A Love, a Lie and a False Identity (Louis Tomlinson)

Charlie

Charlie

          ‘Mum, have you seen my notebook anywhere?’ I shouted down the stairs, listening to the rain battering against the window, fighting for attention against my voice. It was always raining where we lived, which was basically the middle of nowhere.

          Marmaduke our aging tabby cat, streaked past me, brushing against my bare ankle as she shot into my room, probably to cower under my bed. She had always hated the sound of the rain, which meant she spent all her time shivering and sneezing in the darkness under my mattress.

          ‘No darling, did you check in the airing cupboard? You know what that blasted cat is like, always hiding things in there,’ my mother Siobhan yelled back from the kitchen, where she was preparing dinner.

          ‘Thanks Mum!’ Just as I headed to the aforementioned cupboard, I heard the doorbell ring. Knowing my mother would be too immersed in her cooking to tear herself away, I sighed and turned round, stomping down the stairs and pulling the door open only to start laughing when I saw my two best friends standing in the doorway looking like drowned rats, despite the fact they both had umbrellas and hoods with them.

          ‘Well, don’t you two look a sight?!’ I chuckled, stepping to the side so they could both come in and dry off, or in Katherine’s case, shake off, as she promptly shook her long black hair rapidly to get all the water off. ‘Kathy! Don’t do that, Mum will go mental if you get dirty water all over the walls!’ I scolded her, but she just shrugged and pulled her mane into a high ponytail at the crown of her head, wrapping it round into a tight bun and tying it with the hairband she always had on her wrist.

          ‘It’ll dry!’ she said breezily, tugging her coat off and hanging it on the hook before swiftly moving towards the kitchen, where I could hear her warmly greeting my mother. Typical Katherine, such a people pleaser, she always did have a way with people. I envied her for that, I could never really stand out in crowd; I was just very ordinary and normal. Sure, my friends and family said I was something special, but they were obligated to say that, thems’ the rules!

          ‘Ignore her, she’s been in a funny mood all day,’ my other best friend Laura said, pulling down her hood to reveal long blonde hair, tied in a plait to the side of her head. I had always thought, ever since we were little, that Laura looked like a Barbie Doll, at least until she spoke. She was the smartest and wittiest person I knew, and could build you up or cut you down with just a few words. She was ruthless, but I loved her none the less.

          ‘Typical Katherine. Come on through, Mum’s making dinner,’ I said, jerking my head in the direction and waiting for Laura to follow me. My mother’s cooking was legendary in Gorey, the town where we lived in Ireland. She owned a café in the town centre and most days it was absolutely packed, and her desserts, particularly her carrot and lemon cake, were her best sellers and were probably what kept a roof over our heads.

          ‘Laura! Katherine! How have you been?’ my mum chirped, her shirt sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her forearms covered with flour. Her brown hair with a few streaks of light grey running through it was piled messily on top of her head, and her glasses perched just above her forehead. No doubt she would forget where they were in a couple of hours. Mum was known for being a bit of a scatterbrain.

          ‘Great, Mrs Holloway, how are you?’

          ‘Laura, how many times do I have to tell you, please call me Siobhan? Mrs Holloway was my mother-in-law, and I definitely don’t want to be reminded of her,’ my mother said, and though she had a smile on her face as she spoke, I could see the crease between her eyebrows that appeared whenever we spoke about my paternal grandmother. The grandmother I hadn’t seen in eight years, after she had forgone any kind of contact with us after my father had abandoned us. She was a different breed of human, my mother often said, and didn’t like to socialise with the likes of us.