Half is the new three-quarters

February 14, 2011 § 1 Comment

This is recent, this behaviour. She never used to be like this, he is thinking.

The man in the silver saloon car has pulled up at the side of the college, just by the main road into town. It’s very convenient – he can drop his daughter off on the way in to work, get a half hour with her on her own. She used to love it when she was a little girl, car rides with daddy without her brothers poking at her and talking over her. Nowadays, though – nowadays often as not she’s on her phone, texting away, or otherwise she’s silent, staring out of the window, responding in grunts if she responds at all.

She always loved drawing. Always wanted to be an artist. She’d tell anyone who’d listen.

It’s all about fashion now. She says she wants to be a designer, cavorts round in god knows what and he half thinks he should say something about how she’s not leaving the house dressed like that but then he thinks he’ll leave it for her mother, let her fight the harder battles, let his girl love him.

She’s reached into the boot for her portfolio case and he looks across, expectant, as she walks back past the car.

She doesn’t even acknowledge him.

Doesn’t even glance.

She’s off, smart in that new red coat she got for Christmas, and off towards the college entrance.

She’s not a clue what it does to him. A goodbye doesn’t really take so much, does it? Really?

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