Iris was remarkably patient, but everybody has their limits.
The group chat had been going crazy since Brian flippantly mentioned a family holiday to an island over Christmas lunch. The family had been assembled for the traditional gathering. Mavis, a small but minacious lady, sat at the end of the table, casting a watchful eye over the ensuing banquet being laid out on the table.
It had been a busy morning in the house. Despite needing to baste the ham and unwrap the puddings, Iris dutifully took her mother to the hairdresser. Like clockwork, she’d made the appointment that morning. Despite the inconvenient timing, she was unable to miss her weekly wash and set down. Iris reluctantly complied with her mother’s request, an easier option than seeing her woebegone and bleak.
“Are you sure that chicken is cooked enough? It doesn’t look cooked enough. You always under cook the chicken, Iris. It might need some more time in the oven, its still pink in the middle.” Iris tolerated her mother, but her hawk-like oversight of the meal rubbed her up the wrong way, surgically dissected and inspecting every morsel of the carefully prepared meal.
“Mum, it’s fine. If I cooked it any more, it would be dead twice.” Iris made short work of her champagne as she worked feverishly in the kitchen.
“I think it looks wonderful, Iris.” At the other end of the table was Rose, Brian’s mother. She took any opportunity to antagonise Mavis and revelled in her irritation. A wry little smile crossed her face as she made her way through her meal, pleased at the prickly response from her nemesis. Brian sensed the rising temperature in the room, picking up a bottle of chilled wine to soothe the simmering tension between the warring factions.
“Time out ladies. It’s Christmas time. No need to have the gloves on today.” He had a way of diffusing the situation between them, endearing himself to the respective matriarchs. There had been many fireworks over the years, but what he would say next would light a spark like no other.
“You know what would be a great idea? A family holiday. The four of us getting away and having some fun in the sun. Maybe you two could share a room.” The comment landed with a seismic impact.
Iris was flummoxed, her face etched with an expression akin to a porcelain mask cracked by a sudden blow. Her eyes widened, and the color drained from her vibrant cheeks, leaving behind a pale, ghostly hue. She took a large sip of her champagne, almost bypassing the glass and going straight for the bottle. If looks could kill, Brian would be a dead man walking.
“That sounds like an excellent idea, darling. Some time in the sun would be magnificent. I’m not getting any younger,” Rose replies as Iris pours another champagne.
“You’re probably not going to get much older.” Mavis mutters as she takes a sip of her wine, her comment falling on deaf ears.
“You can’t travel. Not at your age. I don’t think it’s a good idea.” His tone was meek, desperately trying to dig himself out of an ever-growing hole. Iris’s gaze was deadly, filled with rage and fury as she struggled to maintain her composure.
The seed, however, had been planted. Both ladies in a rare showing of unity, agreed that it would be a fantastic idea. The ensuing lunch was spent discussing the details. Brian’s pending doom was looming ever closer as Iris feigned pleasantries to keep the peace. As the evening progressed and the champagne continued to flow freely however, she came around to the idea. Iris began to contemplate a very different getaway, one of a more permanent nature.
As the golden sun cast its warm rays upon the pristine shores of the secluded tropical island, Iris stood on the powder-white sand, the crystal-clear turquoise waters beckoning her with their mysterious allure. The family were back at the resort, unaware of the fate that was about to befall them. She relished the silence and the solitude, a solitary figure on the picturesque beach.
Her heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and trepidation as she gazed out at the tranquil paradise that lay before her. A plan had been taking shape in her mind for months, one so sinister and devious that nobody would’ve ever expected it to come from her. With each gentle wave rhythmically lapping at the shore, Iris envisioned a life untethered from the burdens and constraints that had suffocated her for far too long.
The palm trees swayed in agreement, as if whispering their support for her audacious scheme. She had meticulously orchestrated every detail, from forged passports to secret accounts, leaving no stone unturned in her quest for liberation. Iris knew their disappearance had to be flawless, a vanishing act so complete that they would be forever erased from existence. The allure of a fresh start on this tropical haven proved irresistible, its remoteness providing the perfect stage for their grand exit. It was here that she would truly find the inner peace she so desperately sought.
Ambling along like the cat that got the cream with her mojito in hand, she turned away from the shimmering horizon. Her footsteps washed away as the waves gently lapped up to the shore. She took a sip and was ready to set her devilish plans into motion.
It was indeed the perfect getaway.
© T. Zerafa 2023
Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed my writing. If you haven’t read any of my other pieces, take a look through my blog and listen to my podcast ‘Flash Fiction in Five‘ on Spotify, iTunes and iHeartRadio. Please feel free to like, share, subscribe or comment below
Roads less travelled 
Leave a comment