Page 10 of Merrily Ever After
It broke Emily’s heart to see him so upset about something that wasn’t even real.
‘Come and sit by the fire, Dad.’ She took his hand and led him to his chair. ‘Don’t worry, you aren’t on your own, I’ll stay with you.’
She felt a prickle of guilt for standing Gavin up at such short notice. But she couldn’t leave her dad. She’d send Gavin a message as soon as her dad was calmer, she decided. He wouldn’t like it, but it was the best she could do.
A noise woke her; the crashing of crockery and splash of a tap turned on too forcefully. Emily sat up in the dark, startled and disorientated and her heart thumping. Not at home, or at Gavin’s. Oh yes, she’d stayed the night on Dad’s lumpy sofa. She reached for her phone to check the time, but it was dead.
‘Dad?’ Her voice was croaky, still laced with sleep.
‘Kettle’s on, Tina,’ he called back brightly. ‘Won’t be long.’
‘I’m Emily, Tina’s daughter,’ she replied. ‘Yourdaughter.’
‘Here we are. Stewed tea, just as you like it.’ He shuffled in, dripping liquid from two overfilled mugs.
Outside the window, she could hear cars, a bus, the sound of a child crying. What the hell?
She fought her way off the saggy cushions, heart racing, and yanked back the curtains. It was light outside. Which meant it must be at least eight o’clock. It was always still dark when she drove to school. She tried to read the time on the DVD player under the TV, but it was flashing a row of zeros.
A feeling of dread crept over her. ‘What’s the time?’
‘Lost my watch, haven’t I,’ he said, turning in a circle looking for somewhere to put the mugs.
Emily didn’t bother reminding him that they’d found it last night. Instead she switched on the TV, found the breakfast programme, and groaned. It was just after eight. ‘I don’t believe it, I’m usually at work by now. Thanks for the tea, Dad, but I need to go.’
She couldn’t go to work wearing clothes that she’d slept in all night, which meant a trip back home to Wysedale before continuing to school. She’d never been this late before, never. She shoved her feet in her shoes, scooping up her belongings and her bag.
‘Oh, OK.’ Her dad’s face fell.
‘Sorry, but I’m really, really late. I’ll ring you in my lunch hour.’ She kissed his cheek and moved around him to get to the door. ‘Remember the nurse is coming to look at your arm today. You mustn’t go out; you must be here when she comes. Promise me?’
‘Not got anywhere to go anyway.’
His face was so forlorn that Emily hesitated in the doorway, reluctant to abandon him and yet desperate to get going. Since he’d moved back, she hadn’t heard him speak of any friends, but there must be someone, somewhere. ‘Have you got anyone I could call, ask them to pop in and see you?’
He sat down in his armchair and fumbled with the remote control before setting it down again. ‘Never been one for friends. I had itchy feet when I was a young man. Moved around too much, chasing rainbows and greener grass. I regret some of that. I wasn’t good to your mum, and you suffered too and … everyone else. I wasn’t good to anyone really. I’m just a nuisance. My father even told me that once, that I was a waste of space.’
She shook her head in despair. Whatever her dad’s faults, she’d never say anything as unkind as that. Her mum had once told her that there had been a rift between him and his parents. They hadn’t had patience with his black moods, as she’d put it, so he’d been asked to leave at seventeen and he’d never gone back. ‘You’re not a waste of space. You’re my dad. And I love you.’
She turned away swiftly before he saw the tears in her eyes. She was almost at the door when a key rattled in the lock and Diane walked in; Emily could have kissed her. Diane was short and stocky with steely grey curls and had the sunniest personality Emily had ever encountered.She reminded her of Cinderella’s fairy godmother in the Disney film. Nothing was ever too much trouble, and nothing fazed her.
‘Oh hello, love,’ Diane beamed. ‘I didn’t know you’d be here, does that mean you don’t need me this morning?’
‘We do need you,’ said Emily, with a sniff, pressing her hand to Diane’s shoulder. ‘Very much.’
As soon as she’d cleared the ice from the car windscreen and plugged her phone into the charger, Emily set off. She’d have to pull over at some point and call the school, send her apologies. The meeting with Mr Rendall would be under way by now. She wondered if anyone had been around to sort out the coffee or whether Alison would have had to do it herself. She cringed. How many times had Alison thanked her for making sure all her meetings ran smoothly, for ensuring visitors were looked after and all the small details were miraculously taken care of without Alison herself having to remember? But not today …
The traffic was appalling; there was so much more of it now than at her usual earlier time. She sat at a junction waiting to turn right for what seemed like ages, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. A tiny gap appeared, and she accelerated recklessly out into the stream of cars and was immediately tooted at by a woman in a big four-wheel drive.
‘Sorry, lady,’ Emily said aloud, raising her hand to apologise. ‘Desperate times.’
Her phone came to life, automatically connecting to the car via Bluetooth. It began to beep and ding with an assortment of messages and notifications. The line of cars in front of her slowed to a standstill on the approach to a roundabout and she took the opportunity to glance acrossat her phone. Several from eBay and Vinted and other places she kept an eye on for clothing bargains. Voicemail from Gavin.
Shit.Emily groaned.
She didn’t want to call him now, not when she was late for work and already stressed, because if he had a go at her she’d probably burst into tears. She’d send him a message to apologise as soon as she was home, she decided. Another apology – it was all she seemed to be doing these days.
As she reached the front of the queue, her phone rang, and Alison’s direct line flashed up on the screen.Oh hell.
