His lies

Untitled Part 1

I'd seen her here many times she comes in with a group of women all in maid uniforms, 7pm just off their shift from the snobbish hotel up the street exhausted from the day, coming in for a drink or two before one by one they would each leave until only she remained alone in a darkened booth, before realising the time reaching for her glass and draining the last drop and stumbling out, her feet heavy on the floor, the heeled shoes she wears hitting the wooden floor with an uneven clumsiness each night as she had just a little too much to drink. However, this time was different she sat waiting barely touching the drink I'd brought her it had to have been at least 30 minutes now and she remained. She began to examine the watch her dad had bought for her 40th birthday; it was an expensive one that she had hardly ever worn accept for special occasions admitting she only put it on to try and impress the man she was waiting for, checking the time 4.25pm he should have been here at 4pm, she took a deep breath before pulling out her handbag and reaching for the mirror and stubby red lipstick inside, applying it delicately and lingering just a second too long in the mirror as she watched the reflection of the door hoping for him to walk in. "Another ten minutes and then I'll leave" she told herself, staring down at the gin and tonic she'd allowed herself to buy for some Dutch courage watching as the bubbles rise and fell as she stirred the ice cubes around with a little black cocktail straw.
She became paranoid that maybe a pub wasn't the best place to choose he was a businessman now she expected he was used to much nicer places than this, fancy cocktail bars in the heart of the city paying £9 for a G&T. Yet she chose a rundown pub in Camden with a sticky bar that felt like it hadn't had a good scrub for many years and most of the chairs needed reupholstering, the carpets had worn patches and questionable stains, the toilets stank like piss and that was only the women's she didn't want to imagine the men's. Despite this she loved coming here and naively wanted to show off to her friends when her son would finally forgive her and come home. She told me of the father and I saw the distrust he had rooted in her, she'd been with him when she was just eighteen years old he was the man she believed she would spend her life with. He was a few years older, with a job and his own flat he treated her like a woman where everyone else treated her like a little girl who had just lost her mother. She became dependent on him because of this, wanting to be around him as much as possible loving how she felt around him however, this all changed when she fell pregnant and had to tell him, he didn't say anything when she first told him, avoiding her for days leaving her desperate and alone not knowing what to do her friends and family did not approve of him so she feared telling them. She told me how she went to his flat needing him to tell her what to do and she left with bruises around her neck and a bust lip she had her answer. But that wasn't god's plan she was too far along and could not get rid of the baby, so she went on to have the baby and her family and friends were supportive of her. She named her son Samuel after her mother Samantha and the first fifteen years of his life were perfectly normal, they were never bothered by his father not until his 16th birthday and he was sent a card from his dad who wanted to know his son before he died, regretting turning his back on his blood. Although Sam felt bad about it he chose not to see him because he did not want to meet his dad only to have to lose him, as she told me this it was the first time

she began to feel ashamed because she has felt relief that her son had chosen not to meet his father. Two years following her life took a drastic turn as her dad suddenly fell ill being told by doctors he had only three weeks to live, this hit her hard and she behaved unexpectedly. Mostly towards her son who she alienated by having sex with one of his friends when they were 20 years old something which he has never been able to forgive her for. She pauses in her story here gulps down her g&t it is obvious the remorse she feels for her actions she lost two of the most important men in her life at the same time, it has took her 12 years from the estrangement of her son to be able to talk about the past and now it is pouring from her need to reconcile with her son imminent yet as she tells me her story she begins to realise the time passing by reaching 7:30pm and still her son hasn't come. She had so badly wanted to make things right with him, she needed him much more than he could ever need her. She breaks down in floods of tears it is now 10pm and I'm sat at the bar with her she has waited all evening and still he hasn't come, she sobs into my shoulder blaming herself I take the glass from her tilted hand and embrace her in a hug I realise there is nothing I could say. We sit there like this for a moment before she stands looks me in the eyes, smiles and walks out without another word.