The Ivy Lessons (33 page)

‘Sophia, you don’t know what you’r
e saying,’ says Marc. ‘You don’t
know what you’d be giving up to become part of my world. Your freedom – gone. Just like that. They’d trawl through your past, bother your family ... I won’t let you go through it. Not for me.’

‘What if it wasn’t your choice?’ I say. ‘What if when we go back to
London, I tell the press myself?
’

Marc stares at me. ‘I’d forbid you from doing that.’

‘And what if I didn’t listen?’

‘You’d really go and do something like that? Without my permission?’

‘If it means being with you,
out in the open,
then yes.’

Marc sits up. ‘It means that much to yo
u, having a relationship w
i
th me? Th
at you’d give up your privacy. Your freedom ...’

‘Yes.’

Marc rubs his eyes, and stares at the sun rising above the sea. ‘No one has ever thought what I offered was worth giving anything up for. I never expected ... I don’t know how I’ve got you into this situation, and I hate myself for it.

‘
But if you were determined to bring us out in the open, then I’d get my PR people to manage a campaign around you to mediate the damage. Make sure
you were set up as the good girl
. Make sure I took all the blame.’

He gets up and begins getting dressed. ‘I’m going to strike a deal with you.’

‘A deal?’

Marc nods, sliding on his boxer shorts. ‘Wait until we’ve got back to London, then go back to your fam
ily
. Talk to your father. Don’t m
ake the decision straight away.
And if
,
after all that, you still decide you
want
us to come out in the open, I’ll support your
deci
sion. I’ll come meet your father
and explain myself.’

‘You would?’

The hollows in Marc’s cheeks grow tight and shadowy. ‘Yes,’ he says eventually. ‘I’d support you. I’d support us.’ He shakes his head. ‘But if you make that decision, you have to be prepared for a lot of negative attention. I can only protect you so muc
h
.’

‘I think I can handle it,’ I say. ‘If it means being with you.’

Th
e flight back is smooth and calm
, but I’m too anxious to relax. The thought of telling my father about Marc is overwhelming, and Marc’s warnings haven’t fallen on deaf ears. I know there might be a hate campaign against me. I know I might be painted as the slutty student who seduced Marc
Blackwell
. Or the naive student who’s fallen for a wicked older man.

When we land, Marc arranges for Keith to take me straight to my Dad’s house.

Chapter
70

I knock on the door
tentatively, knowing Dad isn’t
expecting me.

Dad opens the door with strawberry jam on his forehead and pastry in his hair.

‘Love!’ He throws his arms around me. ‘This is a nice surprise.’
Sam is in the background in his highchair, also covered in jam.

‘
Good to see you too
.’

‘Come in, come in.’ Dad opens the door. ‘Sam and I were just making jam tarts.’

‘Where’s Genoveva
?’

‘Having a facial. She’s needs to relax. This is all very hard on her, parenthood late in life.’

The house is a bombsite, made worse by Dad’s baking attemp
ts. Sam bangs the highchair table when he sees
me
, his hands and face covered in pastry and jam.

I pick him up, and put the kettle on.

‘I’m glad Genoveva
isn’t here,’ I say. ‘There’s something I need to talk to you about alone.’

‘Oh? Nothing serious is it, love? You’re not ill, are you?’

‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘Nothing like that.’ I make two teas and set them on the dining table.

‘So what then?’

This is so much har
der than I’d imagined. And imagining it was
pr
etty difficult
.

‘It’s about a man I’m seeing.’

‘Are you ... pregnant or something?’

‘No, no.’ I shake my head, taking a seat and putting Sam on my lap. Dad comes to sit down too.

‘Because you know I’ll support you one hundred percent, whatever you want to do. Your mum had you very young, and I’ve never regretted -’

‘Dad, will you just listen?
I’m not pregnant. It’s not that. But ... I’m seeing someone at university.’

‘Well, you’re twenty three,’ says Dad. ‘Nothing wrong with that. I’m glad you’re seeing someone. Is he a nice chap? I’d like to meet him.’

A nice chap. Those aren’t the first words I’d use to describe Marc. But he is a good person. Deep down in his heart, his intentions are good, even if his manner can be slightly cold.

‘He’s ... a lecturer,’ I say.
Sam grabs at my watch
.
I carefully unpeel his fingers.

‘Oh.’ Dad takes a sip of tea and looks thoughtful. ‘
Right. I suppose that’s a little different. For a start, he must
be a lot older than you.’

‘Not really,’ I say. ‘Only f
ive years.’

Dad considers this. ‘
I
t’s not very ethical, for a lecturer to be having a relationship with a pupil. I can’t say I’d respect the man’s morals all that much.’

‘I understand that,’ I say. ‘But I don’t think either of us planned for t
hings to work out this way. He
was absolutely dead against anything happening between us. It was me who made the decision.
If it had been left up to Marc, h
e would have quit the university
for us to be together, or
never seen me again.’

‘Marc?’ says Dad. ‘As in Marc
Blackwell
? Is that the man you’re seeing?’

I nod.

‘Who does he think he is? Just because he’s
famous
, doesn’t mean he can take advantage of -’

‘It’s not like that,’ I say. ‘We really feel something for each other
.’

‘I haven’t heard good things about him at all,’ says Dad. ‘He seems like a ver
y cold, snooty sort of man
. Not
the sort of character
most men would
be happy about their daughter
seeing.’

‘Yes,’ I agree. ‘He does come across that way. But deep down, he’s a very good person. I promise.’

Dad nods. ‘I
suppose I
can’t imagine you choosing someone who wasn’t.’

I smile at him.

‘Would your mum have approved of this man?’

I think about that. ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I think she would.’

‘Well.’ Dad rests his elbows on the table
. ‘
I suppose I’d like to meet him.
’

‘I
’d like that,’ I say. ‘And so would he. You can meet him
today, if you’d like.’

Dad nods. ‘Yes
. We can make some lunch. I won’t put that on G
enoveva
at
short notice
, we’ll order something in.’

I smile. ‘I can cook, if you’d like.’

‘Would you love? That would be wonderful.’

Chapter
71

I ring Marc, and he picks up straight away.

‘Sophia. How are you?’

‘Okay,’ I say. ‘It wasn’t as toug
h as I’d thought. Dad wants
to meet you. Would you like to come over for lunch today?’

‘I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.’

He hangs up, and I set to work making lunch. There isn’t much in the house, but there’s flour and potatoes in the cupboard and I find some frozen beef and peas in the freezer, so I make a steak pie with mashed potato and gravy.
It’s getting colder outside – good
weather for comfort food.

Genoveva
comes back from her appointment, and squeezes her lips together when she sees
me in the kitchen.

Dad tells her about Marc coming over for lunch, and she hurries upstairs to get ready. An hour later, she comes down plastered in makeup, her black, bobbed hair shiny and styled. She’s wearing a white linen suit, gold jewellery and
heavy rose-
scented perfume. She looks like she’s about to sail
away on a
yacht
.

‘She never makes this effort for me,’ Dad whispers, with a conspiratorial wink. ‘Looks like she’s a bit star struck.’

Just as I take the pie out of the oven, there a knock at the door.

I open it and see the surreal sight of Marc
Blackwell
on my doorstep, his arms full of red roses, wine and a small, wrapped gift.

‘Hello,’ I say, trying to hide my smile.

‘Hello.’ Marc smiles
at
me, that subtle, quirky smile
. ‘It’s good to be here.’

I wonder what he’ll make of our little house, with its open plan living area and rustic, country charm.

Genoveva comes rushing over and curt
sies before him. ‘Mr
Blackwell
. I’ve heard s
o much about you. Welcome to my
home.’

‘The pleasure is all mine,’ s
ays Marc. ‘You must be Genoveva
. I bought these for you.’ He hands her the roses.

‘Oh!’ she gushes, smelling them. ‘They’re beautiful. Please. Follow me to our dining area.’

She leads him to the dining table, where my dad is sat, drinking a coffee. Dad stands as Marc approaches.

‘A pleasure to meet you, sir,’ says Marc. ‘You must be Sophia’s father.’

‘Yes,’ says Dad, looking him over. He looks small next to Marc, but he’s holding himself with a quiet dignity.

Marc puts the gift and wine on the table, and shakes his hand. ‘I hope you don’t mind. I bought a little something for Samuel.’

‘He’s sle
eping right now,’ says Genoveva
, picking up the gift. ‘May I?’

‘Of course,’ says Marc.

Genoveva
tears open the paper, and inside is the simplest of gifts: a set of plastic, stacking cups. They must have cost all of three
pounds, and I can see Genoveva
looking them over, confused. Here is a man who can buy anything he wants, and he’s bought the most inexpensive present for her son.

‘Thank you,’ she says, eyeing the cups uncertainly.

‘My sister has a son a little older than Samuel,’ Marc says. ‘He loves these things. Can’t leave them alone. I’ve given him all sorts of toys – a m
ini motorbike, a jungle gym
, a train set, but he likes these the best.’

I smile. ‘They’re perfect,’ I say.

‘Would you like to take a seat?’ Dad asks.

‘Thank you.’ Marc sits besides my father. ‘I’d just like to say it’s a pleasure to be in your home. And you must be very proud of your daughter
. She’s a remarkable person
.’

‘Yes,’ says Dad.

‘We ... I never planned for the way things have turned out,’ says Marc. ‘It was never my intention to have a relationship wit
h a student
. I planned to leave the university, in fact, when I realised I was falling for Sophia. This must b
e so difficult for you. If I were
in your position, I wouldn’t respect a man like me. I wouldn’t think a man like
me would be good enough for my
daughter. I’m hoping to prove to you that I am.
For Sophia’s sake as much as anyone’s.
’
He gives his quirky, humble smile. ‘For some reason, she thinks I make her happy.’

Dad gives an approving cough. ‘Yes. Well. Early days.’

‘Let’s have lunch,’ I say.

Chapter
7
2

Predictably, the
men at the table eat huge port
ions of the
pie, while Genoveva picks at her piece
and I only have a small slice. I’m too nervous to be hungry.

‘You made this?’ Marc whispers, on his second slice. ‘I can’t believe you’ve never cooked for me before.’ He gives me that playful half
smile and slips his hand into mine.

We drink wine, eat and Dad cross-examines Marc about everything
,
from his acting pedigree
to why he formed the college
.

‘I wanted to send the elevator down,’ says Marc, simply. ‘I wanted other young actors to have the chances I’ve had. Acting is my life. It’s what keeps me sane. And I know that’s true for a lot of young people, but that many of them won’t ever succeed in an acting career, no matter how talented they are. My goal is to help them into the profession.’