'Little bold one'

My mother

With glossy, chestnut hair, my mother was something out of a vintage Vogue. She had all of the Italian boys running after her when she was my age. Since my father left, when I was just a little baby, my mother stood strong and independent; I was the most important person in her life and she sure meant it. It was something to do with my mother only being 19 when she had me and my father wasn't ready to start a 'proper' life and family.
Some may say it's a little odd to have a mother as a best friend. Others may say it's the cutest, most supportive thing to have and I agree. We looked more like sisters. Both with shimmering hair, umber - coloured eyes that twinkled in the comforting, Italian sun and a soft, olive skin complexion.
Up until I was 12, my mother and I got on so well. Every Sunday morning we would dress early and skip down to the market, snatching all of the fresh cheeses, breads and lemonade and indulging on them later that relaxing afternoon (just to make sure nobody got our favourites)! I could talk to her about anything. Whether it was my melodramatic friendship problems in Primary school or it extended to 'girly issues', she was always there.
After that, I moved into the local secondary school. I was top of my class. Reciting every verb, adverb, adjective and pronoun in the Italian dictionary.
I had a few friends but I wasn't so hung up on how many friends I had, it was more my education and my grades. Apparently I got that from my fathers determination, always striving for the best. He could be anywhere. He could be one the of men smoking outside the Bacio Divini most evenings or one of the bakers in Il Panificio Duchessa who make little bread teddy bears for the children that come in.
My connection with my mother had worn away slightly. I think she thought because I was 14, I was old enough for to be more independent so that she could study more for her degree (even though her course had ended a while before that). Secretly, it was because she met Derek at the University and they grew very close. More than close. It was serious. Although I never realised that until we were flying over to England.