The goon of fortune became a game of fancy coat swapping. No rotating clothing line here, just expensive pelage to pick from. Exciting was the word used by my parents, draining and frightening was the word used by my sister and me. Theft was exhilarating for them and mum was a frequent sinner. It filled us with shame and embarrassment.
We sat there at the table waiting for our sorbet to arrive when mum circled around the coats like a vulture picking its next pray. Dead animals were on offer here too, mostly in the form of pelts. Mum often entered a posh restaurant in a rain jacket and later on walked out wearing an extravagant fur coat. Her coat stands, draped with fox, rabbit, and mink’s tail, created a fur tapestry effect to elevate the ambience of her bedroom. She helped herself in the vestiaire of the posh restaurant where my dad brought us to cheer her up. She was bored with her life and wanted a thrill similar to the one she used to feel with sport and competing.
No booze bottles on shelves here to be picked as the next victim, just coats on hooks waiting to be added to the ridiculous number of outer garments she dragged back home into her expensive wardrobe. Looking at her walking down the street, you would have thought that she was a classy rich middle-aged lady. Louis Vuitton, Prada, Dolce & Gabbana, Versace and Gucci creations saturated her closet to the point of collapse.
Nabbed stealing on unfortunate occasions, the police slowly built up her file which quickly became the size of a novel. Her hellish existence had provoked a string of run-ins with the law in and out of her car.
We always had to watch out for her every move and I developed a resentful relationship with such nights out. Restless nights started from that day on. I had to hide my wallet under the pillows to preserve my pocket money. She would steal from us if she needed cash to buy booze. I prayed daily for a night of uninterrupted sleep and exotic dreams. Jewellery, gadgets or any other easy to carry household valuables that were not safely locked away or chipped with a safety device would land in her large handbag. Going out shopping was a nerve-racking experience. It had been most upsetting to her parents in their quest to stop her.
They watched her visibly change before their eyes from a bubbly, healthy and athletic daughter who had always had her act together, to a thin, daggy and scruffy recluse with a baffled demeanour who buries her head in low self-esteem. She concealed her glassy bloodshot eyes with the expensive sunglasses she had stolen in town.
