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Authors: Kelly Harte

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BOOK: Guilty Feet
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She could be a real cow at times, and deep down I didn’t blame him for trying to find a bit of happiness. But I couldn’t be seen to be encouraging him, now, could I? And if Mum ever found out I’d allowed him to entertain an attractive woman in my flat she’d never forgive me.

We’d just reached the late-night deli on The Calls, and I stopped him before we went inside.

‘Look, Dad...’ I said. I told him that it wasn’t on. Firmly. I said that if he wanted to have dinner with Giovanna then he’d have to take her out somewhere and I didn’t want to know anything about it.

‘Thanks, Jo,’ he said simply when I’d finished my lecture.

‘And besides,’ I added with a hint of a grin, ‘you don’t want to put her off on the first date by serving up one of your specials, now, do you?’

There was a message on the answer-phone when I got in. It was from my mother and it was very brief. ‘Check your Hotmail immediately,’ she instructed bluntly.

I looked over at Dad, who was hovering in the kitchen door with the deli carrier bag. He looked worried.

‘She’ll have to wait,’ I said. It was a very small act of defiance against my mother’s demands.

Dad had bought a nice bottle of red wine that he opened straight away in silence. We drank it quickly as we ate game pie and salad, also in silence, and the time eventually came when I could put off the evil moment no longer.

***

Dan waited until the end of his work day till he dealt with his e-mails. There was one from his favourite wacko, Jedski, drawing his attention to the fact that three members of Crypt Factory were born under the same astrological sign of Scorpio.

Can
that
really
just
be
coincidence
Dan
my
man?
he wanted to know. Or
are
there
mysterious
forces
at
work
here
...
?

He was always supplying ‘interesting facts’ that supported his theory of there being something almost supernatural about the band.

Very
possibly
, Dan wrote back with his tongue in his cheek.
You
should
set
up
a
website
and
share
your
thoughts
with
a
wider
audience
.

He dealt with a few other communications and then wrote a reply to Sarah’s latest message.

Dear
Sarah

I’m
trying
to
imagine
‘averagely
gorgeous’
and
I
can’t
quite
get
a
handle
on
it
.

I’ve
got
to
make
a
trip
to
London
tomorrow
and
I
wondered
if
we
could
possibly
meet
,
so
I
can
judge
for
myself

Dan

He’d had a call from his editor during the day. Vantage-Point had a single coming out very soon and there was apparently a buzz going round about it making number one in the charts. This was good news for the book, and the publishers wanted further discussions with its author. He’d tried explaining that with such a tight deadline it didn’t make sense to take a day out, but his editor had been adamant. And since she’d offered to pay all his travel expenses he’d reluctantly agreed in the end. But then he’d thought about Sarah Daly and his reluctance had lessened. It would probably be a bit short notice for her, but it still seemed worth a try.

And, come to think of it, a day away from the flat might not be such a bad thing. He had Libby to deal with shortly, and he wasn’t looking forward to it one little bit. But he was fed up with trying to avoid her—going out when he should be writing, making endless excuses. And being honest with her had to be better than spending the rest of his life ducking and diving.

He felt very uneasy, though, when he heard her knock on his door, just after seven-thirty.

She looked nice in her red sweater and tight jeans, but wary. As if she had a good idea about what was to come. He had a bottle of cheap red wine from way back, and he opened it now when she followed him into the kitchen.

‘I’ve been fired from my job,’ she said gloomily, and he almost faltered in his resolve.

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he said as he pulled the cork. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘Not really,’ she said, as she sat down heavily at the table. ‘I’m more interested in what you’ve got to say at the moment.’

He poured the wine up to the brim of both glasses and passed one to Libby. He sat down opposite her and looked at her directly.

‘I’m sorry about the other night,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid it was a mistake.’

‘A mistake?’ she repeated as her eyes flashed angrily.

‘Only in that I’m not ready for a new relationship yet,’ he said, revising the speech he had planned on the hoof. He’d intended to be completely frank, to tell her she wasn’t his type any more than Aisling was, but he didn’t think that would go down too well. She’d probably tell him he should have thought about that before he spent the night with her, and that was the truth. He should have. ‘I suppose I haven’t really got Jo out of my system yet, and you did kind of remind me of her the other night.’

‘So it’s my fault?’ she said acidly.

‘Of course not. It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s more about timing, I suppose.’ Which wasn’t strictly true, but he was keener than ever now to soften the blow.

‘So if I hung around for a couple of months things might be different then, is that what you’re saying?’

He wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or not, but he still couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth: that he didn’t fancy her one little bit. Not when he was sober, at any rate.

He took a long swallow of wine. It left a metallic taste in his mouth.

‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘But at the moment I’d prefer it if we could just be friends.’

She got up.

‘Well, there’s not much else to say, really, is there?’

‘I suppose not.’ He felt pathetically inadequate at that particular moment.

He got up as well, and followed her to the door.

‘Did you decide what to do about the offer you had for that album?’ he said, trying to lighten things between them.

‘I’ve had another offer since then—but you’re right. I have to make my own decisions, and I have.’ She sounded cold, and he hated leaving things like this.

‘I have to go to London tomorrow,’ he said, ‘but maybe we could do something together on Friday night.’

‘As friends?’ she said sourly.

He nodded, and as he looked at her he could have sworn he saw a glint in her eye.

‘What time will you be back tomorrow?’

‘Not sure,’ he said, still hoping that he would hear from Sarah. ‘Late, I expect.’

‘Well, have a good time,’ she said, and with that she turned and ran up the stairs to her flat.

***

I went into my Hotmail account and opened the dreaded e-mail from my mother.

Dad was hovering close by, but I told him I’d better read it in private. When he went to the bathroom I steeled myself to read what she had to say for herself. I was expecting the worst, and as usual she didn’t disappoint me.

She began in her favourite style—attack.

Your father
left
me
to
fend
for
myself
and
you
choose
to
take
his
side!
The
only
chance
you
have
of
forgiveness
is
to
turn
him
out
straight
away
.

It moved quickly into self-pity.

After all I’ve done for you as well. How could you do this to me, Joanna? I only wanted to teach him a lesson. He was supposed to come back after a day or two with his tail between his legs. He’d been getting so belligerent, you see, arguing with me all the time. I don’t know what came over him but he just wasn’t being himself. So I had to teach him a lesson. You can see that, can’t you?

Then came the real reason she was so upset.

He
must
come
home
immediately
.
I
can’t
be
held
responsible
for
my
actions
if
he
doesn’t
.
I
shall
be
an
absolute
laughing
stock
if
anyone
gets
wind
of
this
.
Barbara
Dick
already
has
the scent
.
She
was
round
here
today
nosing
about
,
asking
awkward
questions
.

Then a little added titbit that had nothing to do with her current plight but pleased me enormously.

I
knew
she
was
after
something
because
she
hardly
ever
gives
anything
away
,
and
she
must
have
been
trying
to
trade
information
because
she
told
me
that
Nicola’s
company
is
in
trouble
.
I
didn’t
tell
her
a
thing,
though
.
And
if
you
do
right
by
me
now
I
won’t
have
to
.

Finally, an attempt to put all the responsibility of her future happiness on to me.

You
have
to
send
him
back,
Joanna
.
I’m
relying
on
you
to
save
our
marriage
.

If my life had depended on it I would not have turned my father out of the flat and back into my mother’s clutches after that. He could stay for ever as far as I was concerned, and if he fell madly in love with Giovanna—well, then, she only had herself to blame.

I never did get round to checking Sarah’s messages that night. Dad and I talked for a very long time about my mother, and I didn’t feel remotely guilty about taking his side. Someone had to, and if even half of what he told me was true, his life with her had been very much worse than I’d ever imagined. And I’d imagined it was pretty bad anyway.

‘But why did she actually throw you out?’ I asked. ‘She said something about you being argumentative.’ Which didn’t sound much like my father.

‘It was the Dicks,’ he said surprisingly. ‘We’d been seeing a lot of them for some reason recently for dinner at their place and ours. I’d never liked either of them very much, and I just got fed up with being unfavourably compared to Brian Dick all the time. She even wanted me to take elocution lessons so I could learn to speak “nicely”, like Brian.’ He shrugged. ‘So I told your mother I didn’t want them around anymore and she was furious. She gave me a few of her famous home truths, which included the fact that I was boring and common.’

‘Huh!’ I exclaimed in hot, indignant defence of my dad. ‘Next to Brian Dick you’re the most interesting man on earth.’ Which was a bit of a back-handed compliment, but luckily my dad didn’t seem to notice.

‘And because I was adamant for once in my life, because I refused to go to the Dicks’ next time they asked us, your mother decided I needed to be taught a lesson?’

BOOK: Guilty Feet
5.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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