Page 18 of Perfect

Checking my phone, it was almost midnight and was now pitch-black outside, the fact that there were no streetlights in the area added to the darkness. There was just the glow of the moon and a slight beam from a security light.

Dinner had been perfection; a homemade quiche, jacket potato, and loads of salad with lashings of dressing. Anna had prepared it beautifully before she went out.

Dad and I had chatted about this and that as we ate and then we went to chill out in his study. It was much messier than it had been earlier, with loads of unopened letters on the desk.

We spoke briefly about Mum and he didn’t go into any details about the divorce which I appreciated. No daughter wanted to participate in discussions about their parents’ break up. It was hard enough when my mother brought it up.

It didn’t matter now that he went off with another woman, if he’d been happy, he would have stayed. It was textbook stuff really; most of my friend’s folks were separated.

We spoke about my exams and Dad mentioned Uni again. I was good with young kids but did I really want to teach?

After talking about possible career options, we listened to music together. Dad even poured me a glass of red wine, which wasn’ttotallyawful.

All in all, our first proper get-together at the farm was a success. I even kissed him goodnight on the cheek and he wore the meatiest of smiles as I left for bed.

As I lay back, fully dressed, I allowed my eyes to drift closed. I was looking forward to the morning. I was an early riser and Dad had said that he would give me the ‘official’ tour and introduce me to how things worked on the farm. Maybe I’d love it so much I would be a farmer? I imagined myself in baggy dungarees and a straw hat. It could work.

I rubbed my eyes and was about to slip under the covers when I heard the growl of an engine outside. I pushed up on my elbows, rolled off the bed and headed to the window.

Drawing back a curtain, I peeked outside to see who it was, aware that it was pretty late for visitors.

It was Connor. He climbed out of the Ranger and slammed the door; he must have just come in from the pub, although he didn’t appear drunk. His steps were straight and determined, no swaying like Lisa when she was pissed. I pushed the thought of drink-driving aside. Who cared, he could do what the hell he wanted; if he wished to drive his car into a tree; that washisbusiness.

Although it was dark, I could see clearly enough and I watched as he strode around to the back of the car and riffled in the boot.

My curiosity was well and truly stoked and I moved the curtain wider for a better view, wondering what on earth he was doing. Did he have a body in there? I grinned at my own joke.

He appeared to be bandaging his knuckles which sent a shard of alarm into me. Had he hurt himself? Had he been fighting? My maternal instincts kicked in and I felt a moment of genuine concern that he may be hurt.

Wrinkling my nose, I pushed away the unearned loyalty, knowing that any offer of assistance would be vehemently rebuffed.

He wore clean jeans which hung low on his hips and a black T-shirt that had the image of a scary-looking rock band on it.

I watched as he made his way toward the hay barn with his hands wrapped in tape and caught a glimpse of the determination on his face. I drew away from the window. Whatever he was up to wasn’t my business and if he knew I’d been watching him, I’d be mortified.

I climbed onto the bed and decided to push all thoughts and concerns about Connor Barratt from my head.

My phone pinged from the bedside table and I lifted it to my face, the light from the screen was bright. I had three texts from my mother, all saying the same thing.

Hope you’re having fun. Love you x

Hope you’re having fun. Love you x

Hope you’re having fun. Love youx

As I anticipated. Mum was probably shitfaced. No emojis this time thank goodness.

I knew she’d be fine, she always stopped when she knew she’d had enough and pretty muchneverhad a hangover.

Pushing thoughts of everything aside, I closed my eyes and slept like the dead.

*****

Having woken up in my crumpled clothes, bedhead hair and half of my face still made up, I decided to take a quick shower before breakfast.

I wasn’t sure where Dad would take me, but I imagined dirt would be involved so I tugged on a black camisole top with spaghetti straps, blue skinny jeans, and my pink Converse. I checked myself in the mirror; I certainly smashed the farm girl look and I dragged my freshly washed hair into a ponytail without drying it.

As I entered the kitchen, it was empty but there was a bowl of freshly cooked croissants on the table and I tore a piece off one and popped it between my lips, the flavour causing my mouth to water.

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