Page 22 of The Typo

I was getting carried away. Obviously, it didn’t make any difference what his appearance was or what he sounded like. What would be most interesting was whether our connection carried off the page and into actual interaction in real time. I wrapped my arms around myself. The thought of meeting him filled me with apprehension, even if it was only a virtual meeting. But I realised that alongside this, something like excitement was already building.

* * *

‘You look like you’ve had some good news, poppet,’ said Dad, as I went downstairs to help with preparations for dinner.

‘Just feeling happy to be at home with you,’ I said, nudging him affectionately.

‘Nothing exciting to rush back to the city for tomorrow?’ he asked.

‘It’s nice to see you smiling,’ said Mum, thankfully diverting attention so I didn’t have to reply to Dad. She hugged me as she walked past on her way to drain the pasta. ‘We’re always glad of an extra pair of hands to do the washing up.’ She winked at me.

‘Charming, I know where I stand in the family hierarchy.’

‘We only really invited you for your excellent pasta sauce recipe,’ said Dad. ‘Speaking of which, the garlic is at your disposal.’

‘Excellent. No peeking while I get my secret ingredients out of the store cupboard.’

‘One of these days we’ll work it out,’ said Dad.

‘You’ll have to torture it out of me,’ I said with a grin, hoping I could remember it myself. It had been a while since I’d last made this concoction, my go-to recipe whenever I was entertaining.

It was good to sit down and eat with my family, definitely preferable to the solo meals or snatched Tupperware picnics at my desk which I’d got far too used to. We even managed to rouse Liv on FaceTime to join our meal virtually. Although it wasn’t a mealtime for her, she gamely joined in by daintily eating some fruit with a tiny fork which made my dad tease her relentlessly for her fancy New York ways.

Despite the lovely company I was in, I couldn’t resist sneaking looks at my phone throughout the meal to see if a reply from Cameron had landed yet.

‘Expecting a call from someone special?’ said Dad, always one to get straight to the point. I’d not confided in my parents about my loneliness, but I knew they had their suspicions, probably because I was always free to take their calls, and talked about the girls far less frequently than I used to.

Liv joined in with the questioning, happy to divert the teasing away from her.

‘Please tell me you’ve met a sexy Outlander type. When can I book a ticket home to meet him?’

‘Calm down, you lot. And no, I’m not expecting a phone call. Just a reply to an email. Nothing important.’

‘I hope it’s not work related,’ said Mum. ‘You give far too much of your time to that place.’

‘Seconded,’ piped up Liv. I glared at her. As if she was the one to talk: her punishing schedule put mine to shame.

‘I might as well do while I still have a workplace to go to,’ I said, then regretted putting such a downer on the atmosphere.

‘Have you thought about what you might do if the Variety closes?’ asked Liv, obviously having been filled in on the situation by my parents. I knew they did it from a place of love, but it felt uncomfortable to know I’d been the subject of worried family conversations.

I shrugged, feeling myself reverting to uncommunicative teenage mode.

My parents exchanged glances. Mum raised a questioning eyebrow at my dad to which he responded with a small nod of his head.

‘The thing is, pet, we’ve been talking about it, and if you wanted to have another go, we’d happily support you as best we can.’

‘Another go?’ I said, although I could guess what she was referring to.

‘At the music.’ She held up her hand to stop any interruption. ‘Just hear me out. If you want to have another try at pursuing music, you’ll have our support. I hope you know you’ve always had it. You’ve got such talent, we know you could make a real go of it if you want to. You could move home if that would take the financial pressure off, and we wouldn’t charge you rent. I’m sorry we can’t do more for you. But the offer is there. We want you to know that we believe in you, even if you’re struggling to believe in yourself for some reason.’

I felt the tears prick at the back of my eyes. I reached out and squeezed first my mum’s hand, then my dad’s.

‘Thanks, guys. I know you’ve always had my back. I’ll think about it.’

The beaming response from both my parents made me feel terrible. I only said I’d think about it because I didn’t want to hurt them with an instant rejection. But well-meaning as they were, they couldn’t fully understand. If only it was as simple as ‘having another go’.

Thankfully Liv provided a welcome distraction by saying she had to hang up soon and get ready for a date which naturally put the full beam of parental interest squarely back on her.

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