Page 19 - Julie Thorley Nine Lives book

3. The Tireless Mother
This monologue was inspired by a painting in The Barber Institute of Fine Arts, University of Birmingham. ‘Paternal Love’ by Etienne Aubry was rst exhibited in 1775.
I like to come up here whenever I can get away. It’s worth the scramble to the summit, even on those chilly days when the wind tries to blow me backwards. Here in the hollow there is some shelter and I simply sit and listen. Can you hear it: the silence? Sometimes it’s so loud I can feel it wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. You might think this a desolate place; I enjoy the solitude. Just for a moment there’s no one in the world but me.
I love my boys, of course, but sometimes I need to get away to make sure that I still exist. I walk up the hill and I
sit and I breathe. I tell them I’m off to the market; and if they wonder why I’m so long, I say someone detained me with news of a shared friend, or that I had to scour the stalls for the very particular item I needed. I can always nd a story.
As I made my escape today, I passed my sister walking out with my nieces. They made a pretty picture. Still, I can’t imagine having to do all those girly things: the dancing and twirling, the hair, the softness. I said as much to her, but she laughed. ‘You’re envious,’ she said. ‘You wish you could have a touch more femininity in your home, someone who understands why it’s important to have a pretty ribbon in your hair on high days and holidays, and perhaps a pleasing shawl to keep out the chill of an evening.’
I disputed this, of course. I said it was more important to have a 15