Page 2 of If We Were Young

I snorted a laugh. “I think that’s the idea.”

“Why haven’t you got a job? Why's it just me?”

“Jeez, you sound like you’ve signed up for a lifetime of service in a distant war zone. It’s a summer job at the Post Office, they won’t work you to death.”

“No, Ronnie!” She held her eyes wide open and grabbed my arm tight in one hand while waving the other in front of my face. “Look! Look at this. Six months these took to grow and look at them now.”

Shaking my head, I pulled out a chair and offered her the seat.

“No. I do need a smoke.” She motioned for the back garden and I cringed. “Coming?”

“Ma is out there.”

“Ugh. Does she look like King Kong has punched her in the vagina?”

I gagged loudly. “Please don’t ever mention my mother’s vagina again.”

“Quite.” Ange and I both straightened at the voice behind us. How had she crept around the front like that? The woman was everywhere. “I ask you to not discuss my private areas, Angela Bennett.”

I gagged again. This conversation was heading south quick. Literally.

Ange nodded her head towards the kitchen door in a not so secret code for ‘let’s get the hell out of here’. Shooting an apologetic glance at Ma, I hustled her out.

“I don’t know why you have to antagonise her.”

“Because she’s Hitler dressed in women’s clothing, Ronnie. I know you love your parents, but this is ridiculous. You’ve been living here the whole time I’ve known you. I bet she made you a boiled egg and soldiers this morning.”

“French toast, for your information.” I fell into one of the garden chairs with a sigh. They were the type where you had to get your balance on right otherwise you’d flip through the air like a pancake.

Ange slunk into a spare one and crossed her long legs. “I thought I was having a heart attack there for a moment.”

“And how we would all mourn, although I have to say I’m liking the red lipstick. Better than last week's pastel pink,” I teased.

“You would mourn me, and you know it.” She performed a shit job at looking offended. “Lemme guess, you’ve been nowhere and done nothing since the last time I graced you with my fabulous presence.”

I curled my top lip. “Where would I go?”

“Oh, I don’t know. The bloody job centre? Beg them for something to do so you don’t have to be your mother’s skivvy all day.”

“I’m not a skivvy. It was part of the agreement, you know that.”

Ange sucked on her cigarette like it was dying and she planned to give it the kiss of life. “Yes, yes. Veronica.” She wagged her finger and twisted her tone so it rankled right down my spine. “You shall stay here the whole way through university and forthwith are banned from participating in any fun.”

“That’s exaggerating.”

She arched a fair eyebrow.

“Uni is over, isn’t it, Ronnie? You’ve stayed home, had your tuition paid. What happens next?”

I glared at the sky. How dare it be so pretty and blue when my heart felt like a black hole in the middle of the universe?

“Oh, here you go.” Ange clipped, as tart as an unripe apple. “Let’s sigh and look depressed while we flop all over the place. Come on, Ronnie! What happens next?”

I grimaced, but that tightness around my chest pinged like a rubber band. “I’m not going anywhere, am I?” I pushed back in the chair and made the springs behind the floral cushions squeak.

“Just go. Pack a bag. Take a gap year.” Her smile stretched. “Better yet, come and work in the post office with me.”

“I’m not working in a post office, and you know why I’m not going anywhere.”