Songbird

Where the heart is

Sunday 1st December

"You will definitely be coming back?" Kyrah asked for about the one-hundreth time today as she handed me my bright fluoro duffel bag.

"Yes, Kyrah." I replied with a weary sigh. "Look," I said, pulling a printed piece of paper out of my pocket and waving it in front of her face, "I've even got my return tickets! I'm just going home for a few days to tell my family I'm going and sort things out with my Mum. I should be back by Wednesday." A smudge of confusion crinkled on Kyrah's forehead.

"I thought things were all right at the moment between you and your Mum?" Kyrah knew all about my Mum's 'reluctance' to encourage my songwriting passion and the fights it caused between us.

"Things are all right now, but I know for sure they won't be after I tell her I'm giving up Uni to go to England for my songwriting!" She nodded and gave me a sympathetic look.

"I'm sure you'll be able to talk her around." Kyrah told me.

"That's just it," I said, "She'll be trying to talk me around!" I chucked my duffel bag in the back of Jeremy's car before turning back to Kyrah with a look of renewed resolution on my face. "I know she's gonna try and make me change my mind, but I won't let her, not this time. I'm going to London whether she likes it or not. This is what I want to do." Kyrah beamed a smile at me and pulled me into a hug.

"Good for you!" She said. Kyrah had always been encouraging me to stand up to my mum and not let her push me around. You're 19! She'd say, Don't let your mum rule your life.

As I slowly extracted myself from Kyrah's robust, asphyxiating hug I saw the time on her watch.

"Oh, gosh! Come on, Jeremy, we better go." I slammed the boot down, gave Kyrah one last, quick hug and slid into the passenger seat of Jeremy's car.

Jeremy had kindly offered to drive me to the bus stop and we really needed to get a move on, or else I would miss my bus.

By some stroke of luck, the traffic wasn't too bad in the city centre and I made it to the bus stop in time. After saying good-bye to Jeremy, and thanking him a hundred times over for dropping me off, I got on the bus and managed to find an empty pair of seats to claim as my own.

I'd travelled the five hour plus bus route between Uni and home many times before, but never on such short notice. I had rang home the night before to tell my family what time I'd be arriving, but when the bus pulled in to the Hastings bus stop there was no one there to pick me up.

Carrying my fluoro duffel bag I started to trudge down the street. It was about a 15 minute walk from the centre of town to my house, and, looking up at the ominously dark clouds flooding the sky, I judged that I'd have roughly that long before the rain started to fall. Where was summer???

I was almost halfway home and my arm was really starting to ache from carrying my bag when a grey, seedy-looking car slowed down to a walking pace before pulling up alongside me. Heart rate rising, lungs pumping like angry bellows, I readjusted my grip on my duffel bag and took a few steps closer to the house behind me, just in case. Slowly, the car window on the passenger side wound down.

"Rachel!" I screeched and rushed over to the car, "You just about gave me a heart attack!" My little sister laughed and leaned over to unlock the passenger seat door.

"Sorry," Rachel said, "I was going to pick you up, but then I had to drop Joel off at his house, and then when I got to the bus stop you had already left."

"Who's Joel?" I asked, "And since when do you have your licence?" Fiddling with the peeling fake leather on the steering wheel, she broke eye contact and looked away.