Deerleap by Sarah Walsh

Author:Sarah Walsh
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Sarah Walsh
Published: 2014-11-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

The following year had started so well. I’d entered one of my paintings in the BP National Portrait Exhibition and was amazed when a few months later I received a letter telling me that my portrait had been selected as one of only fifty-five, to be showcased at the exhibition. The letter referred to my work as outstanding and innovative, and when I finished reading it, I cried with joy. The feeling of achievement was almost overwhelming, nothing like this had ever happened to me before and for the first time, I could see a future in which I might earn a living as an artist. Alex told me how wonderful I was and how proud he was of me and how much he loved me. My father whooped for joy and Polly took the phone from him and congratulated me and told me I was very talented. But it was my mother’s praise which meant the most, for she was the one who’d encouraged me to believe in my ability. She photocopied the letter and framed it, and she wrote the dates of the exhibition on the calendar and asked if we could go together and I said yes, even though it meant that Alex, my father and Polly could not be there. Everyone was happy for me, everyone except Rita, who didn’t bother to reply to the text I sent her telling her the news.

And then came the darkness. The start was the ‘decree absolute’, the official end to my parent’s marriage. Due to my father’s prevarication and his concerns over my mother’s mental health, it had taken longer than necessary to come about; but finally, four years after they separated, he got his copy through the post. He suggested I check on my mother to see how she was coping and I did. Sitting chatting at the kitchen table whilst we waited for a chicken casserole to cook, I monitored her. She was smoking a lot, the ashtray was full of cigarette butts, and the kitchen was messier than usual, the jam, butter and plate she’d used at breakfast were still sitting next to the sink, on the table were old newspapers jumbled up with circulars and official looking letters and an empty crisp packet was lying next to a blue diary and a book about domestic violence. But in herself she appeared calm. All evening I waited for her to mention the ‘decree absolute’, but she didn’t and I hoped it was a sign of her acceptance. On leaving her, I felt vaguely uneasy, but the next time we met I was reassured; she’d tidied up and she smiled more.

The second blow fell in early March when my father and Polly announced they were getting married. I should have seen it coming, they were so happy, but I hadn’t and it was a terrible shock. They told Alex and I over Sunday lunch at Deerleap and neither of us reacted well.

“When’s it going to happen?” Alex asked grimly.

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