Every Now and Then I Have Another Child by Diane Brown

Author:Diane Brown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Otago University Press
Published: 2021-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Selected Fragments

Police tape blocks the gate of the house across the valley.

My dog growls deeply. I remember Lesley talking of a cat.

I’ve never been inside. My DNA can’t be lurking on teacups.

But what about my doppelgänger’s? Is it possible she’s related?

My sister handed over at birth?

Or perhaps we are twins, both of us given away. At the film

festival, Three Identical Strangers, all adopted, discover and fall

in love with each other at nineteen. ‘Like puppies, rolling around

on the floor,’ an aunt of one of them says. As babies in cots,

they all headbanged

but their similarities don’t extend beyond the physical. Life

darkens as they grow older. Personalities diverge further

with fatherhood. Separated at six months, none claims they always

felt the absence of another. I wanted a sister, but my mother said

I was her lovely only.

Was she lying? The reason she could leave after putting on

the roast? Dad was at the rugby. ‘He’d better not be getting drunk

again,’ my mother said. Someone rang. She whispered something.

I was watching our new television. ‘That’s it. I’m off,’ she said.

‘Keep an eye on the chicken.’

I didn’t look up, say I was only ten, wasn’t old enough to open

the oven or be left alone. By the time Dad arrived home, drunk

indeed, the chicken was burnt. Dad threw it out the door.

‘Where’s your fucking mother?’ He biffed her note on the fire.

I watched her words disappear.

My mother’s friend, Gail, arrived with pies and beer. I burnt the roof

of my mouth on a mince and cheese. ‘She’ll crawl back,’ Gail said.

‘Won’t have her,’ Dad said. ‘Not even on bended knees.’ Gail moved

in, erased all traces of my mother from walls and wardrobes.

My mouth blistered badly.

Mum’s name, Sally, became forbidden. It wasn’t as bad as Cinderella.

No ugly stepsisters, just a substitute mean mother and drunken fights.

Quiet enough for the neighbours to mind their own business,

for me to hide under a torch-lit blanket, with books and diary

carpeting loneliness.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.