The everlasting candle

Smudger, Laura and Matt from work had come to work at my house. It didn’t look anything like my house though, as my brother had redecorated and redesigned all the rooms. The kitchen was a really nice, modern kitchen with a black tiled floor and oak furniture. It was much bigger and had things that we’ve never had, like a bread bin. They worked in the kitchen for a bit and then left to get lunch up the road and go back to the office

A bald guy in glasses came to the house to have a meeting with mother. He saw all the leftover cups and saucers that my colleagues had left and said “That’s a fancy way to have tea.” Mother explained to him that we’d had guests and they had their meeting.

Later, mother had another meeting with a woman. I think she was a fashion designer or something, as she spoke a lot about clothes and ‘new lines’. She had a male assistant, who was younger than mother. He had dark hair and seemed permanently happy. We had some Lego that we’d just bought on the table and he started building some of it, with mother correcting him on some of the pieces.

The woman was taking and showing some new black leather boots that they were bringing out. She asked mother the last time she’d worn long boots and mother said she had some but she’d not not worn them in a decade.

The woman put the boots away and mother brought out a cake. Mother lit a candle and blew it out, then carried on talking to the woman. While she wasn’t looking, the candle relit itself with a much bigger flame. I shouted to put it out and mother panicked. We tried to blow it out, but it was too big. I got a little cup, filled it up with water and splashed the flame out. It seemed to have worked, but then it came back. I took the candle and dropped it in the sink, which was full of water. The flame went out and we left it in there.

A while later, the woman left and Mother went outside. Again, it didn’t look like our garden. My brother and I watched as she climbed up onto a ledge and stepped through a gap in the fence to go into the neighbour’s garden. I asked if her had was okay, because I was worried when I blew the candle it went on her hand – I think she’d put a bandage on it after. She said it was and carried on into the garden.

On the other side of the fence, she was now holding my niece, Halle, and took her over to the neighbour’s young daughter. They spoke a bit and then the girl went inside, leaving mother alone in her garden.

I lamented “The only thing with making a friend is you make yourself vulnerable.”

I think by that I meant mother had made a friend, but I could see the girl had gotten fed up of mother and left her, so mother was left feeling alone and sad, which was always a risk after having made the friend. It made sense in my head.