Twenty Four

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"Good morning daddy." I walked in, stood behind Alex and squeezed his shoulders slightly. He reached up a hand and placed it on top of one of mine.

"Good morning Tina. how are you?" he inquired.

"I'm fine. Thank you."

"Your mother sent a letter. I found it at the office when I went in earlier and I think we should read it together."

I took a seat and Alex tore open the envelope. We read it:


Global Action Network,


Kennedy Drive,


California.


Hello everyone,


Congratulations to Tina and Alex for the excellent performance and Suzan for closing that case in the Anti-Corruption Court last week. I'm proud of you kids.


I'm having a lot of fun in the US and I've gained some weight as you can see in the photos. (Though I wish you were all here with me). The work we're doing this side is showing a lot of promise and improvement. That's the reason I wrote to you. I came to the US in May and my 8months end in December. It's December and I expected I would be leaving but I've been selected as part of the team that is advancing this project into UK and the middle East. I'm tied up in preparations and won't be home for Christmas. I'll be mailing presents and calling daily as much as I can.


Enclosed is a World Bank cheque of $50,000 and a stack of pictures.


Distance doesn't mean a thing. I love you even more than before. I'm petitioning higher authority to see if I can come home-once and for all.


Lots of love,


Mum.


Professor F. Bagaine


I looked up at my dad and Alex. "Mum won't be home."

"She's never coming back," Alex said.

Dad hugged us and got out the pictures. He began passing them around between us. In most of the pictures, mum was relaxed and smiling. There were winter photos when she was wrapped up in furs and surrounded by snow; summer photos where she was dressed fashionably light surrounded by sun and water; photos of her glass and brick house in the US, a few in her office at Global Action Network and the rest with friends and colleagues of all races.

Every photo had a label at the back explaining the place and people in it.

When the stack had thinned down to at least 5 photos, I saw dad's face tighten into a frown. He stiffened and turned over the photo to read the label. There wasn't one. He slapped the photo onto the table, face down. I had a chance to glimpse it before he put it away.

There was a man in the photo-tall, handsome and smiling. He was sitting, legs apart with a woman sitting in the space between his legs. Her head was on his shoulder and his arms were locked around her waist. They were both smiling-lost in a world of cozy intimacy. I squinted and saw the face of the woman. It was my mother. Dad spread the final four photos on the table and stood up.

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