Over the Moon by Jean Ure Page B

Believe me! It’s not a spur of the moment decision … I’ve been thinking of it for a very long time.”
    Somehow, that just made it even worse. The thought of Mum secretly brooding to herself. Plotting and planning how she was going to leave us. Planning to walk out!
    “Scarlett?” She smiled, hopefully. “Come and give me a kiss and tell me you don’t hate me.”
    But I wouldn’t. Cos I did hate her! I wrote furiously in my diary that I hated, hated,
hated
her.
    She can sweet-talk as much as she likes. She needn’t think she’s going to get round me! I shall never forgive her for what she’s doing to Dad. He loves her SO MUCH. He’s always telling her how beautiful she is, and how proud he is of her. She ought to think herself lucky, having a husband like that! He’s never been mean to her, not once. Mum’s the one that’s always nagging and finding fault. At least, just lately. She never used to be like that. We used to be a real family. We used to be HAPPY. Now she’s gone and ruined it all, and I just don’t know what Dad’s ever done to deserve it. He’s never so much as LOOKED at another woman. Lots of men do, but not my dad. Serve her right if hewent out and got a girlfriend. Half her age and twice as pretty. Oh, God, I hate her! I hate her, I HATE her!
    I thought that it simply wasn’t true, what Mum had said. Dad didn’t put her down all the time, he just pulled her leg a bit. Like when she got too serious he’d tell her to chill, or to lighten up. That wasn’t putting her down! That was just teasing. It certainly didn’t seem to me a good enough reason for her to walk out on us. She could just as easily have stayed put and done her stupid studying during the day, when me and Dad weren’t around. Do it all night as well, if she wanted. It wouldn’t worry me and Dad! We wouldn’t interfere. We’d just do our own thing, same as we always did, and let her get on with it. But at least she’d have
been
here.
    When I asked Dad about it, he just hunched a shoulder and said, “You know your mum. She gets these ideas.”
    “But what’s the point of it?” I said. “What’s she want a degree for? What’s she going to do with it?”
    “I guess it will make her feel good,” said Dad. “Load of nonsense, if you ask me, but if that’s what she wants …”
    “But what about what
we
want?”
    “Doesn’t seem to matter what we want,” said Dad. “She’s a very wilful woman, your mother.”
    “She’s
selfish
,” I said.
    “That’s one way of looking at it,” agreed Dad.
    “I mean … what are we going to do? How are we going to manage? I can’t cook!”

    “Don’t you worry,” said Dad. “We’ll survive. We’ll get stuff sent in, we’ll go and eat out  … we’ll have a whale of a time! We’ll eat junk food till it comes out of our ears. While the cat’s away  …” He winked at me. “Make hay while the sun shines, and all that.”
    Dad was trying very hard to pretend he didn’t care, but I knew that he did. I can always tell when Dad’s putting it on. He’s a very up-front kind of person, far more huggy and kissy than Mum. When he’s feeling happy, he likes everyone to join in. When he’s feelingANGRY, then, boy, the whole world has to suffer! But when something really, really gets to him, like deep down inside, he goes into what Mum used to call his “macho mode”. All blokeish and blustery and couldn’t give a damn. It was what he was doing now, and I just played along cos that was what seemed easiest.
    “At least she won’t be able to keep nagging at me,” I said. “Like passing exams is the only thing that gives you any right to even
exist
!’
    “I never passed an exam in my life,” said Dad.
    “She’s so hung up about it! It’s just, like, nag nag nag, the whole time.”
    “Not any more,” said Dad. “You just do your own thing. There’ll be no nagging from now on.”
    I’d almost made up my mind that that was it: I was through with