3

Ira felt like collapsing on her bed and becoming dead to the world.Having had a rather hectic night . Why was tonight so tasking?, and above all, ‘When on earth was she gonna throw up  this job for better employment’,that was only a question only…., her thoughts were interrupted by the beeping of the microwave,’There there’ she thought,’ dinner’s ready’ .She went into the kitchen, went through the ritual of emptying the food into a plate and filling her hungry stomach before she developed an ulcer.

Her stomach full and her body refreshed from the bath she had just had, Ira picked up her copy of James Hadley Chase’s The Way The Cookie Crumbles wondering what her life would have been like if she was the ‘Ira’ mentioned there. With that, she fell into a slumber fit for the dead.

She awoke at exactly 09:00 hours, feeling disoriented from the nightmare she had just had, ‘What can’t have a rest for gawd’s sake!!’ she muttered holding her forehead and clearing her eyes groggy from sleep. Getting up she stretched, yawned and made her way into the bathroom to brush and take her bath.

          At 01:00 hours she was bathed, refreshed and feeling happy with a cup of tea at her elbow seated on a cushion in her sitting-room. Her feet felt wooden and lifeless this morning. She hated mornings like this, where she had to do with a cake and a cup of tea which metamorphosed into several when she felt she had nothing worthwhile to do. Picking up her laundry, she had them sent to the laundromart.

          Dressed in a faded jeans and t-shirt, she felt sixteen once again, waking up expecting Dad home again only to sadly remember that Dad had unceremoniously divorced her mum and left her no alimony to live on and…….

          Things like that should definitely be exterminated from her thinking list. She had a life to live and forget about some yellow sonofabitch who’s got nothing to do than run after some rich piece of ass for some cheese. ‘The rat!!’ she fumed recalling the sheer image of hopelessness and dejection her mother’s face had presented on the fifteenth of December when the lawyer served her the divorce papers to sign . Worst of all, he had denounced all paternal rights to Ira, now she was stuck with going by her mother’s maiden name, Mill instead of Duvene.

          Now, here she was exactly 26, no prospects of getting a good job with her college degree and a nagging mother to support. Her mother had been 38 when she became divorced and that made her what now? , 48. Ten years without a father and a husband had turned them to strangers. Brianna that couldn’t say ‘boo’ to a fly now had the balls to nag her daughter.

          Ira Mill, you are certainly going off the hook. Time to make herself useful!

                   And she hopped into the bedroom, smiling gaily.

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          ‘I love you, Craig and I feel you should that I want us to make this work; me, you and the baby, a family……These were the last words she was to utter to him alive. Now, in shock he stared at a framed photo of her which never left its position on his bedside drawer. In that, she wore a red bathing suit which definitely stank of money, minimal make-up and a baby-like expression on her face as she set a pink balloon free in the sky on the beach. She was small yet so beautiful and fragile. Above all, she was with their child. ‘Raina!!!!!’ he screamed ,sobbing and tossing on his bed.

                   Craig Fuller had had a harrowing experience on reading about Raina’s death. Worst of all, was his inability to go offer his condolences in fear of her mother; Nancy Drew was a tigeress and hated him on sight.Their first meeting left him in no doubt that she viewed him as nothing but scum. He could only read the papers and sob hysterically, blinding  himself with alcohol. His days had dragged on endlessly and uneventfully. He could not his condolences extend for fear of appraisal. Patrick and Nancy had made it clear that whatever relationship he had with Raina was inexistent. Scums of the earth like him should search for their equals and leave their dear , sweet Raina.

                   But Raina, stubborn Raina had assured him there was nothing to fear.They loved, lived and laughed never looking back. On that fateful night on which she had broken the news of her pregnancy,they had celebrated with a bottle of champagne. They giggled and laughed like schoolchildren. Raina had slept contentedly on his laps that night. She permeated every part of his being, filling him with love ,joy ,happiness and all the good things he had ever dreamed of. She had promised that they would be married once the baby was born in about 7 months. Craig Fuller, ex-convict without money, status or anything. His eyes wandered round the room, and in a fit of rage, he threw whatever he could lay his hands on; glasses, tables, chairs, paper-whatever it was; they received a dose of his sudden rage.