Page 100 of The Worst Guy Ever
“Two years?” I bellow, causing heads to turn. How has she kept this from me for two years?
“He’s a good man, Hattie.” Her tone is firm, and my throat burns the way it always did when I knew I was about to get told off. “He’s not like the others.”
“So he’s made himself at home has he?” Has it really been that long since I last visited her? I try to remember but memories are a bit of a blur lately. “Have you added him to the will? Let him borrow your bank card?”
It’s a low blow and I can tell by the look on her face that it stings. I’m sure she’s not forgotten the bastard who emptied her limited savings and disappeared, just like I haven’t forgotten eating dinner at Megan’s every night for a week because there was no money for food.
“Rick has his own money, and a good job. He’s a social worker. He’s also got his own house, just round the corner. I’m not really interested in living with anyone at my age. This works for both of us.” I take a step back and let her words sink in. That all sounds so… sensible. “He’s got his own grown-up daughters too. I think you’d really like them, they’re around here somewhere.”
She glances around the garden and I take the opportunity to glare at my sister, the picture of serenity, her head tipped back laughing with two glamorous looking women. They’re probably laughing about the price of avocados or some smug middle-class shit like that.
“Oh that’s them there, with Georgina.”
As if I couldn’t feel any worse about myself than I already do. George looks like she’s found the sisters she’s always wanted.
“So everyone’s just one big happy family except me, is that it?” I drain my beer and storm inside in search of something stronger.
This is bullshit. I feel ambushed, except it’s less of an ambush, more of a stumbling across a happy little life that you’ve been excluded from. Nothing says‘childhood abandonment trauma’like everyone having a jolly good time while you want to kick the shit out of everything. Brenda, the therapist Luke recommended, is gonna have a field day with this one.
I’ve seen her three times now and even in that short space of time she’s pushed me to unlock some seriously heavy shit. Most notably, that we have therapy to deal with the crap passed on from the people who probably should have had their own therapy in the first place.
I felt mentally prepared to come here today and hold my own, but I was not prepared to be blindsided by the longest boyfriend my mum has ever had, who apparently my whole family are in love with. Dad didn’t want me, and now the rest of my family don’t either. I grip the edge of the kitchen counter and force myself to take some deep breaths.
“You must be Harriet,” a voice behind me says. I turn slowly, even though I already know who I’m about to see.
“Hattie.”
“Oh yes, sorry, your mum told me that’s what you prefer.”
“Right. And you’re Rick?”
“That’s me,” he says cheerfully, pointing two thumbs at his face. “I’ve heard a lot about you from your mum, and from your sister, but I would love it if you could come to dinner with us all sometime, and we can get to know each other better.”What the fuck has my sister been saying to this random man?I’m not agreeing to anything, and George is about to get an earful. I find her in the garden and drag her away from her friends.
“You could have told me about Rick,” I say, jabbing her in the shoulder with my finger. “Thanks for the heads up,Sis.”
“What about Rick?”
“This is the first I’ve ever heard about bloody Rick,” I hiss. Trying to keep my voice down is not easy when I’m this angry and insulted. “I would have appreciated a warning that I was about to meet another one of Mum’s dickheads.”
“Watch your mouth, Hattie,” covering Rosie’s ears. “I thought you knew. Have you not met him?”
“No, we haven’t met!”
“Well, he’s great,” she says dismissively, hoiking her nonplussed daughter higher up her hip. “You have nothing to worry about with him.”
‘Nothing to worry about’is code for he’s not going to lock us in the garden in the rain, shout at us, throw our toys away, sell our TV for drugs, be drunk and naked in the living room when we get home from school, hit Mum when he thinks we’re not listening, or leave us and start a better family. All the things the rest of the bastards have done over the years.
“He’s different, Hattie,” she says, resting a hand on my shoulder. “He’s not using Mum for anything, he’s a great companion for her. He was married until his wife passed away, and he’s got his own daughters. Shall I introduce you? They’re lovely.”
My head is swimming, I can’t wrap my head around it all. “No, I’m not in the mood, some other time.”
“Are you OK?” George says, ducking her head and forcing me to look her in the eye. “Is something else going on?”
“I’m fine,” I say, sulkily. “I think I’m going to go, though. Sorry, this is all a bit much.”
“It’s OK, I appreciate you coming anyway, and so does Teddy. Do you want to say goodbye to Mum or just go? I can cover for you if you need.”
I’m the big sister. I’m the one who is supposed to look out for her, but it’s always been this way, her fixing my problems, her covering for me when I’ve made mess after mess.
