A carnival, with a float from preschool – the toddler grandson, with his mummy, was to be in a parade.
Bella would come with me, to walk along the float, to take pictures, to enjoy.
Bella was two weeks out of rehab. Had enjoyed our family times.
Early that carnival morning she telephoned. ‘I don’t feel well, I’m not coming with you.’
‘Why, what’s wrong with you?’
‘Tired, that’s all, for God’s sake, what is this?’
And there we have it, that boulder in my stomach – the silence between us. I expressed my concern, ‘I’ve got an uneasy feeling that you’ve been drinking.’
‘Am I always going to get this, when I don’t feel well? Call round and see for yourself,’ Bella said.
She ended the call. I had a couple of errands to run in town. My mobile phone rang, ”thought you were calling to see me?’ she said.
‘I am, I’ll be there in ten minutes.’
She ended the call, again.
I pulled my car to a stop outside her house, she was at the window, watching for me to arrive.
I entered her living room, washed bedding hung over the door. ‘You don’t look well,’ I said.
‘I haven’t been drinking, I swear.’
‘Get ready, come with me, fresh air will do you good, and you were so looking forward to it.’
‘No, I’m just going to chill, here.’
I stared at her blue-blue eyes, jet black with lies.
‘I’m allowed to relax.’ she said.
We left it at that.