Navigating Life, Called Claude

Chapter 4:

As I lay on the couch my feet tracing patterns in the air, my mum is frantically rushing about around me.

“Remind me again what you are doing mum.”

I watch as my mother applies another coat of lipstick and fusses with her hair in the mirror. I gag at her skin tight, hot pink dress shimming well above her knees. Her heels must be the size of my arm.

“I’m going on a date.”

“And how old is this man?” I ask tightly.

“Thirty-seven.” She replies sheepishly.

“Ugh!” I groan at my forty-five year old mother. “That’s eight years difference.”

“I can do math Claude.” My mum states dryly.

“You look like a tart.” I say without sympathy.

“Thanks Claude. You know I like to look like I’m in my early thirties.”

“More like early twenties.” I mumble to myself.

“What’s that?” She questions fixing me with a sharp gaze.

“Nothing.” I reply batting my eyes.

“That’s what I thought. Well I’m off. Dinner’s in the fridge.”

In a couple of seconds she is gone. I am alone in the house and wondering what to do with myself at seven O’clock in the afternoon on a Saturday night. I turn on the T.V and flick through the channels. After a couple of moments I hear a tap at the door and I get up to answer it. Jason smiles back at me lazily.

“I thought you might need some cheering up what with your arm and all and also, I guess I should probably apologise. I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to knock you out with the cricket ball.”

I smile back at him genuinely touched. “I’m just happy you were playing cricket and not golf.”

“What happened to your head?” Jason asks pointing a finger to the collection of purple on my head.

The mood is instantly killed.

 “It’s none of your business.”

“Having trouble adjusting to your new cast?” Jason guesses.

My eye brows kick up in surprise. “How did you know?”

Jason holds out his lightly tanned arm, tracing a circle around a shiny pink scar.

“I didn’t listen to the do not run sign at the pool.”

“Wow, I might have just found someone who is just as stupid as I am.”

Jason snorts, “You wish, anyway just follow me.” He gestures outside and I shut the door lightly, slipping my keys into the pocket of my jeans. 

 “Where are we going?” I ask keeping pace with him.

 “Back to my place.” Jason replies.

“Aren’t your parents home?”

 “Nope. My dad is out and my mum… Well my mum died seven years ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” I reply honestly.

 “Well don’t worry. I don’t want to dampen the mood.” Jason says lightly his eyes crinkling.

We arrive at Jason’s house and he opens the door for me to step inside. There a two stories and I know this because apart from the obvious look outside his house, there is a huge spiralling staircase dominating the centre of the room. Everything screams expensive and I immediately scramble to take off my shoes to prevent them from damaging the floor.