Some people never change. You would think if your so called 'mum' packed you off to happy, clappy leprechaun land and then came back crying to you a few months later, that she would learn not to do it again. Well I certainly thought so! But I guess I was proved wrong. Yet again.
My mum always thinks of fantastic ways to break the news; she buys me my favourite magazine or a new leather coat or cooks me my favourite meal. I've grown wise to her bribes now. I could tell something was up! "Mum?" I said, chomping through my spaghetti bolognaise.
"What is it darling?" She asked with a false, sickly sweet smile.
"Well I appreciate all you have been doing for me but… Is there something wrong?" I questioned.
"What, just because I am treating my daughter, there has to be something the matter? Honestly Scarlett you are so ungrateful! Any normal child would be thrilled with all the things I have done for you!" She defends. I could tell this was going to turn into an ugly argument. I should walk away but I couldn't. "Don't make out that you care! I know you all to well! Ever since I came back I have just been a great big trouble to you haven't I? With your precious work and lah di dah, fancy friends!"
"Actually if I am honest, yes. Do you know what, Scarlett? Please yourself." She retaliates.
"What?" I stammer, confused.
"If you want to know the truth, I want you to go back with your father." My heart races, I remember Kian, Holly and her cute freckles, the Morris traveller and Claire's home made soap and lemonade. And then I remember the thunder storm, Holly and the lip piercing, the disappointed look on Claire and Dad's faces when I screwed up yet again at school. I couldn't go back. Not now. Not ever. Even a year after it all happened…