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I hit a writer's block just before I completed my last submission, Full Circle, which I'd intended to be the final outing for Sarah and her family. I was also struggling with a new story idea, but when I got around to finalising Full Circle, an idea hit me. This story is about Kirstie Hunter who first appeared briefly in Cricket Match, as a very minor character. No need to read that (although I'd like you to at some point), this stands alone and anything you need to know will be here. There is a bit of tragedy at the start, which is detailed in previous stories and it's only setting the scene.
There will be a long lead-in before there is any sexual activity, so if that is what you're after, look elsewhere.
All characters are fictitious and over eighteen when involved in anything sexual, which is all consensual. Any resemblance to other persons is accidental, it is set in a fictional city in the East Midlands of England.
Flight home and reflection
I awoke confused, there was a strange humming and this wasn't a proper bed, then I realised that I was on a plane. I stretched and one of the cabin crew offered me coffee, which I accepted. I sat up, stretched again and headed for the bathroom. When I got back to my seat the bedding had been tidied up and my coffee was waiting.
I sat down grateful that I was travelling home from Australia in business class. It had been expensive, but it was worth the money on such a long flight, and I'd still been angry when I took my seat.
My mother had refused to take me to the airport, even I didn't realise how much she hated me. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I had been. I'd been invited to a conference about genetic research, I thought that it was a good idea and that I might learn something, which I had. I'd warned my parents that I was in the country, but hadn't had a response, so I turned up on their doorstep. It had been the most uncomfortable three days of my life and I'd avoided them as much as possible.
*****
A long time ago now, when I was only eleven, I'd arrived home from school only to be told, by my parents that we were leaving. I'd smiled assuming that we were going on holiday, but that idea was dashed when my mother said that we were going to Australia. "How long for?" I'd asked.
"For good, your father has a new job and there are lots of opportunities for us there."
"But my friends?" I'd asked.
"You'll make new ones." The reply was terse and simple.
"What about Grandad?"
"What about him? He'll cope, I'm sure." She made it clear that the conversation was over.
I never understood how my grandfather could have any connection to my mother. They shared similar features but that was it. My mother had always been cold towards me, it was as if I was an inconvenience, but her father was the polar opposite. I'd never doubted that he loved me, he cuddled me, nurtured me, spent time with me and made me laugh. The idea of leaving him behind and not seeing him again made me cry.
It made him cry as well when he learned of the plans. He held me so tight I thought that he might squash me. I'd had an hour with him between being told the news and leaving for the other side of the world. I cried for most of the flight, much to my mother's annoyance.
I hated Australia at first, they had strange accents, different names for things, they called me a 'pommy' and I had no friends. It didn't change for a long time; I kept to myself, kept my head down and studied hard, of course, that further alienated me. I wrote emails to grandad twice a week and he replied to every second one. Those emails kept me sane, or at least they helped.
My parents had never shown me much affection and they preferred me out of the way. It was during a biology lesson one day that the teacher talked about genetics and inheriting DNA from our parents. That fascinated me, how could a mother be so different from her father and in turn from me? I read every word that I could about the subject and that was probably what made me choose it as a career.
My mother was happy for me to go back to England during the holidays, despite having to travel halfway around the world, unaccompanied. I was used to being on my own so it didn't bother me at the time, but now I still find it hard to believe they thought that it was okay. I did it twice and loved every second that I was with my grandad. He later told me, when I'd grown up a lot that, he'd tried to keep me there with him, but my mother had refused.
I was eighteen and selecting which university to attend when I told my mother that I was interested in girls and not boys. That did not go down well, not at all. She was horrible and called me all sorts of names, my father, never one to waste words on me anyway just stopped talking to me altogether. Suddenly, she changed her mind about me studying at Oxford, something she'd point blank refused a couple of months earlier. Now, it seemed that she was happy to be rid of me.
I was elated and set off as soon as I could and grandad was delighted. I lived at the university during the term but travelled to what I treated as home every couple of weeks and in between terms. I worked during the vacation times and kept house. I cooked meals for us, did the laundry and cleaned. In return grandad spent time with me, we had fun together and he showed me his love. He was the head groundsman for the county cricket club and I'd been to the ground with him many, many times and because of that I'd come to love cricket, I'd even managed to attend games in Australia, despite my parents' hatred of the sport. So, when I was back living with him, I watched many games, it was something that we enjoyed doing together. I'd tried playing, but I lacked the skills needed, I was a boffin, not a sportswoman. And the hard ball scared me silly.
When I graduated, with honours, I decided to go on to study for a master's degree, specialising in genetics and was able to do that at the university in my home city, so I stayed with grandad. He was proud of me, supported me financially and encouraged me to go on to do a doctorate. That lead me to the company that I still work for, researching various aspects of genetics and developing new techniques.
My parents never came to visit, they never attended any of my graduations and contact with them was minimal. Just before I started working full time, I travelled back to Australia to visit them. After ten days I traded in my ticket and came home three weeks early. The reception I got on my return was one I should have got from my parents. To this day I have no idea why they are like that.
*****
Now I was on my way back. It would be good to return to my home, where I'd lived for the past fourteen years, initially with grandad and since his passing, alone. I missed him; I spoke to him often, to tell him about my work, my life, my thoughts, anything and everything. He never answered, but I felt his presence, he'd shaped me, loved me and because of him, I was who I was today. I suppose that I was lucky that I didn't turn out like my mother.
