When Worlds Collide - A Zayn Malik Fanfic

28; Phone calls, news, and dynamite

The last week of school before holidays. Everyone else is so excited; they get to go home. And that's the biggest desire they have. But for me? I can't go home. I simply don't want to. And it's kind of strange, because I would rather stay at school, basically alone, than go home. But either way I'm still alone.

I still haven't told my parents yet that I'm staying back for the holidays. I can't even think of how they'll react. I do feel a little bad, I admit, for my mum. She could really use the help of me around and she just lights up when I'm there. She's always calling to say she misses me. And sometimes I miss her too. It's hard living in such a big house with no one around. I grew up with butlers and maids and chefs and doormen and poolkeepers, but never a father. Not really.

I tap my fingers on the counter, trying to delay this phone call as much as possible. Eventually, I know it's no good and that I need to do it. Punching in my home number on the phone in the floor kitchen, I lean back against the wall waiting for someone to pick up. About six or so rings, the lady at the front office does.

"Hello, you have reached Smith Country Club. You're speaking to Anne. How may I help you?"

I sigh. It's ridiculous that every time I want to call my own mother, I need to get through several people first and probably book an appointment. "Er, hi. It's Violet."

"Violet?"

"Smith. Isabelle and Derek's daughter? The owners of this place?"

"Oh, Violet! How are you, dear? How's Westlake?"

I try and rack my brain for any remembrance of Anne, but nothing comes. "Um, fine. Look, can I just talk to mum?"

"Of course, sweetie. I'll put you through to her right away. Lovely to hear your voice, angel. Bye now!" The line cuts and there's a loud beep before the phone starts ringing again.

Two rings later, mum picks up.

"Violet!" She cries directly into my ear. "Oh, darling. How are you? Why, I was just thinking about you! I miss you so much. Everything okay?"

I can just picture her sitting in her room in her black shift dress, the giant pearls around her neck, her hair up neatly in a bun. She's always looked the same, so elegant and fresh. Unlike my dad. It's a wonder how she stays so held together.

"Hi, mum." I let out a breath I only just realise I'd been holding in. "I miss you, too. Everything's fine. I just wanted to talk to you."

"Oh, honey. I'm all yours. Everybody else can wait."

I smile. "How's business?"

"It's going great! It's always busy around this time of the year; I think it's the weather. We've had quite a few new recruits and things are just going grand. But enough about me and my boring old life, tell me about you, sweetheart."

"There's not much to tell," I tell her honestly.