Black Boxes. Caroline Smailes

      [voiced: ideal woman]

      [volume: low]

      Those words have stuck.

      You'd tell me, my mother is everything that I could hope for within a woman.

       ~That's a bit odd really.~

       ~Don't you think?~

       ~Of course I am not making this up!~

      I should have delved into that a bit more.

      But I didn't.

      I can't believe that I was that stupid.

      So for three years I didn't meet her.

      I feared her instead.

       ~Did you have sex with your mother?~

       ~Did she make you thrust into her until she came all over your cock?~

      I often wonder(ed).

      I have my suspicions.

      [voiced: unrecognisable words]

      [volume: low]

      Your mother had divorced your father when you were three years old and your sister five.

      She still kept the Edwards, but added a Knight to form a double barrel.

       ~Yes I know that you know these details!~

      Your mother had divorced your father because she preferred being single.

      She wanted to do as she pleased.

      She didn't want to answer to anyone else.

      It wasn't about sex.

      It wasn't about the double barrel.

      Or so you told me.

      And from the day of her divorce.

      From the stories and details that I have grabbed.

      Well your mother planned out every aspect of both yours and your sister's lives.

      Your life was to be straight.

      A straight line from here to there.

      I was a pot hole.

      A black tumbling hole.

      And when she said jump.

      You did.

      Right over me.

      [voiced: unrecognisable word]

      [volume: low]

      Your mother was an academic.

      Penny Edwards-Knight, the academic.

      She travelled the country with a pharmaceutical company.

      And was paid a yearly fee by them.

      A fee.

      I love(d) that you called it a fee.

      It made it sound so insignificant.

       ~It wasn't though was it?~

      She was a consultant.

      A researcher.

      An academic who was easily bought.

      Her opinions altered to suit the drug that she was being paid to promote.

      And as you'd boast details about your high-flying goddess.

      I'd think of her as a chameleon.

      A scaly, hard-skinned reptile who changed to fit with her environment.

      A crusty reptile slinking around dragging a huge sack of gold behind her.

      I hated your mother before I even met her.

      I hated your mother when I met her.

      The feeling was mutual.

      I could see it in her eyes.

      I could hear it twist from her tongue

       ~Did she ever wrap you up with her tongue?~

      Your mother.

      Ms Penny Edwards-Knight.

      She demanded attention.

      She demanded.

      And for hours before she telephoned, you would practise your backwards language.

      You spoke every word to her backwards.

      Not forwards.

      The language that she demanded you communicate in.

       ~Do you still use it?~

      For the hours leading up to the designated phone call time, you'd refuse to speak to me.

      The hours were for you to rehearse, to perfect your backward mother tongue.

      And every first Sunday of the month.

      Between the hours of one and three.

      Your mother expected a long and thorough telephone conversation highlighting the key points of the previous month.

      In backward tongue.

      You made notes.

      Of course you made notes.

       ~Didn't you realise that I knew about your scribbled points to include in a conversation?~

      Theme.

      Rheme.

      Theme.

      Rheme.

      You made meticulous notes in the black notebook.

      Your little black book.

      She bought you a new one each Christmas.

      [sound: a throaty laugh]

      [silence]

      And each Christmas you wrapped the filled notebook of notes.

      For her.

      Tied it with a red shiny bow.

      For her.

      [silence]

      ruoy rehtom.

      ehS dednamed noitnetta.

      ehS dednamed.

      dnA rof sruoh erofeb ehs denohpelet uoy dluow esitcarp ruoy sdrawkcab egaugnal.

      ehT egaugnal taht ehs dednamed uoy etacinummoc ni.

       ~Do you still use it?~

      roF eht sruoh gnidael pu ot eht detangised enohp llac emit, d'uoy esufer ot kaeps ot em.

      ehT sruoh erew rof uoy ot esraeher, ot tcefrep ruoy drawkcab rehtom eugnot.

      dnA yreve tsrif yadnuS fo eht htnom.

      neewteB eht sruoh fo eno dna eerht.

      ruoY rehtom detcepxe a gnol dna hguoroht enohpelet noitasrevnoc gnithgilhgih eht yek stniop fo eht suoiverp htnom.

      nI drawkcab eugnot.

      uoY edam seton.

      fO esruoc uoy edam seton.

       ~Didn't you realise that I knew about your scribbled points to include in a conversation?~

      uoY edam suolucitem seton ni eht kcalb koobeton.

      ruoY elttil kcalb koob.

      ehS thguob uoy a wen eno hcae samtsirhC.

      dnA hcae samtsirhC uoy depparw eht dellif koobeton fo seton.

      roF reh.

       ~So where does she step in?~