Dear Iris [h.s]

chapter twenty seven.

Iris Grace

"Iris? Grab a bottle of wine from the fridge and give everyone a top up will you?" My Dad asked, just as I had sat down at the table to start eating.

I haven't missed these dinners where our families sit and talk shit for a few hours. We haven't had one recently as the business has been busy and then George was away, but now he's back and apparently we're having these every week again. I really have not missed being rested like a goddamn maid.

Harry and Harper are here tonight, it makes things more tolerable as at least there are two people who don't totally resent me for just existing. Harry and I keep catching eyes though,and it's so difficult containing my smile or the urge to yell whenever George steps within a foot radius of me.

Yesterday, Harry stayed at the studio for lunch and just read a book whilst I painted. There wasn't much conversation, just us, sat there in each other's company while we worked away. It was actually kind of nice to not be alone all day. He left and kissed me on the cheek, it was like being a teenager all over again.

Grabbing a bottle of wine from the fridge, I took a deep breath and walked back through. My family and I aren't on the greatest of terms at the moment, but we never were to begin with so things could be a whole lot worse. At least my dad just isn't talking to me, it's more dreadful when he starts hurling insults at me.

Everyone at the table took a top up, George did so and made a stupid comment, calling me 'Maid Iris' as a joke which I had to fake a laugh at. I hated it though, it's horrifically sexist and if this was a dream of mine I'd have given him a slap. I looked at Harry after he said it who looked frustrated, he wasn't even looking, he couldn't

Sitting back down between my mother and Thomas, across from George, I felt absolutely trapped. George kept staring at me whilst I was trying to eat, despite the fact I had only been sitting down for thirty seconds.

"Oh, Iris, could you get some more napkins? I've spilled." My dad called, wiping the gravy off of his freshly washed shirt as if it was no bi deal, as if my mother won't be fighting to get the stain out of the white linen and then act like she's not furious about it.

With a sigh, and a plate full of untouched dinner because every time I go to make a start, I'm asked to do something. I just got up from the table and went through to the kitchen. Right now, that's so much easier than hearing whatever my dad has to say about me right now.

The ironic part is he'd probably call me lazy, despite being the one who won't get up off his arse and get his own napkins or wine.

I just grabbed the whole packet, there were about nine left so I placed them down next to my dad without receiving a thank you and sat down again. Of course, I don't know why I was expecting to be able to actually start my meal, because mid conversation my dad decided he actually wasn't satisfied with the amount of food and drink and napkins he has on the table.

"Iris, was there any of my fancy rum in the fridge?" He asked me.

I took a deep breath, really battling my own frustration, "I don't know, I didn't see."

"Course you didn't." He mumbled, looking at James who just chuckled, shaking their heads.

I looked at Harry who's eye contact spoke a million words, yet when I realised everyone else was staring, poking for my reaction, I just felt like a fool. It's all I really am to my family, a fool.

"Would you like me to get some Rum?" I itched, placing my knife and fork down for what feels like the hundredth time on my untouched plate.

"No, eat your dinner or you'll hold us all up." My dad shook his head, rolling his eyes and diving back into whatever discussion he was having about the economy and inflation.