Yellow Iris*


“I don’t think I’m up to going to the theatre,” I say to Mum.  “Am in a lot of pain from the expander and I’m just not up to it and…”

“Well you’re coming,” Mum says, looking cross.  “You were the one who wanted to see this play so…”

“And now I’m not feeling well,” I say.  “Can’t I just stay here or…”

“You can’t go out in that dress,” the panther says, staring at me.  “You’re so fat.  It’s disgusting.  You won’t fit into the seat.”

“All right,” Mum says.  “If you really don’t want to come I’m not going to force you.  You can stay here and watch Serena.  We have to go though – say goodbye to me nicely.”

“Bye,” I say, feeling sad.  Going to my room, sitting on my bed, I burst into tears.  I can’t just stay here on my own and cry about Seb and become more and more miserable.  Putting my fit-flops on, I run up the house.

“Come on then,” Mum says, putting her arm round me.  “Let’s go out and have a nice time and…”

“I’m sorry about making such a fuss,” I say, tears running down my face.

“It doesn’t matter darling,” Mum says as we sit in the car, handing me a tissue.  “It’s over.  I’ve forgotten it.”

And, of course, I do have a nice time.  The play – Howard Brenton’s Lawrence After Arabia – is engaging and diverting.  And it takes my mind off Seb for a bit – or it would do apart from the fact that Lawrence as portrayed in the play does remind me a lot of Seb in various ways. 

Anyway – pleased with self for Doing Something.  Used to love the theatre and now hardly ever go as I feel so ill most of the time.  Am glad that I went.

The above photo is today’s Spin outfit.  The attached photo is the water irises in Mum’s pond.

Happy Saturday everyone!
*1937.  By Agatha Christie.  Hercule Poirot detective story.

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