Before We Say Goodbye

Chapter Nineteen: I Kind of Lied to You...

Chapter Nineteen - Sophie

I pick up the phone with trembling hands.

“Just call her,” I tell myself sternly.

I ignore the pounding in my head, telling myself that I can have my medication after I’ve called her.

That seems a fair deal.

I punch in the numbers, and listen as the phone rings.

“Hello?” a distant, tinny voice asks from the other end.

My heart speeds up, just about recognising the voice. My mam’s voice.

“Mammy?” I whisper.

“Sophie?” she replies, sounding…annoyed?

No way.

“Mam!”

She draws in a breath sharply. “Why are you calling me?”

“Because – ”

“Didn’t your father tell you? I don’t want to see you.”

I don’t think I can remember how to breathe.

Wait.

How does it go again?

In, out?

Right?

In, out.

“Wh-what?” I mumble, still focusing on how to breathe.

“I don’t want to see you, Sophie. How much clearer can I make it?”

I feel my eyes tear up at the corners, and my throat starts to sting. “But…why?”

“Because I have a new family, Sophie, and I just want to forget the past. Being with your father, and everything that happened in that time, was a huge mistake. I’ve gotten over it, and so should you.”

“Mam, how can I get over it? You. Are. My. Mother. And right now, you’re being a bitch.”

Mam gasps. “How dare you call me that! I’m your mother!”

“You just said you were over me,” I snap. “So I can call you whatever the hell I want! Funny, isn’t it? The truth kinda hurts, eh?”

I can only imagine the look of fury that has surely settled on Mam’s face, but I’m hurting too right now. My face is set in a firm scowl, and I’m gripping the phone so tightly my knuckles are turning white.

“Sophie, enough. You’re behaving like a spoilt child.”

I laugh mirthlessly. “I’m behaving like a spoilt child, am I? Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot. Wanting to see my mam after so long is too much to ask, right? It’s not allowed, is it? Does it cost too much?”

Mam growls. “Shut up, Sophie. Grow some balls. You’ve probably already replaced me with that skank your father hooked up with – ”

“Don’t call Trish a skank!” I scream. “She’s been here for me the past nine years, which is more than I can say for you! You were supposed to hold my hand when they said I had cancer, not Trish! But Trish did it instead! Because you weren’t there! You know what else she did? She looked after me. She went to my parent meetings. She took me to the cinema. She made me hot chocolate. She got me birthday and Christmas presents. She hugged me. She asked what was wrong when I looked sad. You haven’t done that once in nine years, so can you blame me if I replaced you with her? No!”

There is a strained silence on the other end of the line. I’m just about to slam the phone down when Mam says something.

“What did you say?”