too bad is he?" Said
Raine.
"He is a sleazy snake, but yeah not as bad as
some of her blokes." (Both of us as girls could
testify that a lot of her boyfriends used to try
to get in bed with us-sometimes succeeding)
"She might ask you about Sir Patrick Beamish."
Warned Raine.
"Hmm, well she can sod off! That's my business."
But truth be told, Patrick hasn't contacted me in
a while. Maybe he thinks it's a bad idea.
"I wonder." Said Sister-thing as she checked the
buttons on Aidan's little parka:"Whether my father
is Mr Martin after all."
I bit my tongue.
"Who knows? Don't ask her today though, enough
drama already!"
I telephoned a cab.
"Why isn't D here?" I asked.
"Because he thinks Ma's the Antichrist."
She rooted in the cupboard and finding the biccie
tin gave Aidan a Jaffa cake.
"That's a bit harsh, I'm mean maybe a minor
demon, Antichrist is a bit rough though!"
"He has his reasons." She said darkly.
"I hate my life and my family, every bugger
seems to have their secrets!" I stormed.
"Ah shut up! Of course we do, that's what make's
them secrets. People do have private lifes Becks!"
Then the cabbie came and we were whisked off
into Blue rinse Hades.
Then I realized I still had my pajama bottoms on
a smelt like a brewery.

Becka M