Laura had left the family home.
Husband and I were bereft, she had manipulated a reason to be asked to leave. Through arguing with her, we felt that we had let her down.
I could be over bearing; I could be in her face. I thought I could help her, wanting only the best for her. I wished her happiness. I saw pitfalls and tried to stop her caving in.
Choices she made, I balanced against, sheer bad luck and became angry with her. Now she had gone? I felt bad. I felt sad.
The birds chirped their morning song.
From the kitchen window I watched the flash car back up the drive. Mr Big I Am in the driving seat.
Laura appeared in the hall, had used her key to enter my home.
‘Any bin bags?’ she asked. These would be her suitcase of necessity many times over.
Upstairs Laura rammed her stuff into huge black bags. I took a bottle of champagne from the fridge.
Bulging black bags were shoved into the flash car’s boot. She came to the kitchen. She came to say goodbye.
I held out the unopened champagne. I held back my tears.
Shacking up with Mr Big I Am was what she wanted. I wished her luck.
I watched her bounce into the passenger seat of the flash car, with an emptiness in my heart.
Already, I missed her.
