APRIL 17, 2008
“ 20 minutes to the departure,” my husband checked the information board: “ What about a cup of coffee?”
I smiled at him: “ You don’t drink coffee.”
Mat pushed in between us and laughed: “ That’s good idea, I will have a milkshake.”
“ You always wants something, you little brat,” my twenty years old daughter stroke his hair and turned to me before moving to the nearby ‘ Jamaican Blue’: “ You want something Mum, I think I get latte.”
I shook my head and Mat followed her immediately.
“ Come on, Jake,” I turned to my seventeen old son who stood nearby with a bored expression on his face.
“ Are you ready?” My husband got hold of my hand when we sat around the empty table.
“ I ordered a ‘takeaway’ in case I don’t finish,” Basha rushed back to the table: “ And asked them to hurry.”
“ I will,” shouted Mat gulping his huge chocolate milkshake.
“ You and your latte,” Jake looked up Basha annoyingly: “ You can’t take it with you anyway.”
Basha stopped drinking and glared at him: “ What’s your problem, at least I offered to go with Mum.”
“ What’s your problem?” Jake mimicked her voice and rolled his eyes: “ You can also take this little ‘nuisance’ with you because I am not going to look after him.”
Mat stopped drinking and shouted at Jake across the table: “ I’m not a nuisance, you are.”
I looked crossly at Jake and he rolled his eyes again: “ Of course you are not, Mat and I know, Mum, it’s only one week and Dad has to work on a farm, but I have to also study.”
“ Just checking some minerals on computer,” Basha grimaced at him: “ You should see my volumes of Law…”
Jake waved his hand: “ Who wants to stay at UNI for six years reading that.”
“ At least I will be someone.”
Jake laughed: “ I will earn in mines in one week what ‘teachers’,” he pointed at me and continued: “ earn here in one semester.”
“ Stop you two,” my husband said sharply and suddenly there was silence around the table.
“ I wonder who would teach you if everyone decides to go up North to work in mines, money are not everything, you know.” I smiled at them.
My husband turned back to me with a gentle smile and asked again: “ Are you ready?”
“ What are you talking about?” Mat enquired coming back
back from toilets.
“ Nothing concerning YOU,” Jake replied and slowly stood up: “ I think they start boarding, ready Mum?’
“ Ready as I can be,” I sighed in resignation: “ It was fifteen years ago when I left.”