Split Personality

It was just for one night; so don’t be fooled by her affable personality and effervescent nature. During her short hospital visit, Maria had learned that her hostility and abruptness, was, in contrary to popular opinion actually working wonders for her. She had pushed her mother towards the clutches of depression and senility; meaning that she no longer had to endure the witches’ tyranny and interference, that unenviable task has been left to the nurses at the Royal Hospital. And her college boyfriend John, tried to change her, which amounted to a waste of time when all things are considered; she did rather enjoy emptying his bank account though. In her twisted mind, it was his own fault, who leaves their pin number stuck on the fridge?

   At a time in the distant past, Maria was a kind hearted soul, and family members have spent countless fruitless hours, attempting to figure out how her once pleasant demeanour turned into a dark sinister side, literally overnight. Her sister Demi, is keen to push the blame towards their estranged father, who’s travelled more miles than Alan Wicker’s suitcase. The family never knew where Paul was, he would write the occasional letter stating that he lived in a two bedroom flat in Leeds, then he would claim he’d relocated to Glasgow, before short spells in London, Newcastle, Cardiff, Suffolk, Kent and finally a Travelodge in Birmingham. Demi liked to dismiss her brother’s claim, that Maria always was a bad apple, she would always defend her sister, but deep down Demi knew that she agreed with her brother Daniel’s assertion.

  Standing on the driveway of an exquisite house, completed with German sports cars, Maria checked her watch. 6.00pm. She took out her pocket mirror from her handbag, and swept her hair behind her left ear. Before adjusting her collar, and applying more crimson lipstick. She reminded herself that it was all in the preparation. As she approached the mahogany door, an elderly lady peered out of the porch window and smiled at Maria; who gave an uncharacteristic smile back. She rang the bell, and the elderly lady called out ‘it’s open.’  Before Maria had time to take in her surroundings a middle aged man rushed down the stairs, with a look of shock on his face. ‘You know, it’s usually the norm to knock on someone’s door before allowing yourself in, can I help you?’ The man’s tone was brash and ruthless. ‘I am quite aware of the social conventions when one is knocking on someone’s door, but your mother let me in.’ ‘My mother in law, yes, she does have the habit of letting strangers in.’ ‘Oh I think your mistaken, I am no stranger.’

   Maria wondered into the lounge, where the elderly lady was sat in a brown leather chair with a tartan blanket covering her; she was watching the evening news. The elderly lady called ‘hello dear, come and make yourself comfortable..... Andrew why don’t you bring me and this lovely girl a scotch.’ Andrew folded his arms and frowned before replying ‘I’m not a waiter and besides I have no idea who this woman is... Jean why do you persist on letting random strangers waltz into my home?’ Jean replied: ‘All I’m hearing is a constant droning sound; which would be fine if I had a scotch in my hand.’ Andrew sighed and went off into the kitchen. Jean patted Maria’s knee ‘why don’t you take your coat off, make yourself at home.’ ‘Thank you, but this is just a flying visit, I only came to speak to Peter, d’you know where he is?’ Jean was completely oblivious to what Maria was asking her, instead focussing her attention on the television. ‘This government don’t know what they are doing, they think that what his name, you know the man with the suitcase; ohhhh George somebody, can woo us old uns with the pension reforms and we’ll all dance to his tune, well I won’t be fooled, I like that guy who looks like Wallace.’ Maria muttered, ‘you’ll probably be dead before the next General Election.’ ‘What was that dear?’Jean asked. ‘Oh I’m just admiring that glass vase; it really blends in with the wallpaper.’ ‘Ah yes, it is lovely isn’t it, my grandson Peter bought it me from Barcelona.’ Speaking of Peter.....

   Before Maria could ascertain where Peter was, the purpose of her three hour drive, Andrew returned with the scotches. ‘Ok, can I now ask what you’re doing here?’ ‘I...’ Jean interjects: ‘Andrew, can you be a darling and fetch me my neck brace, my necks awfully tender.’ ‘Fine, but I think me and this young lady need a chat when I return.’ Jean consumed the scotch in one go, before turning towards Maria and asking quizzically ‘you haven’t touched yours yet.’ Maria, perhaps for the second time in the last ten years smiled once again ‘help yourself; I’m more of a Vodka person myself.’ Once again Jean drank the scotch in one go.

  Andrew returns with the neck brace, before sitting in an easy chair directly opposite Maria, as if he was conducting a formal interview. ‘So, what are you doing here?’ ‘I’m looking for....’ Once again Jean interrupts, and Maria imagines clobbering the old hag with that hideous vase, she decides against it not for moral purposes, just because there would be witnesses. ‘I really fancy a crumpet right now... but we don’t have any, Andrew be a dear and go and get some. Andrew sighed ‘I’m not your servant, plus I haven’t established who this god damn woman is in my house!’ Maria, surveyed the room before standing up and saying ‘I’ll go and fetch the crumpets, where is the nearest supermarket?’ Andrew then stood up: ‘no you won’t I want you to remain right here so I can find out what you are doing here; I’ll go.’

  As Andrew leaves, Jean’s complexion changes rapidly. ‘I know who you are and what you are, Maria.’ ‘Glad we got the pleasantries out of the way Jean, I was worried you were losing the plot.’ ‘Didn’t we speak on the phone, yesterday for an hour, I told you where Peter was, so what are you doing here?’ ‘Because you gave me the wrong information, I went to that apartment and Peter wasn’t there; so I’ll put this to you in simple terms you old bitch, where the effing hell is your yellow belly coward of a grandson.’

   The lounge door swings open ‘Maria it’s been a while.’