And now Llewella - my ... alleged mother - has arrived, with much pomp and fanfare. I simply couldn't stay in the Trump link with Simon, however guilty (not very guilty) it made me feel to bail out of it. How could I? I'd not seen her in years, and never knowing that she was probably my mother. And now? I'm not sure what to do. So I'll just look at her, and let her take the initiative in this...
I think Tobias misread my look. He thought it was a reminder that I wanted to talk to her. Really ... I was ... jealous that he had had contact with her so much more recently than I.
There is ... now that I meet her ... so much I want to say to her. Ask her. Demand of her. So much that I have ... nowhere to start.
No. There must be somewhere. Somewhere ... to begin.
Ah. Yes. Where? Where were you? If you're my mother, where in the names of all the twenty million gods were you? Did you not care? I was only eight! Eight! Where were you? Why didn't you help me?! If ever, ever I needed you, it was then! Where were you?!
I'm not sure - yet - whether I want nothing to do with her, or everything. Whether I should hate her, or not. Whether I should treat her like shit, or like gold. We'll see...
So that's how it's to be. Her ordering be about. Me ... betrayed. She doesn't care for me, it seems. That was clear as soon as she opened her mouth. So cold, and abrupt, and disgusted.
And I ... I was stupid, to have hoped for so much more. A reason why she abandoned me, if nothing else.
If I was the type, I'd weep. But I'm not. And I won't Won't give her the satisfaction. Wouldn't even if I were that type.
She told me to 'freshen up' in the hour before she wants to see me. But why should I bother? My clothes are clean on, barely hours old, and they've only got some blood on them. And anyway, it looks like nothing I do will improve her opinion of me. Clearly punctuality is out of the question too. Let's see how she likes that.
Bah. The way her reaction makes me feel, I almost wish I'd not come here at all.
I didn't mean to snap at Rayner either. It's not him I was at odds with, but her. I hope he was right when he said that she probably feels guilty about or to me, and that's why she's acting so distant. Gods, I hope so. I didn't even think of that as a reason for her actions. I hope he's right. I really do.
This is another one of those times when I could really use a drink, but, alas, it is just not the right thing to do at the present moment.