After school I met Caroline and as she had borrowed some records of mine decided to go round to her house and collect them. I didn't really know her all that well but she was very easy to get on with. She didn't go to the same places as I did but occasionally invited me to her house and things like that. I didn't usually go, simply because couldn't be bothered. I hardly even saw her because we were at different schools but when we met we had a good long chat and told each other all our news.
I didn't feel like going home anyway-perhaps it was because I was getting annoyed with my mother-well, not annoyed but it had become too tense being with her. We couldn't have a conversation without it becoming a row. I think she resented me a bit. I don't know why. It made things easier when I went out: I didn't have to face up to her. She really annoyed me sometimes because any row was forgotten too quickly, as though it was a routine, as though she wasn't bothered. Any arguments were never about anything important but she made them seem trivial immediately afterwards. She made me feel foolish and small. It was horrible. I hated it happening. I had begun to keep out of her way as much as possible.
Caroline and I had a good long talk about school and other things that worried us, we listened to records for ages in complete silence, not saying a word. I suddenly realized I had missed both buses and would have to try and get the eight o'clock one.
Caroline decided we should go to the loch until it was time for my bus. By the time we had walked across the causeway and back I had missed it.
Mum ll go daft," I said suddenly, beginning to worry.
"Look, she's going to be anyway so it doesn't matter how late you are."
That was fair reasoning but I was hungry and cold and I thought I'd like to get home.
"No I'd better go now," I said. I left and started walking through town. I was passing Elaine's house so I went in to see her.
"Your mother's going daft, she's been phoning everyone. She was here, she was in town twice. she's even been to the police station." Elaine stopped and took my arm.
"Oh God," I said, "Oh no, you're joking!"
"Come in."
I sat down and buried my face in my hand. She would be furious. What was I going to say to her? This meant another row.
"Elaine, I don't want to go home. Can't I stay here?
"You'll have to face up to her as soon as possible. That's typical of you Cathie, you run away from everything. You'll have to face up to it."
Mrs. Wilson came in. I was scared she would be angry too.
"Cathie I'm going to the phone box to phone your mother now."
My mother knocked on the door and Elaine answered. She stood quietly at the living room door.
I was angry. There had been so much fuss and now she was acting as if nothing had happened. I thanked Elaine and got into the car. I didn't see any point in talking about it so I kept very quiet and pretended wasn't bothered. She didn't even ask where I'd been until we were halfway home.
There was no way I could show her how hurt I really was. She simply didn't care about me and I couldn't let her see how much that hurts. It was no good: she had already forgotten it-just like everything else.
After school I met Caroline and as she had borrowed some records of mine decided to go round to her house and collect them. I didn't really know her all that well but she was very easy to get on with. She didn't go to the same places as I did but occasionally invited me to her house and things like that. I didn't usually go, simply because couldn't be bothered. I hardly even saw her because we were at different schools but when we met we had a good long chat and told each other all our news.I didn't feel like going home anyway-perhaps it was because I was getting annoyed with my mother-well, not annoyed but it had become too tense being with her. We couldn't have a conversation without it becoming a row. I think she resented me a bit. I don't know why. It made things easier when I went out: I didn't have to face up to her. She really annoyed me sometimes because any row was forgotten too quickly, as though it was a routine, as though she wasn't bothered. Any arguments were never about anything important but she made them seem trivial immediately afterwards. She made me feel foolish and small. It was horrible. I hated it happening. I had begun to keep out of her way as much as possible. Caroline and I had a good long talk about school and other things that worried us, we listened to records for ages in complete silence, not saying a word. I suddenly realized I had missed both buses and would have to try and get the eight o'clock one. Caroline decided we should go to the loch until it was time for my bus. By the time we had walked across the causeway and back I had missed it. Mum ll go daft," I said suddenly, beginning to worry. "Look, she's going to be anyway so it doesn't matter how late you are." That was fair reasoning but I was hungry and cold and I thought I'd like to get home."No I'd better go now," I said. I left and started walking through town. I was passing Elaine's house so I went in to see her. "Your mother's going daft, she's been phoning everyone. She was here, she was in town twice. she's even been to the police station." Elaine stopped and took my arm. "Oh God," I said, "Oh no, you're joking!" "Come in."I sat down and buried my face in my hand. She would be furious. What was I going to say to her? This meant another row. "Elaine, I don't want to go home. Can't I stay here? "You'll have to face up to her as soon as possible. That's typical of you Cathie, you run away from everything. You'll have to face up to it." Mrs. Wilson came in. I was scared she would be angry too. "Cathie I'm going to the phone box to phone your mother now." My mother knocked on the door and Elaine answered. She stood quietly at the living room door. I was angry. There had been so much fuss and now she was acting as if nothing had happened. I thanked Elaine and got into the car. I didn't see any point in talking about it so I kept very quiet and pretended wasn't bothered. She didn't even ask where I'd been until we were halfway home. There was no way I could show her how hurt I really was. She simply didn't care about me and I couldn't let her see how much that hurts. It was no good: she had already forgotten it-just like everything else.
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