Stories written for BBC Radio Kent Competitions (4)

It was only after clicking 'send' that Rebecca realised what she had done and went white.  For a moment she became deeply jealous of her mother.  It was alright for her:  the empty space in her house a constant reminder of the accident two days before.  For Rebecca, three thousand miles away, life was just the same.  When the moment passed, Rebecca went a little whiter and knew she should phone home straight away.

She found the phone under the sofa cushions and pressed the button marked 'home.'  In a second or two the ringtone sounded and Rebecca began to worry about how she might explain it.  She had never been terribly close to her parents.  Her twin sister, Amanda, had phoned about the accident and this would be the first time Rebecca had spoken to her mother since.  Amanda had been the close one and the one to adore: pretty, talented, energetic.  Rebecca spent her teenage years in her room doing homework and listening to music while her parents were out at one of Amanda's plays or hockey matches.  Such segregation made the move abroad easy.

The ringing finally stopped.  "Hello, Maidstone ######."  Instantly, Rebecca, knew her mother didn't need this.  She sounded tired, much smaller and older.  Not the eager lady who answered with a put-on posh accent. 

"Hey, Ma, it's Becky."  "Was that too cheery?" Rebecca thought and found a more caring tone, "How are you?"  "That was just plain patronising."  Rebecca's face dropped another shade.

"Ah, hello, dear.  Not so bad, considering."  Rebecca wondered how her mother managed to sound so strong when she had sounded so worn out only a second before (but was also relieved she had not collapsed into tears).  Maybe she was just pleased to hear Rebecca's voice.....  The thought both cheered Rebecca and made her feel more guilty.

The cheeriness part lasted only a second.  "'Manda's here with me, helping with the arrangements."  "Well, naturally," thought Rebecca, "She always was the angel." 

"Though Becca, just between you and me, she has taken it awfully hard."  ("Is it wrong to smile?")  "She hides it well and is trying to be strong for my sake.  I think she needs you here."

"ME!?"  The colour drained away completely, Rebecca couldn't believe it.  Her and Amanda had been even less close than her and her parents.  Ever since their adolescence had forged two very different young women, the twins had irritated each other horribly.  They hung out in different groups at school and chose Universities at opposite ends of the country.  Rebecca saw Amanda as an airy, pretty, stuck-up socialite while Amanda saw Rebecca as an awkward, prickly, over-sensitive socialist. 

"What could I do, Mum?"

"She needs a sister to look after her and grieve with, not a mother to be strong for, someone who's shoulder she can let go and cry onto.  You two were once so close.  It would do you both good.  Please come home sooner."

The colour finally came back to Rebecca's cheeks and she felt like crying.  One minute strong, one minute weak, her mother sounded frail and helpless again, buried under too much emotional baggage.  She probably just needed space of her own to grieve in, remember the times before the twins were born and after they left home.  Rebecca at home could make that possible.  And maybe Amanda really did need her for the first time in years.  Like when they were ten and their grandmother had died.  They stayed up all night, sitting on the top bunk remembering her and crying together, trying to make sense of death.  Maybe, deep down, Rebecca needed her mother and sister too.  Or would when she got home and it all became real.

Rebecca promised to book new tickets home and phone back with the details immediately.  But first- "Mum, I'm afraid I've done something a bit mean.  That's why I phoned, really."

"What's that, dear?"

"I forgot about the accident and sent you and Dad an e-mail today, I'm so sorry."

Rebecca's mother let out a short laugh.  "That's fine, dear, I did the same and sent 'Manda to get your father in from the garden for tea.  It's alright, dear, I understand.  It must be odd for you- nothing has really changed for you like it has for us."

"Yes, it really will hit me when I get home."

The two said their goodbyes.  Rebecca hung-up with her finger, released the pressure and rang her usual airline.

Note: other stories with the same start