It May Rain

Chapter Fifteen

LAST JULY

"Mum, guess what?" I shout as I run down the stairs and into the kitchen. "I got my exam results! I passed everything. I'm officially a graduate with a bachelors in English Literature."

"Congratulations, Mae," she says flatly. "Although I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I still don't see what use that's going to be unless you want to work in a library."

She flicks her cigarette end out of the open back door, barely taking a glance at me.

"Not necessarily," I argue. "The important thing is I've got a degree. A lot of places ask for a degree now before you even apply for a job."

"Me and your dad have gotten through life just fine without a degree. There's not many places around here that ask for a degree."

"Well, I've got one now, so I'll be prepared for a job whether they ask for a degree or not."

She gives me a careless shrug before turning back to stare out at the garden.

***

The front door opens and shuts, before I hear my dad's feet padding up the stairs. He'll have just come back from work at the car garage, and he'll probably smell of engine oil, but I've never minded that in the slightest. Over the years I've grown to love it because it reminds me of him.

I walk out of my bedroom and expect to see him on his way to the bathroom to take a shower, but instead I find him in my parent's bedroom. He's not wearing his overalls but instead a clean shirt and jeans, and he's rifling through a chest of drawers for something.

"Dad, I've got some good news. I passed my university exams and I've got a first in my degree," I bream.

"Well done, love! I'm so pleased for you." He ambles over and gives me a bear hug. "You're a smart one aren't you? I don't know where you get it from."

"Neither do I," I smile. "Did you go to work today? You're not wearing your overalls."

"No, not today, love. I had some other things to take care of."

"Like what?"

He looks over to the doorway and catches sight of my mum standing there.

"Where have you been all day? I've been calling and calling you. We need some more potatoes for tonight's tea, and we're running low on drain cleaner for the bathroom sink."

My dad gulps, gives me a gentle look and turns to face my mum.

"Lisa, I've been doing a lot of thinking recently, and today I came to a decision."

"Oh yeah, and what's that?" she replies dryly.

There's a pause before my dad replies in a brittle voice. "I'm leaving you."

"You're what?" she cackles. "You wouldn't leave me. Where would you go?"

"I don't know yet...I'll go stay in a hotel for now, and I'll figure something more permanent out later on. But we can't carry on here, the way we are. I know we've tried our best for the kids' sake, but they're all grown up now. We barely speak to each other these days, and when we do we just argue."

My mum lurches over to him with an accusatory finger jabbed out.

"And whose fault is that! You and your gambling is the root of all of our problems. Your sickening addiction has been a cancer to our relationship. I'd have had a happier life if I'd never married you," she spits.

"Well, I'm giving you the chance to experience that now. I want a divorce."

"And how are you going to afford a divorce? Lawyers and divorces cost money, you know? And so do hotels. How are you going to pay for your hotel stay once you walk out of here? With pixie dust? Because mark my words, if you walk out of this house, you'll not be getting a penny off me."

I wonder that too, since my mum has always been the breadwinner, even though she has a modest teaching job at the nearby community college.

"I'll figure out a way."

"Oh, will you now? Just like how you said you'd pay the rest of the mortgage off on this house, and how you said you'd get us a better car one day, but we're still stuck with that rust bucket, how you'd take the kids to Disneyland one day but you never did because you spent our savings playing online roulette, how you said-"

"Alright! Enough! You're going to find out eventually, so I might as well tell you now. The other day, I won big on the horses. Six figures."

My neck snaps to face him. "Have you really won, dad?"

"Yes, I really have," he beams. "And I'll make sure she doesn't get any of it," he adds, gesturing to my mum.

"You're lying! You can't have," she scoffs. "I keep a very close eye on our bank account to make sure you've not slipped into your old ways of hiding your spending, and there's been no payments to betting websites. And Noel from the shop would tell me if you'd been in and made a bet in person. There's no way you could have won something."

My dad wrinkles his nose. "Mae's been letting me take a tenner out of her account every week so I can have a flutter. Just for a bit of fun. And it just so happens, one of those flutters has turned into a serious bit of money. "

I stare hard at the floor, wishing it would swallow me up. I've been accidentally dragged into the middle of my parents' arguments many times before, but never for something as serious as this.

"You?!" she screeches at me. "You've been going behind my back with him this whole time?"

"Mum, it wasn't like that. Dad just wanted to place a few small bets every so often. That's all it was. I was in control of it. I only gave him a tenner a week and I made sure he wasn't slipping into bad habits."

"If that's 'all it was', then why didn't either of you tell me about this? Eh? Undoing all my hard work to get your dad on the straight and narrow, and to stop this family from going destitute! Scrimping and saving, budgeting every week, and for what? An ungrateful daughter who couldn't care less about lying to my face, and an ungrateful husband who wouldn't know how to manage money if his life depended on it."

"Don't bring Mae into this, Lisa. She's got nothing to do with it. It's me you're angry at."

"She's got everything to do with it! It's her fault all this happened. She knows what you're like with gambling, and she should never have let you place a single bet. She's obviously as useless as her father with her money," she bellows with fierce eyes. "I want you both gone and out of my house."

"You can't kick your own daughter out! And it's our house, not your house. We both contribute to the mortgage," my dad fires back.

"Oh, I think you're forgetting that it's my house, Martin. Ever since the last time you blew all of our cash and got declared bankrupt, this house has been in my name."

"Mum, please," I beg as I step towards her. "You're overreacting."

She's shaking with rage so I go for a hug to console her, but she forcefully pushes me away.

"Get. Out! I never want to see either of you again."