Joining the Dots

Chapter 7

As soon as I wake up the next morning, I will myself to go back to sleep. The blind at my window is broken and so unfiltered light flows through and hits my face at that blinding angle which causes your eyes to squint and stream. I pull the duvet over my head and groan. Why am I awake?

After stumbling out of bed and eating my bowl of shreddies way too slowly, I decide I should stop putting off that phone call to my mum. I dial the number and listen as the phone rings once, twice, three times. In fact, it rings all the way to voice mail. It isn't unlike my mum to never answer. I fling the phone onto the other sofa and immediately regret it as my familiar ringtone starts sounding as soon as it hits the other chair. I tumble over to the opposite side of the room then tentatively put the phone to my ear.

"HI DARLING." My mother doesn't talk quiet. I turn the volume down.
"Hi mum."
"Sorry I missed you, super busy at work at the moment."
"When's it not?"
"Yeah," she pauses, sounding tired, "Well it's going to have to be a short call."
"That's okay," I never get a long conversation out of her anyway. "Gramps asked how you were."
"Tell him I've never been better. I love it here Al, my apartment is beautiful and there's a lot less rain then London."
"That's great mum. I can't wait for you to come back home though, for my graduation. We miss you."
"Listen, Darling." I hear her take a breath, "I don't think I'm going to make it, I'm sorry."

I shouldn't be upset. She always does this. She always lets me down. Yes, her life may be incredible over the other side of the frickin world but at the end of the day I'm still her daughter, and you would think she would put in at least a little effort to seem interested in my life.

"What happened mum?" She'd better have a good reason.
"Al, it's work. They predict a rush over that time, my work is important."
Typical.
"Unbelievable." I can't pretend any longer.
"Allie, you are an adult now. You must under.."
"No mum, you don't understand. You never have. You know this is important to me but you always put your work before me. It's not only this one time either, you have never got me, you never understood me and you never have put in any effort to try to. You're fucking unbelievable."
"Alison, you're being rude." She scolds.
"I, I can't." I put the phone down and let a sob escape from my chest.

I scream into a pillow, letting it muffle my frustration. I then proceeded to throw the pillow across the room. Right into Cam entering through the door.

"Oy!" He exclaims "you trying to kill me?"
"Yep, I can see it now, Cameron Walker - death by pillow."
He throws it back to me and I miss the catch.
"The cheek," he smiles at me but then sees the frustration my face holds, "What's up Al?"
"Mum drama."
"Well then I think tonight calls for sundaes and a film marathon."
"Just what I need."

We eat lunch together, both flicking though magazines and listening to my old Spice Girl albums. Then, begrudgingly, I head to my afternoon lecture.

I sit down and am there before the lecturer, as usual. My lecturer, Phil, always carries a flustered look about him and however much he tries, he can never get anywhere on time. Today he rushes in 15 minutes late, a cup of coffee sloshing from his hand as he precariously tries to balance his bags, files, laptop and briefcase between his hands.

"Sorry I'm late guys."
We all start pulling our notebooks and manuscript books from our bags. I like this lecturer, he is more down to earth than my other ones; I don't, however, like the topic he teaches. Post-Tonal Music Theory. I have no idea what I'm doing.

This week Phil pulls up some slides about a topic called Schenkerian Analysis. Don't ask me to pronounce that. And even more so, don't ask me to explain it. Before the lecture has even started, I'm confused. At one point I am asked what I don't understand but I don't even know what I don't understand - does "all of it" qualify as an answer? At the end of the hour, I leave the lecture even more confused then when I started.