Page 117 of The Twelve Dates of Christmas
“Gerry can fend for himself like he left me to do!” said her mum. “His passport’s been seized and I’ve instructed the harbormaster to give all his clothes to charity. He won’t get far,” she went on. “A naked sexagenarian running around the island is bound to get noticed.”
Kate had to agree.
“Leave it to me, Mum,” said Kate. “I’ll get you home.”
Kate persuaded her mum to pass the phone to the officer in charge—who seemed very friendly and assured Kate that the tea had been hot when served—and acquired the relevant details before beginning the process of getting her mother safely back to Spain.
She didn’t have seven hundred poundsgive or take. She would have to whack it on the credit card and try to pay it back in the new year. If there was one thing Kate was sure of, it was that her mum would not consider this a loan.
Laura will love this,Kate thought, as she clicked confirm on the flight details. And then she remembered that she’d fallen out with her best friend and she felt sick to her stomach.
After phoning the Barbados police station and giving the details for her mother’s swift departure—for which the officer sounded only too pleased—Kate got showered and dressed.
It was seven thirty a.m. and still dark outside. Kate grabbed her boots and threw on her coat and went to intercept her dad on his way back from getting his morning paper.
She found Mac wading through last night’s fresh snowfall, cap fastened on his head, a thick tube of rolled-up newspaper under his arm. They were the only two people out in the street. Mac’s face lit up when he saw Kate.
“Hallo, love,” he said. “Are you out searching for inspiration?”
“Actually I was out searching for you,” said Kate. “Fancy coming round for a coffee?”
As they walked arm in arm along the quiet road, Kate regaled her dad with her mum’s latest adventures.
“I can’t believe that Gerry is such a snake,” said her dad.
“Can’t you?” asked Kate. “I can well believe it.”
“Well, you can’t afford to pay out all that money by yourself,” said Mac. “I’ll give you half.”
“No, Dad, it’s fine, honestly...”
“Now don’t go arguing with me about it,” said Mac. “I’m paying half and that’s the end of it.”
“But she doesn’t deserve it, Dad,” said Kate. “Not from you. I have to help. I’m obliged by the unwritten law of daughterly responsibility.”
“And I’m bound by the fatherly protection code,” said Mac. “I’m not doing it to help your mother, I’m doing it to help you. And I won’t take no for an answer,” he went on. “You want to know where you get your stubbornness from? You’re looking at it!”
Kate squeezed her dad’s arm and reached up to kiss his cheek.
“Thanks, Dad,” she said. “You’re the best. Mum never did deserve you.”
“Do you know something, my love,” said Mac. “I think you might be right.”
Kate smiled at him, already dreading having to ruin her dad’s day by telling him she planned to leave Blexford. But it wasn’t something she could put off. No action or expression was missed in the village; no roll of parcel tape purchased or cardboard box saved went unnoticed. It would only be a matter of time before tongues began to wag, and Kate couldn’t bear the idea of her dad finding out from anyone else but her.
THE ELEVENTH DATE OF CHRISTMAS
•••••
Lip-Smacking Wine and a Smack in the Chops
This was horrible. Awful. Kate looked at her dad and her dad looked back at her. He was getting old. It was easy to forget, he was so busy, so chirpy. But now as he sat at the table, holding his mug, looking from Kate to the table and back again, he looked his age. Worry lines crinkled his forehead and the lines under his eyes seemed more pronounced somehow; it was easy to miss them when he was smiling. He wasn’t smiling now.
“So when are you leaving?” he asked.
“I heard back from Josie this morning,” said Kate. “I can stay with her from the twenty-eighth. Just until I get myself sorted with my own place.”
“Why the rush?” asked Mac.
