VI. Pride

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"I do not care so much what I am to others as I care what I am to myself." Michel de Montaigne

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VI. Pride

Sophie hadn't always lived as she did. There was once a time when she really had not understood the value of money.

She had grown up in a posh London neighbourhood, had attended one of the best private girls' schools in the city, and had been set up for great success by her obscenely wealthy parents.

While they had not been at all receptive to the idea of Sophie studying for a degree in musical theatre, they could still brag to their friends that Sophie had been accepted into the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art.

Of course, Sophie had only been there three months before she had found out that she was pregnant with Maddie, and her parents promptly had informed her that she was no longer welcome in their house if the situation was not quietly handled.

And so, Sophie had not spoken to them in eight and a half years, and for the first time since their last conversation, Sophie found herself standing outside of their Kensington townhouse.

She stared up at her childhood home in awe, wondering if it had always been so grand. Either way, it was home to two of the grandest, most pretentious people to ever walk to earth.

She could remember her mum, Susan Cartwright, screaming at her, telling her she was too stupid and too irresponsible to properly care for a child. Her father, investment banker, Paul Cartwright, had promptly threatened to cut her off completely.

As soon as she had left this house, he had followed through on his threat, with all her bank accounts emptied and cancelled.

Sophie had promised herself that she would never return to this house, especially to ask for money. She would rather drink toilet bleach then let them be right about her.

But Sophie knew that was selfish, and that Maddie's needs were more important that her pride.

The minute she had left the meeting at Maddie's school, she had phoned the child psychologist that had been recommended to her. If Maddie was autistic, as scary as that word was, Sophie wanted her diagnosed and put in whatever programs were necessary to help her to be where she needed to be.

Life should not be hard at Maddie's age, and Sophie needed to do whatever she could, even if that meant making her own life harder.

But that conviction went out the door when she was informed that without health insurance, the psychologist fees would be no less than eighty pounds and hour.

Sophie didn't have ten pounds spare at the end of the month, let alone eighty pounds a week for a psychologist.

It was this mindset that had almost put her into an emotional trance and had taken her off the tube at what once was her normal stop.

She needed to swallow her pride, and she needed to speak to her parents, no matter how hard it would be.

Sophie opened the gate, and approached the white front door, only made more intimidating by the brass door knocker in the shape of a lion's head. Sophie climbed the stone steps and took the door knocker in her hand, knocking twice. She could hear the sound echo within the two-storey foyer of the house.

A minute or so later, the door was opened, and Sophie was met by the face of her mother.

Susan Cartwright was every bit the proud society wife. Her life was dedicated to supporting her husband's career by throwing parties and schmoozing the wives of other rich men over ten o-clock in the morning champagne cocktails at the country club.

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