Page 2 of Savage Redemption

Eva turned in his arms to kiss him back. “Nothing much gets past you, does it? Rosie has an idea she wants to discuss. Don’t you?”

Cornered, Rosie managed a cautious smile.

“Okay. Go on.” Her father levelled his dark-chocolate gaze on her. “What’s on your mind?”

“I…” She swallowed, then blurted it out. “I want to go on a gap year.”

“A gap year? You mean you fancy trekking round India saving elephants or building orphanages or something? Instead of getting a good university education? At my expense?”

“Not instead of university. And not India,” she replied.

“Right. What, then, exactly?”

“And it wouldn’t cost you that much,” she continued. “I have a bit saved up, and Eva said she’d help me out a bit.”

He levelled a look at his wife. “Oh, she did, did she? You two have been planning this for a while, have you?”

Eva met his gaze. “Not planning, exactly. Rosie mentioned the idea, so we talked.”

“Okay.” He focussed on his daughter once more. “If not elephants and orphanages, then what?”

“I want to busk,” Rosie blurted. “Not even abroad. I want to go to London, or maybe Edinburgh and earn my keep as a musician. Just like Eva used to do.”

“I don’t recall Eva ever mentioning a career in busking,” he replied.

“I could teach, too. Tutor children.”

“Ah, right.” Nathan had originally met Eva when he’d hired her through an agency to teach violin to his ten-year-old daughter. It had been one of his better decisions, but even so… “Princess, I don’t think that’s a great idea. Anything might happen to you.”

“I’d be with friends. A group of us are going.”

He shook his head. “Not happening. I’m sorry, sweetheart, but the answer’s no.”

“But Dad…”

He took her hand. “Listen, let’s make a deal. You take up that place at Stirling University and get your music degree. Stay on for a master’s, if you want. Once that’s done, and you’re a few years older, then you can do what you like, and I’ll happily fund you. Are we agreed?”

Rosie subsided into silence. Her father rarely refused her anything, but growing up she had learned to recognise the note of non-negotiable finality in his tone. Those occasions were rare, but this was one of them. Even the combined efforts of herselfand Eva wouldn’t shift him if he was certain he was right, and truth be told, she wasn’t that sure that Eva agreed it was a good plan either.

“Rosie?” her father prompted. “Agreed?”

“I suppose,” she conceded, banking down her disappointment. She had quite fancied the idea of just taking off as soon as school ended, but her determination had solidified when she’d learned that Jamie Phelps with his floppy blond hair, beautiful blue eyes, and wondrous way with a guitar was to join the intrepid group intent upon hitting the mean streets of London.

It wasn’t as though she thought herself in love with Jamie. Well, not especially. They’d never got beyond a few swift kisses on the way home from orchestra practise, mainly because cellist, Melanie Murgatroyd, had somehow managed to turn his head. When Jamie found himself in possession of a spare ticket to an Ariana Grande concert, it was Melanie he’d offered it to.

But Rosie hadn’t given up. Melanie had spoken of nothing recently except her plans to study philosophy at the University of Bath, so Rosie considered her a temporary hindrance. They would wave Melanie off on the train to Somerset, then she and Jamie would spend an idyllic year together exploring themselves and their art.

Nothing was going to stop her.

Her father helped her to lug her belongings down the stairs. His friend, Tom, came over to help, and between them they hauled the suitcases from Rosie’s room to the back of Tom’s Land Rover. Her father’s Porsche was too small for Rosie, her stuff, and all the kind souls who were intent upon seeing her settled in Stirling, so Tom offered. He ran the farm adjoining her father’s land, and he and Rosie’s dad had been friends for as long as she could remember. Rosie stopped calling him Uncle Tom by thetime she was eleven, but he was still the man she loved most in the world, barring her father and Jamie, obviously.

Mercifully, even though she had thrown pretty much everything she owned in those cases, no one noticed her violin wasn’t there. So far, so good. She could do without awkward questions, especially as she was such a crap liar.

Her original plan was to be gone before the start of the first semester. The four of them heading for London were to meet up at Leeds station and hop on a train to Kings Cross. They planned to travel light, but Rosie would have had her violin with her. She needed it to make a living. But Katie and her boyfriend, Marcus, had both tested positive for Covid the day before they were supposed to go, so they had to delay by a fortnight, which took them beyond the day Rosie was to start at Stirling University.

If she didn’t go to university, there would have been an inquisition. Her dad would never have let up until Rosie explained why, and she knew how that would end. So, for a quiet life, well, quieter, she would let him think she was safely away at uni when really, she would be heading down south the first chance she got. She gave her violin to Jamie to take care of for her, until I could join him. This way, she could slip away with just a small bag, and no one would know for a while. A day or two if she was lucky, by which time, she would be with my mates in a squat in Walthamstow.

She did feel guilty, deceiving her dad. He didn’t deserve it, not really, and she knew he only said ‘no’ because he cared about her. But Ishe was eighteen now. She was an adult, she could do what she liked. So, this was it. She was off.

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