The Generation Gap [short story]

Contains strong language

‘That rotten cow can’t do this to me – she knows that I’ve always been bloody good in biology. What’s with the woman? What difference would it make to her to let me resit the bloody exam?’ Her mother looked on helplessly in the vain hope that the moment would pass.

‘Come on, ducks. Don’t get yourself worked up like this,’ her mother soothed. ‘You’ll see that when you get back to school in September everything will be ok.’ She felt at a loss whenever her daughter had one of these turns as she knew that whatever she said, it would always be wrong and would just serve to make her daughter’s hackles rise all the more.

‘Oh just shut up will you, Mum! There’s no way you’re gonna get me back inside that fucking school,’ Jay screamed as she stormed out of the kitchen and bounded up the stairs and into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Her mother could hear her heavy footsteps as she crossed the floor above and threw herself onto her creaking bed.

Emotionally entangled with a boyfriend who did not go down well with her parents – he was an Irish Roman Catholic and drank beer – they were Anglicans and teetotallers – the hormonal and emotional storm in which Jay found herself had had a disastrous effect on her secondary school exam results. What peeved her more than anything was the fail in biology which had always been her best subject, and that her headmistress was refusing to let her resit.

By the time her father got home from work ten minutes later, far from having improved, the atmosphere in the household was overcharged with unreleased energy which would take only one wrong word to explode. He must have felt it as he came through the front door and seemed undecided as to whether to face up to the crisis before or after dinner. Either way something was going to be ruined – his meal or his evening.

He found his wife in front of the kitchen stove putting the finishing touches to their dinner. She looked small and defeated and was waiting for the worst which was bound to come as soon as her husband broached the subject of her discussion with Jay. He took her shuddering shoulders in both his hands and pulling her gently towards him, kissed her on the back of her head. He didn’t need to face her to sense that she was sobbing quietly.

‘So are you going to tell me what’s happened or have I got to guess for myself?’ he asked with a sigh. His day in the office had been a long one, and the ninety minutes drive home always just about knocked him out for the count.

‘I just don’t know how to deal with her anymore.’ Nellie said. ‘Since all this fuss about resitting her biology exam she has become intolerable. She treats me like dirt and it cuts me up to see her suffering like this.’

Eddy had seen the changes for himself but didn’t seem to want to admit that he too was at a loss. Jay never lifted a finger to help her mother, and treated her with disrespect. He had a feeling though, that this recent aggressive behaviour was symptomatic of a discontent which went much deeper than the failed examination.

‘Come on, Nellie. I don’t want to come home and find you like this. Maybe she’s having boyfriend problems, no?’ Eddy reasoned.

‘Hormones more like but whatever it is, you can call her down for dinner because if I do I’ll probably just end up getting another mouthful.’

Eddy traipsed heavily up the stairs like a man feeling the full burden of his sixty years on his shoulders, and tapped on Jay’s bedroom door.

‘Dinner’s ready. Come and eat before it all goes cold’ he said briskly, turning to go back down before waiting for a reply. As he reached the kitchen Jay could be heard leaving her room and descending the stairs two at a time.

Nellie and Eddy were surprised to see their daughter take her place at table and tuck into her food. She didn’t look at either of them. They glanced briefly at one another and began to eat. But Eddy couldn’t put off the dreaded moment any longer and sought the right words as an opening, bracing himself for the worst.

‘Have you got something you think you should tell me, love? Your mum was very upset when I got home,’ he began. He could see his daughter biting her bottom lip, eyes cast downwards, her knife and fork gripped in her fists. She was attempting to contain her emotions knowing that her dad was not to be tampered with. He certainly wouldn’t tolerate being treated in the same way as she had treated her mother earlier.

‘I don’t want to go back to school, that’s what. My mate Lynda’s signed up for a secretarial course. That’s what I want to do too. Who needs university anyway?’ she said, miffed that her mother had tittle-tattled to her Dad about the blow-up earlier, but relieved to have said what was bothering her.

‘O.K., but that hardly explains why your Mum was crying does it?’ Eddy insisted. He felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him at this new development and was hard pushed to control the lump in his throat, but he couldn’t let it show. Nellie could see the breakdown coming;

‘It doesn’t matter, Eddy. Let her get on with her meal now. We can talk another moment maybe,’ though she realised that they never would. Jay was ready to take on the world on her own terms, and nothing they could say would make any difference now.

It was too much for Jay who broke down into tears. She knew that she treated her Mum badly, but found it so hard to control her controversial behaviour. There were moments when she felt as if she was on an emotional roller coaster when the ups and downs seemed so intense that she never had the time to rationalise her handling of the simplest task. Her level of tolerance, particularly with her Mum, was almost nil. And the hardest thing to accept was knowing that her mother understood that and kept on loving her just the same.

***

Jay stood in front of the hob firmly holding the saucepan handle whilst she stirred the rich, aromatic tomato sauce bubbling gently in the pan, one of the dishes that her mother had taught her to cook over the years. When Eddy had died, Nellie had been pleased to have something to keep her occupied and had spent as much time as she could at the home of the newlyweds.

Sitting in her favourite armchair in the corner of Jay’s open-plan kitchen-diner, Nellie remembered how it had given her an excuse to pass more time with her adorable granddaughter, Gaby, whose charming nature, big brown eyes and soft black curls had won her over from the first time she saw her. She had found it impossible to resist that sweet smile and was thrilled at the touch of those little dimpled hands.

She looked up as Gaby, now a fine looking teenager, stomped into the kitchen —

‘Can you just tell me where the fuck you’ve hidden my bloody jeans, Mum?’

Jay turned aghast to observe her daughter.

‘Gaby, do you really have to use that language in front of your grandmother?’

Nellie raised her head just in time to catch the hurt expression in her daughter’s eyes and looked on quietly with a knowing twinkle in her own.

Life writing — WORD COUNT 1289 — © Janys Hyde