Read Online Removing the Mask by Aimee Whitmee - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Aimee Whitmee
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I’ve let off a load of steam.
We don’t eat in the kitchen like I thought we would. Instead we camp out in the living room, with the telly on and Chinese containers littering the coffee table.
Mum always made us eat in the dining room; she takes pride in the house. The furnishings all match in colour and style.
You look at Bessie’s house from the outside, and instantly think it’s going to be the same but when you walk through the door, you see the dented side tables and puzzles mounted on the walls.
What Bessie and I don’t eat, Jimmy clears easily. He’s like a hoover, sucking up all the food and looking completely unaffected by the amount he’s ingested.
The empty cartons tumble into the bin. The only evidence of the meal is the smell still lingering in the air, and the slightly greasy taste clinging to my tongue.
“Bessie, can you show me what room is mine? I want to pack away what we did bring with us.”
She ‘mhmms’ in the back of her throat as she takes a sip of her coffee before pointing a finger at Jimmy; who’s slowly trying to creep out the room.
“Freeze buster! Can you go and get Ken’s suitcase out the boot of the car?”
Jimmy sighs and nods before disappearing down the hall.
“I wasn’t entirely sure how to design your bedroom, though I knew you wouldn’t want pink, and I couldn’t leave it the way it was because your living here now and I wanted it to be nice.” She leads the way up the polished stairs, and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to run down them in socks.
“Try not to slip when going up and down the stairs, a friend of mine is cleaning the rug.” She glances at me like she knows what I was thinking.
The second floor is pretty plain; I spot a few bedrooms and a bathroom. Most of the doors are shut leaving my imagination to go wild. Instead of leading me to one of these doors, she takes me up the other flight of stairs. There are fewer doors, leaving me to think that the rooms are bigger. She takes me to the door that is right at the end, the very last door.
Like all the other doors it’s polished oak with a polished door knob. The metal seems to mould to my hand as I turn the orb. A sense of déjà vu sweeps through me as I listen to the click before swinging the door open on its silent hinges.
Chapter Eight
“At first I thought about a dark blue and then light blue with it. But, it’s not really you and well, it might look a little like a guy’s room. Then, a friend thought of this idea and well, I thought it fit nicely.”
I shake my head as I turn, taking in the walls and mismatch furniture. “You did all of this? For me?” My gaze lands on myself as I look into the mirror, which is the door to the built in wardrobes.
“No I have another niece moving in; I’m just doing this to make you jealous. Did it work?” Smiling at her sarcastic remark, I admire the bold, brown horizontal line that slashes through the plain maroon walls. “How did you do this in a few days?”
“All we did is paint and shuffle furniture around. I went and bought the bed spread but the rest is a mixture of the other rooms.” She walks over to the bed and smoothes out a phantom crease.
“I- You didn’t have to do all of this. I would have been happy sleeping on a sofa,” I sink onto the bottom of the bed with my hands in my lap. “You’re giving me a do over, which I’m really grateful for. You know what happened and what I’ve done and you know I can be a little shit sometimes yet you’ve still done it and not a lot people wouldn’t have a-” I take a deep breath as a wave of emotion hits me when I realise how much trouble she’s going through for me. “-and I really, really, really appreciate it.” I say with a soft smile.
She sits down and envelops me in a hug. I breathe in and smell her raspberry conditioner and the fabric softener scent that still hangs
We don’t eat in the kitchen like I thought we would. Instead we camp out in the living room, with the telly on and Chinese containers littering the coffee table.
Mum always made us eat in the dining room; she takes pride in the house. The furnishings all match in colour and style.
You look at Bessie’s house from the outside, and instantly think it’s going to be the same but when you walk through the door, you see the dented side tables and puzzles mounted on the walls.
What Bessie and I don’t eat, Jimmy clears easily. He’s like a hoover, sucking up all the food and looking completely unaffected by the amount he’s ingested.
The empty cartons tumble into the bin. The only evidence of the meal is the smell still lingering in the air, and the slightly greasy taste clinging to my tongue.
“Bessie, can you show me what room is mine? I want to pack away what we did bring with us.”
She ‘mhmms’ in the back of her throat as she takes a sip of her coffee before pointing a finger at Jimmy; who’s slowly trying to creep out the room.
“Freeze buster! Can you go and get Ken’s suitcase out the boot of the car?”
Jimmy sighs and nods before disappearing down the hall.
“I wasn’t entirely sure how to design your bedroom, though I knew you wouldn’t want pink, and I couldn’t leave it the way it was because your living here now and I wanted it to be nice.” She leads the way up the polished stairs, and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to run down them in socks.
“Try not to slip when going up and down the stairs, a friend of mine is cleaning the rug.” She glances at me like she knows what I was thinking.
The second floor is pretty plain; I spot a few bedrooms and a bathroom. Most of the doors are shut leaving my imagination to go wild. Instead of leading me to one of these doors, she takes me up the other flight of stairs. There are fewer doors, leaving me to think that the rooms are bigger. She takes me to the door that is right at the end, the very last door.
Like all the other doors it’s polished oak with a polished door knob. The metal seems to mould to my hand as I turn the orb. A sense of déjà vu sweeps through me as I listen to the click before swinging the door open on its silent hinges.
Chapter Eight
“At first I thought about a dark blue and then light blue with it. But, it’s not really you and well, it might look a little like a guy’s room. Then, a friend thought of this idea and well, I thought it fit nicely.”
I shake my head as I turn, taking in the walls and mismatch furniture. “You did all of this? For me?” My gaze lands on myself as I look into the mirror, which is the door to the built in wardrobes.
“No I have another niece moving in; I’m just doing this to make you jealous. Did it work?” Smiling at her sarcastic remark, I admire the bold, brown horizontal line that slashes through the plain maroon walls. “How did you do this in a few days?”
“All we did is paint and shuffle furniture around. I went and bought the bed spread but the rest is a mixture of the other rooms.” She walks over to the bed and smoothes out a phantom crease.
“I- You didn’t have to do all of this. I would have been happy sleeping on a sofa,” I sink onto the bottom of the bed with my hands in my lap. “You’re giving me a do over, which I’m really grateful for. You know what happened and what I’ve done and you know I can be a little shit sometimes yet you’ve still done it and not a lot people wouldn’t have a-” I take a deep breath as a wave of emotion hits me when I realise how much trouble she’s going through for me. “-and I really, really, really appreciate it.” I say with a soft smile.
She sits down and envelops me in a hug. I breathe in and smell her raspberry conditioner and the fabric softener scent that still hangs
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