Chapter 4 Face-off

"Becka! Becka!", Becka heard someone calling her from her sleep. She opened her eyes. It was Rita standing beside Sandra's crib. Becka also heard her baby's cries. "Becka, what kind of fuckin' sleep were you sleeping? Sandra has been crying for the past fifteen minutes." Rita said, looking sleepy in her lilac coloured nightdress. Fifteen minutes?, Becka asked herself. She wiped her eyes with her sweaty palm. "Oh, I'm sorry, Rita", she said as she carried Sandra from the crib.

"You don't have to sleep too much now that you're...a mother now", Rita said to Becka, who sat on the edge of the bed and was feeding the baby. Becka glanced at the clock: 2am. She felt somewhat dizzy. She remembered she'd drank a large amount of alcoholic wine the previous evening. She didn't like the aftermath of alcohol- she knew she had formed an addiction, but she hated how she felt dizzy. "I'm going back to bed now, Becka. Please don't let your baby cry again. You know how I am disturbed by noise at night." Rita said, rising from the bed. "Alright. Good night, Rita."Becka said with a friendly smile. Rita waved faintly and left the room. Becka put Sandra into the crib and sat up on her bed. She didn't feel like sleeping anymore. She got up from the bed, walked up to the window and unlatched it. She looked up at the moon. The air was so cool, so Becka found herself leaning on the window for more breeze. Her baby made a little sound, and she reasoned that Sandra might not like the breeze, so she closed the window. She went to the sitting room. She felt like watching T.V, but she knew Harry would be furious with her. She went to the kitchen. She found a bottle of whiskey on the kitchen table. She stood for sometime and deliberated on whether to take it or not. She was still feeling fuzzy as a result of the drink she had taken the night before, but she felt like having some more whiskey and took a shot. She leaned on the kitchen table and savoured the taste. She headed for the fridge, took some ice blocks and threw them into the glass. Then, she reached for lasagna and salad, scooped them into a plate and sat at the dining table to enjoy the meal.

Becka returned to her room at three o'clock. She was feeling dizzy again and wanted to have some rest before daybreak. She slipped under the covers and dozed off to sleep. She awakened at six o'clock. She yawned and stretched. She looked into the crib. Her baby was still asleep. She crept out of bed, went to take her bath and headed for the sitting room. She was surprised to meet Rita on a sofa watching T.V. "Is breakfast ready, Rita?", she asked, raking her hand through her hand through her hair. "Nope" Rita answered, not even looking at Becka. "Why?" Becka wanted to know. Breakfast was always ready by six every morning; like it or not. "Well, it's too early for breakfast on a Saturday. And I don't feel like.", Rita replied, using the remote control to flick through the channels. Saturday!, Becka hissed. Rita was usually in a kind of nasty mood on Saturdays, and she often preferred to prepare breakfast at no time less than ten o'clock. Four hours more!, Becka fumed. "There's a lot to do, Becka. You've got to do the washing, there's a huge pile of clothes to be washed. The rug needs vacuum cleaning, and the tiles have to be mopped. You need to wash the utensil and the plates and-" Rita was still talking when Becka interrupted. " I ain't doing anything!!" she snapped furiously. Rita looked at her as if with new eyes. "Oh, I see. You've really grown wings as big as that of an albatross. You fuckin', stinking girl has the guts in the world to stand there and tell me that you ain't doing housework? Is it because you think you've got a baby, so you can tell me what you wish to do or not? You're so stupid, so stupid, for thinking I'll be so foolish to let you sleaze around the house doing nothing?", Rita was visibly angry. Becka was furious moreso. "Fuck your bloody ass, Rita!", she screamed. Rita came to her and slapped her across the face. She looked Becka in the eye. "Now, look at me. Listen to me, you're not permitted to do anything in this house without my consent!" Rita spat out angrily. "And what would happen if I do?" Becka dared. "I'll have you kicked back to your home! Ass hole!", Rita answered and said a string of foul words. Becka wept."I hate you!". She fired back at stern looking Rita and headed for the room, cursing Rita.