Page 73 of House of Bass

“She tried. I understand that she did, but whatever sadness and despair that was eating away at her was stronger than her will to get better. To take care of me or herself, so I had to be the one to do it.” Even now she couldn't help but make excuses for, she was her mother after all and one parent was better than none.

“She was too flaky at her jobs, could never really hold one down. So when I was thirteen, I got a job at this small shop by our house. The pay wasn't great but it was good enough.”

There was some noise behind the door that had her looking back for a moment, likely students walking by. “You're probably wondering how and why anyone would hire me but our situation wasn't much of a secret where we lived. They probably figured this was the best way to help without getting social services involved. Our area was filled with people in varying situations similar to ours and weren't so quick to throw one of their own to the wolves.” Harley scoffed out a pitiful laugh, she paused for a moment and took a deep breath before continuing.

“I chose not to go to university because I knew if I took that step, I would never go back. And I loved my mum in spite of it all. So, for the last two years I worked full time as I continued to become this shell of a person who moved through each day like a machine. I’d given up.”

She pulled out the infamous letter from her bag, something she carried with her everywhere. She wasn't sure why, perhaps it was her craving affection that she had barely received and this was a token of it. “Until I got this,” Harley held up the letter to give to Scarlett, who hesitated for a second before breaking the distance to collect it. “It’s okay, you can read it.”

As she did, Harley carried on talking, “I almost didn’t make it out the door. I kept wondering if it was okay for me to be selfish, to want something for myself. The day I read the letter, Posy made me realise that my life was at a standstill and if I didn’t do something about it, I was never going to escape it. I didn’t know who I was, or if I’d ever been anything more than what she needed. I’d been living for her and only her. So, I cried for longer than I ever had in years. For myself, for her and for the life I never got the chance to have. I let the thought of ‘what if’ sneak through my brain. That maybe just this once, I get to live for myself. In that fleeting lapse of selfishness, I walked out the door and didn’t look back. And here I am. ” Harley had read the letter over and over again, she could recite its content without blinking. “Leaving her in that house, alone, when she's never had to look after herself without me…the guilt eats at me everyday.”

Nimble arms wrapped around her, the familiar warmth of her friend enveloped her and she never wanted to let go. Her face was stained with tears she hadn't even realised had fallen. As she rested her head on her shoulders, Scarlett mumbled out, “I hate her.” A choked laugh escaped Harley, not surprised that this was the comment her friend had in response to her sordid life. “And him.”

Scarlett pulled back, her face pained yet determined. “I’m serious. You were a child who should've never had to live that way. Every adult in your life failed you and you were dealt the worst cards,” then she used her thumbs to gently wipe the tears from Harley’s face. Her soft hands glided across and rested on her cheeks. “I’m happy you left. For you. But also because it means I got you in my life as a result and I’m pretty sure I wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.”

“Pretty sure?”

“Maybe for an ice cream cake.” They coughed out watery giggles, knowing it wasn't entirely far-fetched. Harley looked down at their linked hands, smiling. “Does that mean you don't hate me?” She asked head on, wanting to clear up any doubts that could fester. Scarlett shakes her head. “Never in a million lifetimes.”

27

ST. ANNABEL

I seem to be frozen in my chair, ears ringing either from the heavy round of applause or just the sheer presence of my father. Everything about him seems to set me off, I could barely listen during his speech. He more or less ordered me to be here and being the good daughter I was of course I listened. If that had been Harley she would've told him to “piss the fuck off” then called him “a fucking melt” as she gave him the middle finger for good measure, but considering the man in question hadn't even made the effort to speak to his other child, other than the piss poor excuse of a letter, we’d never know.

The crowd clears out one by one but my friends remain next to me, I can feel their presence clouding over me and the buzzing silence that comes with it. I know the only thing left to do is put on a smile and pretend everything is okay even though we all know it isn’t.

Devon’s soft voice rings out before I can say a word, “She’s not a matryshoka that can be broken, let her wallow in peace. I actually have other shit to do than to sit here in silence, my rehearsals can’t wait.” She gets up and packs her bags in one swift move. Her light footsteps still echoing in the silence of the hall. Before she closes the door a smirk lands on her face and she gives me a wink then leaves.

A small smile creeps up on me. Devon and I had our differences, and after our talk in Spain things were not automatically the same as before but still she knows what I need better than most. She is wrong about one thing though, I am definitely broken.

Afterwards, they all start getting up one by one; a kiss on the cheek from Dan and a hug from MJ. Though the latter staggers awaiting her boyfriend who is the last to stand.

“I’ll meet you in a second,” Arden says as he kisses MJ on the forehead without taking his eyes off me. She nods, her face the picture of confusion and there is nothing I can do to ease and clear things up. I mouth a talk to you later to which she responds with another nod.

Once she is gone, I speak.

“She’s going to catch on. She’s not stupid.” I say with a grumble and visceral tiredness that seeps from every part of my bones. We are the only two people left standing in this hall, it is quiet and I can hear the sound of my heartbeat in my ears.

“I never thought she was.” He steps closer to me, his familiar scent tugging at my nostrils like a warm hug. I want to close the distance but I am too far in my own head of self pity to even care enough to do so.

We have spent time together in the last few weeks whenever we could. No penetrative sex still, but trying to find our footing with one another, like before. I watch him play tennis, either alone or with Gaz, he watches me dance. We pick out a book to read together and argue about it until the sun goes down. He’s also taken me to his family’s equestrian centre to see his horse.

“What do you want, Arden?” I sigh, exasperated.

“You,” he says plainly. “To talk.”

“Talk about what? How my prick of a father has such a strong hold over me or how I let him ?” My voice raises as I speak. “How I’ve been avoiding him because it's easier to pretend I don't hate him when I do? I hate myself because of him.”

“The qualms of emotionally abusive fathers, I’m sure I couldn’t possibly know a thing or two about that.” he teases, an attempt at lightening the mood. Once he sees that my face is still brittling with sadness and anger, he puts his hand on my shoulders and leans down to look into my watery eyes.

“It’s okay to hate him. Realising the foundation of the world you built with someone you trusted and admired had always been fractured isn’t easy. However, it's also okay to still love him,” he counters, saying the words that I refuse to say. “He’s your father. The complexities in dealing with the fallout of that kind of relationship doesn't end in a day. You figure it out when you can, at your own pace.” He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in. “I’ll be there every step of the way, Saint. It’s you and me, remember?”

I don't respond but simply close the remaining distance between us, his arms wrap around me and chin rests on my head as I burrow into his neck. I feel safe even if it is just for a moment. As though everything in the world will be just alright, even when I know it can’t be farther from the truth.

After parting ways, my next destination is a conversation with my father. Posy cornered me before the seminar, telling me that he wants to speak to me and it is unavoidable.

My boots crunch on the wet and leafy ground, my fur coat keeps me warm but I regret not bringing my gloves.