Authors: Jane Casey
Dad shrugged. He was smirking as he put his knife and fork together in the middle of the plate, having made a little well in the food. I looked at Mum, who was completely silent, her eyes cast down, as if she was pretending she wasn’t even there. I usually avoided confrontations with Dad but I couldn’t stand to see him walk all over the Leonards unchallenged.
“Mum, aren’t you going to say something?”
She looked up, dazed. “What?”
“Let’s see. Something about how Dad is a guest in this house and should be more grateful would work.”
“He doesn’t listen to me,” she said simply.
“That’s not true, Molly. Of course I do.” His voice was soft. It raised the hair on the back of my neck.
Don’t fall for it, Mum
.
I wanted his attention anywhere but on Mum. “Seriously, Dad. You can’t be so horrible. You invited yourself to stay here and you’re acting as if everyone should be grateful.”
“Tilly and I understand one another. She’s never been keen on me. She tried to tell your mother to dump me. And if she’d done that, you wouldn’t even exist. So whose side do you want to be on?”
“Sorry, you’re not going to win an argument with the whole ‘I gave you life’ angle. Your contribution was pretty minimal.”
“But important,” Dad said, his eyes bright with pleasure. What could be better than a jolly old argument? He loved the drama.
I turned to Tilly. “I forgive you for not wanting me to be born, Tilly.”
“It wasn’t like that,” she said, distressed.
“I know.” To Dad, I said, “I don’t even have to think about which side to pick. You’re on your own. Which, if I remember correctly, is what you wanted when you walked out on us—to be on your own again, without any boring responsibilities. I’ve never been sure how the hundreds of much younger girlfriends fitted into that scenario. Feel free to explain.”
“
Pas devant les enfants
,” Dad said, looking down the table to where Tom and Petra sat, saucer-eyed. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”
“I understand now, and I think it’s disgusting.”
“You can’t possibly.” He leaned back and folded his arms. “Molly and I loved one another but our relationship was complicated. We needed some time apart.”
“
You
did, you mean.”
“I needed some time to work out how I felt about things.”
“And now you have, is that it? Is that why you’re here?” I was actually shaking I was so angry.
Dad was about to answer me when he looked up. “Who’s this? Another of your brood, Tilly?”
Will was closing the back door quietly. He glanced at Dad. “I’m just a neighbor.”
Tilly stood up, looking relieved to have something to do. “Come and sit down. I laid you a place.”
She had; his usual place, which Ella had taken. Will had already started toward it when he noticed. He grinned at her. “Cuckoo.”
“I can move,” she offered.
“No need.”
Ella’s abandoned chair was beside me. “You can sit here,” I said.
“Thanks.” He didn’t even look at me. This meal was getting better and better. He sat down, his shoulder brushing mine. I sat very still, wanting to move closer to him, while at the same time wanting to run away. Tilly put a loaded plate in front of him.
“I hope it’s all right.”
“Bound to be.” He ate as if he’d last seen food months ago. It took him a minute to realize everyone was watching him. “This is lovely, Tilly. Hope you made enough for seconds.”
Tilly beamed at him. “Of course I did.”
“As long as there’s some left for us.” Hugo picked up Ella’s plate and his own and headed to the cooker, whistling thinly. Neither of them had come near to finishing their food, but I got it. There was a principle at stake.
Dad was watching Will with a curious expression on his face. “What did you say your name was?”
“Will.”
“No surname? Just Will?”
“It’ll do,” Will said, having swallowed his mouthful of food. “And I didn’t catch yours.”
“Christopher Tennant. I’m Jessica’s father.”
“Sperm donor,” I said under my breath. The corner of Will’s mouth lifted, so I knew he’d heard, but he didn’t miss a beat.
“Pleased to meet you, Christopher. What brings you to Port Sentinel?”
“Visiting old friends.” Dad was staring and I thought he’d worked out who Will was. But he said, “What happened to you? You look as if you’ve been in the wars.”
Tilly leaned out to look at Will’s face and exclaimed in horror.
“It’s nothing. It looks worse than it is.” Will stood up. “Did you leave any food, Hugo?”
“A bit.”
“I should never get here late.” Will shook his head sadly as he went to get seconds.
“There’s apple pie for afterward,” Tilly said. With a look at Dad, she added, “I picked the fruit from our apple trees.”
“Brilliant.” Tom hopped up and down on his chair. “Can I have some now?”
“Wait until everyone else is finished,” Petra said, disapproving of her little brother as usual. For a moment it felt like an ordinary Sandhayes dinner, but of course that couldn’t last, because it didn’t take Dad long to find a new target.
“You’re very quiet, Molly.”
“Just tired.”
“Why are you tired? You don’t do anything all day.”
“I work,” she said, stung.
“In the gallery?” He laughed. “I’ve never seen such a collection of dross in my life. I can’t imagine your pretty-boy boss ever sells anything. Why he needs you to assist him, I can’t imagine. Well, I can, but…”
“What are you implying?” Mum looked furious. “Say it.”
“You’re just part of the décor. Something nice to look at while people are browsing. That’s not a real job.”
“Mum’s job is so much more than that,” I said. “And Nick gives Mum time off to take pictures. He sells them in the gallery.”
“Like I said, dross. He obviously has no taste.”
“Molly’s a great photographer.” Will had finished the second plateful in record time. He looked down the table at Mum and gave her a smile that you would have wanted to keep, somehow, so you could take it out and look at it again when you needed to. “I’ve got one of her pictures in my locker at school.”
Mum took a deep breath, then smiled. “Thank you, Will. But Christopher is never going to admit that I have any talent. He never encouraged me when we were together. It was all about him and his career, not mine.”
Dad laughed. “You don’t have a career. You just point your camera at something and click. Call it art if you want, but you and I know it’s amateurish rubbish.”
“You haven’t even seen Mum’s portfolio,” I said. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Anyway,” Tilly said, “what makes you the person who decides what’s good art and what isn’t? Money is all you care about.”
“That’s my job!” Dad snapped. “I’ve got other interests. I’m going to have more time for them now. Everything is going to change. There are going to be a lot of changes, one way or another.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Tilly said flatly. She handed Petra and Tom bowls of apple pie and ice cream. “Take them away. Go on. You can watch television.”
They ran, balancing the bowls carefully. Hugo looked at Ella. “I don’t want any apple pie.”
“Me neither.”
“Can we leave the table?” Hugo asked his mother.
“Absolutely.”
The two of them were gone before Tilly had finished the word, and I saw Hugo catch hold of Ella’s hand as the kitchen door closed behind them.
“I’d like some, please, Tilly.” Will sounded completely unperturbed. He was probably used to searing tension.
She handed him a bowl. “Don’t feel you have to stay at the table.”
“This will do fine.”
Dad looked at Will with dislike. “Don’t you have somewhere better to be?”
“Nope.” Will carried on eating. He was completely serene. It surprised me how glad I was that he was staying beside me, a solid and somehow reassuring presence, even though he hadn’t said a word to me.
“What are you doing here, Christopher?” Mum sounded tired, but also defiant. “What do you want?”
“I’m not going to talk to you about it here. Not now.” He looked around. “Somewhere a bit more private would be better.”
“I just want to know. And whatever it is, Jess and Tilly will hear about it anyway. So you might as well say it now.”
Dad pushed his plate away so he could lean his arms on the table. “It’s very simple. I came here because I want you and Jessica to come back. I want you to be my administrator. Help me build my new business into a success.”
Mum shook her head, looking dazed. “After everything … now you want me to come back.”
“I miss you.”
“You miss me.”
“That’s what I said.” There was an edge of irritation in his voice.
“So this isn’t about you getting an employee who you don’t have to pay properly?” I asked.
“Of course not.”
“What would you pay her? Would you pay what Nick’s giving her for working in the gallery?”
“It’s none of your business, Jessica.”
“It is, actually. Because you’re trying to take her independence away again. You liked it when she depended on you and looked after the two of us and didn’t have time to do any of the things that mattered to her, like taking pictures. You want things to go back to how they were.”
Mum gave me a faint smile. “You said it better than I could, Jess.”
“Complete rubbish,” Dad snapped. “Can’t you see I’m trying to help you? Both of you. Molly, you’re living in a dream world. You’re wasting your time in a joke of a job. You think taking pictures is going to make your name, but what makes you better than anyone else? Why should anyone buy your photographs? You don’t have training. You don’t have a reputation. The people around you won’t tell you the truth in case it hurts your feelings. I’m not going to play that game. It isn’t fair to you to let you fool yourself.”
“Outrageous,” Tilly said, bristling. “Ignore him, Molly.”
I looked down the table at Mum, and saw that she had gone very still. She was staring into space. Dad had always known how to play on her fears. Everything he’d said was what she thought about herself and her work, and he knew it. During their marriage, she’d barely touched a camera. It would happen again, I knew, if she went back. She would give up hope.
Sensing his advantage, Dad carried on. “You know, I didn’t say anything when you told me you were coming here on holiday. I thought it was fair enough. Jessica needed to get to know your side of the family. But if I’d known you were planning to stay, I’d have made sure she didn’t go. I rescued you from this pathetic backwater. I can’t believe you’d drag Jessica back here without even thinking about her prospects. Her education too.”
“My new school is so much better than the one in London.” I was really angry now. “Moving here was the best thing that could have happened to me.”
“Jessica, you can’t hope to achieve anything if you stay down here. You’ll never get into a decent university. Look at what happened to your mother and aunt. They haven’t a qualification between them.”
“I’d be completely happy if I turned out like either of them,” I said defiantly.
“You’re too clever for that. Being pretty will only take you so far, as I think they have conclusively proved.”
“How I look has nothing to do with anything.”
You sexist idiot
. “What I do depends on me. If I want to go to a good university, I will. If I want to stay here and paint pictures, I’ll do that.” Leaving aside the fact that I couldn’t begin to draw a straight line. The arty side of things had missed me out completely. I knew it would annoy him, though, to suggest it. “Being in London won’t make any difference to me. Except that I’ll miss being here.”
“Don’t you miss it at all? Our old life?” Dad’s eyes were fixed on mine. “Doesn’t it mean anything to you?”
“It used to.”
“Until I ruined it?”
“You said it.”
“What if I want to fix it?”
“You can’t just fix things because you want to. Sometimes things are broken and it’s better they stay that way.” As I said it I realized how it would sound to Will. He had been tapping his foot under the table, but now it was still.
“Your mother has you where she wants you, doesn’t she?” Dad sounded bitter. “I can understand her wanting to stay down here. She wants to be with her old boyfriend. The policeman.” He sneered the word and I felt Will react, but he didn’t interrupt. “It’s what she’s always wanted.”
“That’s not true,” Mum said faintly.
“She’s not thinking about you, Jessica. She hasn’t got your best interests at heart.”
“That’s not true, either,” I said. “And there’s nothing going on between them.”
“You saw him today. He went for me. Why would he do that unless he still has feelings for her?”
Will looked at me. “My dad hit your dad?”
“Unfortunately not,” I said. “They just did a lot of shouting.”
“OK.” Will nodded. “Just wanted to be clear.”
“That’s why you look familiar.” Dad was catching on at last. “You’re his boy.”
“Undeniably, more’s the pity.” Will stretched. “You know, there’s one possibility you haven’t considered. Maybe he had a go at you because you’re a pain in the—”
“Will!” Tilly said, just in time. “No!”
“You were all thinking it. I don’t mind saying it.”
“He’s not,” I said. “You don’t know him.”
Dad smiled at me triumphantly. “Good girl, Jessica.”
“He’s much worse,” I said. “He’s a bully. A selfish bully. He manipulates everyone around him and he never apologizes for anything.”
Will grinned at Dad, whose face had darkened. Mum had one hand to her mouth. She looked distraught.
“Mum, don’t even think about going back to him.” I turned to Dad. “Don’t expect me to come back, either, because it’s not going to happen. We have a new life now and it makes us both happy.”
“Really? Because you don’t look happy, Jessica.”
“I’m fine.”
“I doubt that. All you’ve done since you got here is get into trouble and run around with boys.” Dad’s eyes went to Will, then back to me. “You’re more like your mother than I thought. And frankly, I find that disappointing.”
“You just can’t stand losing,” I said.
Disappointing
. No matter how much I told myself not to mind, the word stung.