Loneliness
End of January.
And it’s been so long, that I can’t explain
And it’s been so wrong….
She was not giving up. She was not going to be defeated….
As she thought so she climbed the stairs and stopped by the door, searching her bag for the key. She opened the door. It was strangely quiet inside.
-Ivan?
As her son didn’t answer, she threw the bag on the floor and ran into the bedroom, only to find it empty. In a second she was in the kitchen, having swung open the bathroom door by the way.
- Ivan!
A note was lying on the table. She grabbed it, ran through and sank down on the chair with a sight of relief. Will she ever be normal again? Will she ever stop worrying each time when there’s no point doing so? When he just goes out to buy milk? She stood up, took off her coat and went back to the hall to put it in the closet.
She had a late shift tonight but there were about thirty minutes to spare and she kicked off her shoes, went into her bedroom and fell on the bed. She reached for the alarm clock and set it to go off at half past eight.
It seemed to her that she hardly had closed her eyes when he heard her son’s voice:
- Mum, get up, mum. Your alarm went off.
Not opening her eyes, she pushed her legs, which felt as if made of lead, from the bed, and then sat up.
- Will you make me cup of tea, dear.
- I’ve made, mum.
And here he was indeed, with a cup of tea in his hands. She forced her eyes to open while she drank it, with sugar and lemon – just the way she liked it.
She came to the kitchen to put the empty cup in the sink for him to wash up. She couldn’t remember when was the last time she did the dishes at home.
- Thank you, son.
- It’s ok.
So many times she felt she wanted to come up to him and hug him, kiss his forehead and that gray eyes of his father, but she stopped herself. He was at that age when a sweet little boy becomes a jerky ‘touch me not’.
- Well, I’m off, then. See you tomorrow. Ivan.
- Yes?
- Don’t sit here for ages. Go and take Lidka home. Auntie Katya must be tired and… you know I hate you walking in the darkness.
- It’s not dark yet, mum.
- Ivan, you heard what I’ve said.
- Yes, mum.
She knew she could trust him. All that time they were stuck in a foreign land, struggling to make ends meet, he acted the man in the family and she appreciated that. Only she was frightened it would be too much for him. After all, he was only thirteen. And yet he was the only one she felt she could lean on.