The next morning Elinor ambled contentedly along to the kitchen, only to find Tony and her mother were there before her. Tony was holding a mug of coffee in his hands but his stance was rigid and tense. Puzzled, Elinor looked at him and saw his chocolate-brown eyes were blazing with anger. After hesitating for a moment, Tony brushed past her and exited the kitchen.
Elinor turned to her mother and sighed.
‘What’s going on, Mum? What have you done now?’
‘Nothing at all,’ protested Morwenna adamantly. ‘I’ve done nothing. And if he says I have, don’t believe him.’
‘Given your behaviour over the last few days, I think I’d believe him, Mum. What games are you playing?’
Elinor stared sternly at her mother but if she hoped to abash her she singularly failed. Morwenna pouted and shrugged her shoulders.
‘If you’re going to believe him rather than me, there’s nothing else to be said.’
Morwenna put her mug in the dishwasher and stalked out of the kitchen. Elinor walked back to her room, only to find Tony packing his bag. Elinor looked at him in dismay.
‘Tony, you’re not leaving?’ she faltered.
‘I’m afraid so. If I stay any longer I might end up belting your mother. So in the interests of our relationship I think it’s best I leave.’
‘What did she do?’
‘She made a pass at me.’
‘Oh, come on, Tony. I can’t believe that’s true. You must have mistaken her natural tactility for a pass.’
Tony straightened up and glared at Elinor.
‘She grabbed my crotch, Elinor. I don’t think that was by accident, do you?’
‘Oh God, no!’
‘Yes, Elinor. I’m sorry but that’s the truth. Look, I’ll give you a call later on. I’m going to need to cool down first.’
With that Tony picked up his bag and made his way out of the house.
Elinor felt a wave of such red-hot fury overwhelm her that she was sure she’d burst into flames. She stomped down the corridor and angrily opened her mother’s bedroom door, without even the courtesy of knocking first.
Morwenna was sitting dejectedly on her bed amongst a complete carnage of miscellaneous items, looking a little like the portrait of General Marius sitting forlornly amongst the ruins of Carthage.
She looked up at Elinor.
‘What is it, darling?’
Scowling at her mother, Elinor suddenly felt her rage slowly draining away as she noticed how old and worn she looked in her silk pyjamas and without any make-up. Her mother seemed so vulnerable these days. She seemed to be on a path to self-destruction and at the end of the day she was only making things harder for herself.
‘Mum, you can’t carry on like this,’ Elinor said sadly.
Her sympathetic tone seemed to strike a chord in Morwenna. Morwenna looked out of the window as though trying to restrain her tears. After a minute or two of silence, Morwenna turned to face Elinor again.
‘I’m absolutely fine, Elinor. I really don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said brightly.
At that point Elinor gave it up and returned, defeated, to her room. Three more days to go, she said to herself, just three more days. Then peace will be restored once more.