Andante

CXLIV

Eddy couldn't remember the last time he'd peeled a carrot. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd cooked with his mum, full stop. There was something so comforting about picking up that carrot, running the peeler over it and putting it in the strainer, then picking up another carrot and repeating the process until all the carrots were clean and bright orange in the white enamel colander in the sink. His mum was quietly mixing spices in the big wok next to him, the hot oil spitting up at her. 
"That smells good, mum."
She smiled and brushed her hand over his shoulder. "Thank you, Eddy. The onion and leek are washed and ready over there."
He turned and picked up the vegetables, sliding them into the wok, which she started tossing straight away. His mum was a fantastic cook, and he suddenly thought that maybe one day he should make an effort to learn some of her recipes, if he didn't want to live on take out for all of his adult life. 
It's not like Brett was much better at cooking than he was, really. 
"How is it going with Brett?" his mum asked suddenly, as if she could read his effing mind, and just like that that little bit of budding relaxation that had bloomed in him evaporated into thin air. And she knew it, too, because she turned to him with question marks in her eyes.

He had been wondering about when to tell her about Brett and the con, but he had expected a little time to think about it! Was now, suddenly, the inevitable time, for real? After all the hassle he'd already been through, these last few days? He breathed in and steeled himself. 
"He's okay, mum. Doing well. He's going to audition for the conservatory in a few months."
There. That was relaxed and off-hand enough, right? He tried to breathe normally, so he wouldn't seem like he was bracing himself for her response. 
He was cutting the carrots, now, so they could join the vegetables in the wok. He swallowed as the sharp knife hit his nail.
Head in the game, mate. You don't need to cut your fingers off. Pretty fucking hard to play the violin with a digit missing, no?
"So... he's not going to study to be accountant?"
He didn't miss his mum's change of tone, he didn't miss the sharpness in it. He also didn't miss how she'd slipped into English, which was what she always did when she really wanted to get through to him. 
"Erm, no, I don't think so. Unless he doesn't get in, of course. But I'm pretty sure he'll get in."
He knew it would have been easier to keep it open, to say that maybe, just maybe he'd change his mind.... but his mum was sure to speak to Brett's parents at some point, and that wouldn't be at all helpful. 
His mum nodded thoughtfully. 
"Well. You make sure to keep studying well, so that you will have your chance to become doctor."
She didn't say the 'at least' between you and will, but she might as well have for how much her tone dripped with it. But he just nodded and pretended to not have noticed. 
"I will, mum, don't worry."

He helped her for a little while longer, but his heart wasn't in it any more. He just wanted to get to his room and get some more practise in. So he helped his mum serve the food, and he wolfed his down. Then he asked to be excused, saying he still had homework. 

His room seemed empty as he closed his door behind him, so very empty, with the stack of school books already beckoning him on his desk. He really would have preferred to play the Bruch again, but he'd said he was going to study, so he couldn't play, not yet. 
He sighed deeply as he made his way over to his desk. Then he sat down and opened his chemistry book.