“Let you go?” Dad interrupts. “What’s she talking about, love?”
I jump like a scalded cat and turn to see Dad peering at Demeter with a bright-eyed, inquiring expression.
“Shit,” says Demeter, and brings a hand to her head. “Katie, I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Does she know you from London?” Dad looks still more puzzled. “Katie, who is this?”
“She works for Cooper Clemmow,” Steve tells him with lugubrious importance. “Googled her, didn’t I? ‘Demeter Farlowe’ she calls herself there. And he works there.” Steve jerks a finger toward Alex, who has been standing on the sidelines. “They’re Katie’s bosses, come down from London. That’s who they are.”
Dad is looking from Demeter to Alex, a muscle working in his jaw.
“Why didn’t you let on who you were?” he says shortly, addressing them both. “What’s the big secret?”
“Well.” Demeter glances at me. “It’s…delicate….”
“Have you come here to fire Katie?” he says, in sudden wrath. “Because that’s not on. That’s not on!” he practically bellows. “She’s been a good employee, has our Katie.” He turns on Alex, who gives a startled jump. “She’s on the computer all the time, taking calls, working all hours…even during her so-called sabbatical….I mean, what kind of bosses are you, anyway? It’s exploitation! That’s what it is!”
“Dad, stop!” I lift up a hand in desperation. “You’ve got it wrong. They haven’t come to fire me. The truth is…” I gulp hard, feeling unsteady on my feet. “I was trying to tell you earlier….”
Tears are edging down my cheeks. I’m aware of all the glampers staring at me in shock, and Demeter standing there, still dripping, and Alex…Alex, gazing at me with the kindest, saddest expression I’ve ever seen….
“Dad, I need to talk to you,” I manage. “You and Biddy. Right now.”
—
The “what” is easy. It’s the “why.”
After I’ve explained exactly what happened, what exactly the reasons for my redundancy were, and how I’ve attempted to rejoin the job market, I still haven’t told them anything, really. Dad and Biddy are sitting on our old, faded pink chintz sofa in the sitting room—this felt like a sitting-room thing—and they’re both silenced.
“But, Katie…” says Dad at last, and he doesn’t need to say any more. He looks profoundly shocked, as though the world isn’t as he thought it was. And it’s my fault.
“Dad—” I break off, my cheeks taut with the effort of not crying. “I didn’t want to worry you. I thought, if I quickly got myself a new job…”
“So that’s what you’ve been up to,” says Biddy gently.
“I’ve applied for so many jobs. So many jobs…” The memory of how many jobs I’ve applied for feels exhausting. “I thought you’d never need to know.” I bite my lip and close my eyes, wishing it were three months ago and I had the chance to do everything differently. “I’m sorry.” At last I open my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Dad….”
“Katie, don’t be sorry,” he says at once, his voice rough with some emotion I can’t read. “Love, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about. You’ve had a hard time of it, and I just wish we’d known…I wish we could have helped…but there it is.” He leans forward and takes my hands tightly in his big ones. “Katie, all we care about is your happiness. Sod the lot of them. Sod them. You come back here. You run Ansters Farm for us. You’re a brilliant, brilliant girl, and if they can’t see it, well, we can. Right, Biddy?”
I don’t know how to respond. I glance over at Biddy, and she’s shaking her head, a little frown notched between her brows.
“But, Mick,” she says in those quiet, measured tones of hers, “I don’t think it’s quite as simple as that. I don’t think Katie wants to make her life and career here. Do you, darling? Or am I wrong?”
I’ve never felt such tension in this room; it’s like the air is viscous with it. I need to speak; I need to tell the truth. But without hurting my dad.
“Dad…” My voice trembles so much, I can hardly utter the words. “I want to live in London. I still want to give it a go. I know you’ll never understand it, but it’s my dream.” I rub my face hard, feeling desperate. “But I don’t want to break your heart. If I go to London I know I will. And so I’m stuck. I don’t know what to do. I don’t…I can’t…”
My words are all mixed up and incoherent in my head. Tears are running down my face again. I dart a glance at Dad and he appears stricken.
“Katie!” he says, and exhales. “Love. What gave you the idea I don’t want you to live in London?”
Is he serious?
“Well…you know,” I gulp. “Like, saying London’s overpriced and dangerous and dirty…telling me to buy a flat in Howells Mill…”
“Mick!” exclaims Biddy. “Why did you tell Katie to buy a flat in Howells Mill?”
“I only suggested it,” says Dad, looking caught out.
“I feel guilty all the time. All the time.” As I say the words out loud, I feel a massive relief. And dread. I’m venturing into places I would never have dared to tread before. But maybe they need venturing into.
“You know what? I want to say something.” Biddy’s voice makes me start. As I turn to her in surprise, I can see that her cheeks are pink. She looks nervous but resolute. “I always try to stand back when it’s the two of you at odds. I try not to put my oar in when it’s not wanted. But I think right now it’s needed. Because I can see two people I love—I love the pair of you, you know that, don’t you?” Biddy adds, her cheeks flaming even darker pink. “I can see two people who are hurting each other, and I won’t stand it anymore. Mick, can’t you see what pressure it puts on Katie, telling her to buy a flat in Howells Mill, for Pete’s sake? Why would she do that? And you know what I thought about our last trip to London….” Biddy turns to me and adds, “I told your dad he should apologize to you, some of the ridiculous things he said.” She lifts a hand as Dad opens his mouth to protest. “I know you worry about Katie, Mick. But eight million people live in London safely enough, don’t they? They haven’t all been gunned down or mugged, have they?”
Dad is looking a bit shamefaced. Meanwhile, I’m so gobsmacked by Biddy’s sudden eloquence, I can’t find a response.
“But there’s something else, Katie.” She turns back to me. “You know, we’re not stupid. We know life in London is tough and expensive and all the rest of it. We see the headlines; we watch the news reports. You always sound so positive, as though everything’s a dream come true…but it can’t be that easy all the time? Is it?”
There’s a huge pause. I’m feeling slightly as though I want to throw myself to Biddy’s knees and hug her.
“No,” I admit at last. “It’s not. It’s not at all.”
“No one’s life has to be perfect.” Biddy leans over and puts an arm round me, tight. “Don’t put so much pressure on yourself, love. Whoever started the rumor that life has to be perfect is a very wicked person, if you ask me. Of course it’s not! And none of this nonsense about breaking your dad’s heart,” she adds. “How could you ever break his heart?”
Slowly, almost not daring to, I raise my eyes to meet Dad’s. Dad’s eyes. They’ve been my benchmark all my life, my North Pole. I gaze into their blue depths, allowing myself to see his love, burning amid the twinkles. And just a few splinters, still.
I think Biddy hasn’t got it quite right. I think maybe I did break Dad’s heart a little. But maybe I did that just by growing up.
“Love…” Dad exhales slowly. “I’m sorry. I know what it must look like to you. And I’ll be honest: I’m not the greatest fan of London. But if you like it, maybe I’ll come to like it.” He glances at Biddy and hastily amends: “I will come to like it.”
“Well, you may not need to.” I make an attempt at a lighthearted laugh. “If I stay unemployed.”