CHAPTER 04 

“Mum, mum look” Ezra chirped, holding up his report card. 

“I’m so proud of you Eleanor” Anjali gleamed, hugging her daughter, completely ignoring her 13 year old son. 

“Thank you mum” Eleanr returned the affection. 

“Let’s go out and celebrate tonight. We can have pizza at Enzo’s” Anjali squealed, excitedly embracing Eleanor. 

“Um! I’m here too you know. Listen to me” Ezra burst, his doll-like face, now red, glittering with glass beads of tears. “Why don’t you see me? I’m here too. Why don’t you ever listen to me?” .

“Ezra…” both mother and daughter stood in awe, amazed at the 13 year old’s outburst. 

It didn’t take too long for anyone to realise that Anjali favoured Eleanor. Anjali had lost Erik, and Eleanor was the closest she could ever get to being with Erik. Her heart still lay, beating alive, beside Erik’s body deep underneath the earth, for Anjali stubbornly refused to move on from her chocolate-box romance, her first love. And she died. She died along with her lover that unforgiving winter. And just as she had died, she was reborn, knowing she held a golden light inside her womb, her Eleanor. It was no surprise she loved the girl, desiring for Eleanor to have the very best life, the life Anjali had been stripped off of. Anjali favoured her daughter.

Ezra felt it. He had grown to understand his mother, and he accepted the fact that she missed Erik, from the way she’d talk about him. Ezra understood the pain his mother felt, and he adapted to her ways. Not wanting to disrupt the flow and come in between Anjali and Eleanor, he’d stay quiet, watching them through a frame he wasn’t a part of. It did deeply upset the 13 year old, but Ezra was selfless. He didn’t wish to speak up and hurt Anjali, for he loved her unconditionally. But today, the boy had lost his composure, he had addressed the truth, and he regretted it, once he saw the pained look in Anjali’s brown eyes. 

“I’m sorry mum” Ezra apologized, attempting to ease his mother, he hugged her. “I didn’t mean that, I was just being silly.” 

“That’s alright Ezzie” Anjali hugged back, swallowing the sourness of her guilt. She was aware that she loved Eleanor much more than she did Ezra. She knew. Although her guilt stalked her day and night, she’d never admit to it. Anjali hid behind her grey curtain of shame, like an embarrassed child, allowing Ezra to parent her. And he did. 

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“Bloody bastard” Pandora released under her breath, biting down on her lips as she tossed away a crumpled tissue onto the painted olive-green table. She leaned into the tall garnet-red armchair, her spine crafting the shape of the slope of the chair, as her empty icy-blue eyes lost themselves amongst the streets of London. Pandora had agreed to Clifford’s term to have the draft of her next novel ready for his viewing in thirteen days. Although Eleanor had struck up a fire inside Pandora’s barren heart, curing her writer’s block, the 27 year old author didn’t have any ideas of a thrilling plot and eye-catching characters. She had wanted to get to know the 17 year old, in hopes of gaining inspiration for an intense plot to write about. 

Eleanor had turned down Pandora’s offer to meet up, and it had deeply upset the adult. She’d rather spend time with her mother?, Pandora scoffed, with disbelief. She was deeply offended by the thought of her fan rejecting her, so she drove over that thought again and again, her jaw tightening. Pandora couldn’t accept the fact that the girl who admired her had chosen to spend time with her mother, rather than with her.  Fool. What an absolute fool. Oh who am I kidding, all children are fools, her anger churned up inside of her, melting together with the hatred she had for her father, along with her self pity. Eleanor, you fool. How could you possibly choose to be with your mother over me? Why?, swiftly combing her bone-like fingers through her hair, she sat up straight adjusting the thin straps of her dove-grey dress. Sighing, Do children actually enjoy spending time with their parents?  Pandora gulped the piping-hot espresso, her mind wandering off to Clifford. “Ugh, how atrocious” Pandora spat out, shaking off the nauseousness she felt after thinking of him. 

Why would you choose her over me? What could I possibly lack?, she huffed, crossing her legs beneath the table, Pandora rearranged her ankle-length grey slip on dress. She needed to meet Eleanor today. She chugged down her eighth espresso shot, throwing back her head, her unbrushed caramel-brown hair fell over her shoulders, curtaining her oval-shaped face. Running her fingers through her hair once again, she exhaled, her chest heaving down, as she tucked in a bill into the little elf-shaped tip jar on the table at the coffee shop. Collecting her brown paper bag of croissants, she exited the cafe. 

Pandora carried an immense amount of disgust for herself. And she was only attracted to Eleanor, because the teenager had what Pandora didn’t. Eleanor had a mother. And Pandora didn’t. Her egotistical mind would never allow her to take in the truth that she was jealous of Eleanor. Pandora Warren was jealous that Eleanor had a mother to go home to, a mother to cry to, and a mother who’d hug her. Her spite bit at her each living second, whipping together with the bitterness of her childhood, that she’d hidden in the pits of her mind. Why can’t I be happy? Pandora shuddered, wandering across the streets of London aimlessly, Why can’t I ever be happy?

Distracted by the thick tar of self pity, her splintered and chipped heart soaked it all up, like a soiled sponge. Pandora stood at the edge of the pavement, waiting for the walking sign to shine green. I’m young, rich and pretty, she thought, but why am I not happy? Why? Why am I never happy? She forced back her dry hair that blew wildly in the frosty winds of London. Why do I feel so empty? What am I missing in my life? Pandora pondered over, driving past her thoughts in repeating circles. Taking in a quick bag of air, Pandora noticed the car bull-running towards her. Huh, a car. I should moveI. Like a lifeless mannequin, her feet were fixed to the ground. It wasn’t that she couldn’t move. Pandora just didn’t want to, Oh would it be so bad if I didn’t? Her mouth stained with poignant pity, she refused to get herself out of the way, from the blaring red Ford racing towards her. How funny. 

Oh how funny. Pandora had been pulled to the sidewalk. Slender arms cradled her, and Pandora could feel the broad muscles of the chest beneath her puff up and heave back down. Hoisting herself off of the man that had pulled her to the pavement, Pandora shifted her glare towards him, feeling a rush of rage take over her. 

“Alex”, she gasped. Alexander Uragirimono had saved her. Her eyes softened as she identified the face of the man who had fished her out of the main-road. Alexander Uragirimono stood in front of her, concern shadowing his face. Pandora’s sweet Alexander Uragirimono had walked right back into her life. Or rather pulled her into his. 

She had been homeschooled by various tutors, her whole life, up until university. She hadn’t had the luxury of experiencing a normal day in school. She was kept hidden away, like a starving book collecting dust on a broken shelf, in the old Warren mansion. And she’d only ever interacted with the maids, house workers and Clifford. Pandora had been abandoned from the very start, not having anyone to care for her, she didn’t care for anyone either, for her heart was a barren land. 

Alexander Uragirimono had moved to Broxburn at the age of 3. Flying across the world from Japan to England, his parents chose to lead their business and live in England. Gifting him an English first name, Alexander Uragirimono was the only son of the Uragirimono Technology Firm. It was carved in his destiny, to take over the business, fitting himself into the mark of his father. The boy had met Pandora the day she’d witnessed the brutal suicide of her biological mother. She’d run off to the lake behind the mansion, where Alex had been weeping. A wailing little boy, painted flower-y shades of red and purple across his frail arms, by his father. She felt pity towards him, and he did too. Covered in a thick coat of tears and abuse, they found comfort knowing that they weren’t alone. They were both caged birds, singing together, no longer alone. Their voices merged into an uplifting chorus that freed the children. 

Alexander loved her. His little-boy-heart was drenched in pure, innocent love for the colourless bird. And as unbelievable as it seemed, she did too. 

“Alex” the name slipped out with such ease. His name slithered out delicately, along with a soft breath of disbelief. It was so very effortless for his name to roll right off of her tongue. Warm-shaded reels of memories cast a yellow beam within Pandora. 

“It’s you” She managed out, her voice a bit louder than a bare whisper. 

“Hi Dora, are you alright?” Alexander’s lips curled into a thin tail, “What were you doing?”. Alexander snaked his long arms around her, “I’ve missed you so much Dora.”.

Her pulse rang shrills and sirens, not returning his physical gesture, she pushed him off gently. 

“Dora are you alright? What were you thinking…” Alexander interrogated her, sharp jolts of sorrow hitting his heart thinking of her standing there stiff.

“When…when did you get back?” Pandora bit her bottom lip, tightening her grip on his white shirt, “you left me”.

“Dora I, I didn’t have a choice.” Alex defended thinking back to that very horrible day, on his 15th birthday. Alexander’s father had hunted through his room, and found a sketch he’d done one night of Pandora. His father ripped it apart, the chauvinistic man’s fury burning it. He threw away the shredded scraps of the drawing along with his very own son, to Japan.  

“Don’t bother.” Pandora’s jaw tightened as she shook away the memories of her first love. 

“I never meant to, Dora. You need to understand” Alex tugged on her sleeve, holding her in place not allowing her to leave him. “I’m here now, Dora. I’m back for good. I won’t leave you again” 

That was all it took. Just five words was all that was required to shut the raging storm inside of her. Pandora tasted his words,  I won’t leave you again , a sugar promise that she longed to hold on too. 

“Alex” Pandora buried her head on his chest, listening to the soft shivering beats of his heart. You are what I’ve been lacking, Alex. You are what I’ve been missing all along,  Pandora believed, gripping onto the back of his shirt. 

My whaling boy. 

By Kisavi Jayawardana.