Your mother.
Ms Penny Edwards-Knight.
She demanded attention.
She demanded.
And for hours before she telephoned, you would practise your backwards language.
You spoke every word to her backwards.
Not forwards.
The language that she demanded you communicate in.
~Do you still use it?~
For the hours leading up to the designated phone call time, you'd refuse to speak to me.
The hours were for you to rehearse, to perfect your backward mother tongue.
And every first Sunday of the month.
Between the hours of one and three.
Your mother expected a long and thorough telephone conversation highlighting the key points of the previous month.
In backward tongue.
You made notes.
Of course you made notes.
~Didn't you realise that I knew about your scribbled points to include in a conversation?~
Theme.
Rheme.
Theme.
Rheme.
You made meticulous notes in the black notebook.
Your little black book.
She bought you a new one each Christmas.
[sound: a throaty laugh]
[silence]
And each Christmas you wrapped the filled notebook of notes.
For her.
Tied it with a red shiny bow.
For her.
[silence]
ruoy rehtom.
ehS dednamed noitnetta.
ehS dednamed.
dnA rof sruoh erofeb ehs denohpelet uoy dluow esitcarp ruoy sdrawkcab egaugnal.
ehT egaugnal taht ehs dednamed uoy etacinummoc ni.
~Do you still use it?~
roF eht sruoh gnidael pu ot eht detangised enohp llac emit, d'uoy esufer ot kaeps ot em.
ehT sruoh erew rof uoy ot esraeher, ot tcefrep ruoy drawkcab rehtom eugnot.
dnA yreve tsrif yadnuS fo eht htnom.
neewteB eht sruoh fo eno dna eerht.
ruoY rehtom detcepxe a gnol dna hguoroht enohpelet noitasrevnoc gnithgilhgih eht yek stniop fo eht suoiverp htnom.
nI drawkcab eugnot.
uoY edam seton.
fO esruoc uoy edam seton.
~Didn't you realise that I knew about your scribbled points to include in a conversation?~
uoY edam suolucitem seton ni eht kcalb koobeton.
ruoY elttil kcalb koob.
ehS thguob uoy a wen eno hcae samtsirhC.
dnA hcae samtsirhC uoy depparw eht dellif koobeton fo seton.
roF reh.
~So where does she step in?~
Step in.
~Is that dramatic enough?~
It was more like a leap with both feet flying into my stomach.
[sound: distant rumbling of low flying aeroplane]
[sound: banging]
It was almost four weeks after you told me to have an abortion.
[voiced: abortion]
[volume: low]
The story goes that your mother was visiting Newcastle.
Because you weren't from Newcastle.
You were born in a house in a village.
In a village called Mortney.
A village lost in between Liverpool and Chester.
A village where people spoke in money.
[voiced: sings money money money]
[volume: high]
And your community clung to a village hall that was thatched in gold.
And a church, where the preacher was at least one hundred and seven.
Your neighbours fasted for twenty-four hours before communion.
And the preacher spoke in repeated riddles.
Chastising those who orgasm outside of marriage.
I know because he baptised Pip.
~Do you remember?~
He talked of whores and entrapment whilst splashing water on Pip's head.
I still quiver.
[sound: splashing water]
Backwards forwards sideways memory.
~Where are my tablets?~
~Where are my tablets?~
[sound: high-pitched scream]
[silence]
The story goes that your mother was in Newcastle.
Your mother had been giving one of her seminars and she had expected you to meet her for dinner.
It had been a definite date that had been made on the first Sunday of that month.
Of April.
After the pregnancy test.
