Page 17 of A Spell of Midlife Mayhem

Rachel continued. ‘You’re reluctant to discuss the idea? Damn. It’s crap I’m too busy with work. I wish I could go with you for a week or two and have a holiday. That would be fun.’

Except Rachel would have money and time to enjoy herself if she did that. I would have to look after Aunt Ruth and find a job, so it wouldn’t be much of a holiday for me.

***

I GOT HOME ABOUT TEN o’clock, light-headed from the two or three (or four) cocktails I’d had. We’d had a bowl of crunchy kumara chips to mitigate the alcohol, which must have helped somewhat. What condition would I have been in if I hadn’t had any food?

In the kitchen, I made a white hot chocolate and sat at the table to drink it. What was I going to do? My life had fallen apart in mere days. What would my future hold, and how could I turn it in my favour? The whole situation was overwhelming.

Rachel hadn’t understood how complex everything was for me. Anything to do with money was a breeze for her because she didn’t have to manage on a pittance salary like mine. She lived debt-free and had a somewhat Marie Antoinette view about people with mortgages and not enough to get by.

At quarter past ten, when my head had slumped onto my arms on the table, a video call from Rose came through on my tablet and stirred me from my drowsy state. I’d been too tired to drag myself upstairs to bed.

I answered it.

‘Hi, Mum.’ Rose was looking in a mirror, applying mascara. Her phone was angled against the side of the mirror, catching her at an angle that skewed her face. ‘I’m about to go out on the town, and I thought I’d call you first to see how you’re holding up.’

I grinned wryly. My late night out had ended before my daughter’s night out typically started. A sign of aging? ‘I’ve just come in from an outing myself,’ I said.

She stopped applying her makeup and studied me for a short time. ‘Not a date already?’ She beamed. ‘You look really nice with your hair done.’

‘Not a date. I met Rachel to chat about my domestic issues.’

Rose went back to what she’d been doing, less interested now that there wasn’t gossip-worthy news. ‘I’m going to a club with a few friends.’

‘Be careful, love. Mind your drinks.’

‘I’m always careful, Mum, but thanks for thinking of me. How’s Dad?’

‘He may have gone to his girlfriend’s place,’ I said. ‘He hasn’t even come back for anything. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d set himself up there a while ago.’

‘Bastard. He might be my dad, but he’s still a bastard.’

‘Sure is.’

Rose put her mascara down and stared at me. ‘What are you going to do now, Mum? Have you decided?’

Everyone wanted to know what I was going to do. I still hadn’t got my head around it all. Aunt Ruth, my husband’s cheating... and my mother’s ghost. I dared not tell anyone about her. They’d call the mental health hotline to have me assessed.

‘I’m still considering my options.’

‘That’s sensible, Mum, but you have a habit of saying that and not following through. Sometimes, you need to have a bit of faith and just go for it.’

‘And what is it you think I should go for?’ I braced myself. Would my psychology student daughter suggest something insightful or something crazy?

Rose turned at a rapping on the door. ‘My friends are here to pick me up. I’ve got to go, Mum. Let’s talk again soon.’

She disconnected.

I exhaled, staring at the screen as it went dark. The promised advice wasn’t forthcoming.

Rose was right about something, though. I had to decide what I was going to do. Soon. Otherwise, the decisions might be taken out of my hands.

I debated back and forth with myself at the kitchen table while I finished my drink. Would my Mum’s ghost make another appearance? If so, I could grill her for more information.

She didn’t. Had she found her way to the ‘beyond’ or whatever she called it after all?

There was a lot I didn’t know about ghosts, but when she’d appeared before me at first, I hadn’t been shocked. Instead, communicating with her as an apparition was natural and effortless. It was like you’d never painted a watercolour before, and then you discovered that you have an innate talent for it.

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