Guarding

3- Chapter Three

“What I like about photographs is that they capture a moment that’s gone forever, impossible to reproduce.” 

~ Karl Lagerfeld

Chapter Three

"I'm back mum!" I leave my shoes in the hall and walk into the kitchen. A hunched figure stands by the back door. Mum.

I walk towards her and notice that her eyes are red and puffy. "Mum?" She wipes her face with the back of her hand.

"Hi love! How was your day?" she says, her voice light. As usual, she's hiding her feelings from me. Tucking them away safe. That's something my mum and I have in common - we keep our inner emotions unrevealed.

"What happened?" She looks away. "Mum?"

The silence is frightening me. "Mum! Talk!" She turns around and starts to say something, but falls into my arms instead. Quiet sobs escape her mouth and I feel her tears dripping onto my shoulder. My mum hardly cries. Whatever news she has to tell me, it's not going to be good. The last time I've seen my mum cry was at Angela's funeral - mainly because she does her crying alone.

I whisper into her ear, asking her to tell me why she's crying. Strange gulping sounds replace the sobs. Her head lifts slightly off my shoulder and she says, just loud enough for me to hear, "I've lost my job." Then her face goes back on my shoulder and tears start reappearing. 

How could she have lost her job? 

My mum worked hard to get where she was and now, she has nothing. No income. No job. And probably no hope. She's only had two weeks off out of the whole holiday, and the rest she has spent working like crazy to get a promotion at the end of summer. The company she works in is based a few miles from our house, and she travels an hour every morning to continue with her project plan to expand the business and get more customers. 

I shake my head. Everything's wrong. It always is. 

Mum's tears still fall helplessly onto my shoulder. I help her up the stairs and into her bed. She argues with me, telling me that she's fine. Any normal person can see that she's not. Maybe a few hours of rest will help. I tuck the duvet under her chin and go back downstairs to make myself a drink.

The phone rings and I answer it. "Hello?"

"Hi Jade! It's Mr Rodge. Can you pass the phone to your mum?" My grip on the phone tightens and I don't reply. Albert Rodge is my mum's boss. Was my mum's boss. I've only met him twice. He's a tall, skinny man with a moustache that he continuously scratches, and a really low voice that doesn't match his appearance. Or his personality. He seems a bit of a coward to me, even though he's portrayed to be really evil and controlling.

"Hello? Jade? Are you still there?"

I suck in a breath and plan out what I'm going to say. "Why did my mum lose her job?" 

Plain. Simple. Straight to the point.

"Sorry?"

"Why did my mum lose her job?" I ask louder. 

"Look, it's none of your business. Get your mum on the phone." His irritated tone marks his short temper. I think it's time to push him a little. And besides, my mum no longer works for him. So when he starts to speak again, I put the phone down on him. A smile forms on my lips and a rush of triumph passes through me.

The phone rings again. I answer, somehow knowing who it's going to be. "My mum doesn't work for you anymore. Leave us alone or I'll report you to the police for harassment." I nearly drop the phone when I realise what I've said.