by Jean Ure
“Oh, Bitsy! As if that mattered.”
“She really really w—”
My voice froze abruptly as the telephone rang.
“I’ll get it!”
Dad went racing out to the hall, almost bumping into Caroline on the way. Caroline stood hovering in the doorway. I strained forward on the sofa, my heart hammering. Dad said, “Cass?” And then he leant across and pulled the door shut, forcing Caroline back into the living room. We just heard him say, “Thank God for that!”
Caroline looked across at me and pulled a face.
“Obviously found her. I guess she went to lick her wounds and get a bit of sympathy.”
I couldn’t think what to say. We sat in silence, waiting for Dad to come back. If Caroline hadn’t been there I’d have gone and listened at the door. I couldn’t think why Dad had closed it. Didn’t he want us to hear? Or didn’t he want Caroline to hear? I felt there was something going on between him and Caroline, like when me and Lottie fall out with each other there’s all this prickly kind of tension. But Dad and Caroline hadn’t fallen out! Not as far as I knew.
“I take it you’ve managed to locate her?” said Caroline as Dad reappeared.
“Is she all right?” I leant forward, accidentally squeezing Bella, who gave a protesting yowl. “Dad? Is she OK?”
“Relax,” said Dad. “She’s fine.”
Caroline made a snorting sound, like, “Hmph!”
“Why didn’t Cass answer her phone?”
“Apparently she switched it off yesterday evening when she and Becky went to a show.”
“And didn’t think to switch it on again,” Caroline nodded. “That figures.”
A slight frown rumpled Dad’s brow.
“So why on earth,” said Caroline, “didn’t she call you the minute Emily turned up?”
“She and Becky have been out all morning. They found her waiting for them when they got back. The poor girl had been sitting on the doorstep for hours.”
“And of course she wouldn’t have thought to call and let you know where she was? Just sat there, while we all chewed our nails imagining the worst.”
“She is going to come back?” I said.
“Cass is keeping her overnight. I said we’d go down in the morning and fetch her.”
“Honestly!” Caroline made one of her impatient scoffing noises. “There is simply no excuse for this sort of behaviour! Talk about selfish.”
Dad said, “Being unhappy can make you selfish.”
Caroline turned sharply. “What on earth does she have to be unhappy about?”
“You made her eat goose fat!” I cried.
“Oh, Flora, for goodness’ sake! I didn’t make her, it was a genuine mistake. In any case, it’s hardly any reason to go flouncing off like some spoilt little madam, causing us all this grief and heartache.”
I didn’t honestly think that Caroline had been caused any grief or heartache. Only me and Dad.
“Frankly,” said Dad, “I’m just thankful to know that she’s safe.”
“You shouldn’t have to be thankful. It’s ridiculous! All this fuss over a little bit of goose fat, scarcely enough to taste.”
“I could taste it,” I said.
“Yes, well, you would, wouldn’t you,” said Caroline.
“You tricked us,” I said.
Two angry spots of colour came splashing on to Caroline’s cheeks. “I was just trying to give us a good evening. I thought we might manage to enjoy ourselves for once, without all this hysterical nonsense from Emily.”
I opened my mouth to protest. Someone had to stick up for Em. But Dad had taken me by the shoulders and was gently but very firmly propelling me towards the door.
“Not now, Bitsy.”
“But, Dad,” I said, “I—”
“Not now, Bitsy!”
“But I—”
“Bitsy, please,” said Dad. “This is between me and Caroline.”
I suppose, really, I should have gone up to my room or into the kitchen. Anywhere I couldn’t be tempted to eavesdrop. But how could I help it? This was about Em! I had to know what was going on.
I crouched at the foot of the stairs, ready to spring up and make a dash for it the minute the door opened. I wished I’d brought Bella with me. There is something very comforting about cuddling a cat.
I heard Dad’s voice, like a sort of low rumble. Then Caroline’s, lighter and sharper. Just at first I couldn’t make out what they were saying. They seemed to be having some sort of disagreement. Was it about Em? Was it about me?
I leant forward, straining to hear. Caroline’s voice rose angrily.
“This is absolutely classic! Evil stepmum can’t do anything right!”
Dad’s voice rumbled something in reply.
“If she feels like that,” snapped Caroline, “it might be better if she did go and live with Cass!”
And now Dad’s voice was raised as well. “I’m not having one of my daughters turned out of her own house!”
“Maybe I should be turned out? Is that what you’re saying?”
I couldn’t hear whether it was or not cos Dad’s voice had gone back to its rumbling. He rumbled for some time and when Caroline started speaking again it was very quiet and intense so that now I couldn’t hear either of them.
I went on crouching for a bit longer, but it didn’t seem like they were going to start up again. In the end shame overcame me, or maybe it was just that I couldn’t hear anything any more, so I uncrouched myself and went up to my room. I sat for a while on the bed, toying with my phone, wondering whether to ring Cass. There wasn’t any reason I shouldn’t. I could ring Cass if I wanted!
And then I thought that maybe it would be like betraying Dad, cos I knew if I started talking to Cass it would all come tumbling out, the way words do, like something’s burst and you just can’t stop. Before I knew it I’d be telling her about Dad and Caroline and the things they’d said to each other. But I had to ring someone!
I could ring Lottie. She was at her gran’s, but Lottie’s always eager to chat.
“Lots?” I said. “That you?”
“Dunno,” said Lottie. “Might be. Depends who’s calling.”
“You know who’s calling!”
Lottie giggled. “Might do. Might not.”
“Stop messing around,” I said. “I’ve got stuff to tell you!”
“Ooh, what?” said Lottie. She loves a bit of gossip. Well, who doesn’t? “Tell, tell!”
“I can’t actually say at the moment,” I said.
“Why not?”
“Cos I can’t. I’ll tell you Monday.”
“Oh, please,” begged Lottie. “Tell me now, Bitsy! Please?”
“Can’t,” I said. “My lips are sealed.”
“So why bother ringing me?”
“Thought you’d like something to look forward to.”
“You mean you thought it’d be fun to just wind me up!”
“Well, that too,” I said.
“Grunge bucket!” yelled Lottie.
We rang off, very happy with each other. It’s one of our things, calling each other rude names. Back in Year Six, I used to call Lottie Mistress Mildew. I wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but it seemed like a good name for her. She used to call me Pudding Face. Now I was Grunge Bucket. At least I preferred it to Pudding Face.
I felt a whole lot better after my exchange with Lottie. It was like a bit of normality in the midst of all the upset.
I went back downstairs quite cheerfully, almost managing to forget that Em had run away and that Dad and Caroline had had a fight. I could tell, though, from the atmosphere that they hadn’t made up. Caroline was all tight-lipped and Dad was even more bumbling than usual. It wasn’t at all a comfortable kind of evening. I went to bed, without even having to be told, at nine o’clock. Generally Caroline and I had a bit of a battle about it, but it was like she wasn’t talking to me any more and Dad was reading students’ essays, so I just took myself off.<
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Not even sure anyone noticed.
Next morning, me and Dad drove to Lewes to pick up Em. Caroline stayed behind. She and Dad weren’t really talking, so I guessed they must still be cross with each other. Dad didn’t talk to me very much, either, on the way down. I kept trying to make conversation, like “What a beautiful day it is,” and “Oh, Dad, look at that lovely graveyard,” cos normally he encourages us to comment on things, and I mean, you can’t just sit in total silence mile after mile.
But no matter how hard I tried, Dad didn’t respond. Sometimes he grunted; at other times he didn’t even seem to realise that I’d said anything. I just hoped he was keeping his eyes on the road, cos Dad is so not a good driver.
“Da-a-ad!” I screamed at him, as we whizzed past our turning. “We should have gone left!”
Dad heaved a sigh. “Sorry. Preoccupied. Can I turn round?”
“Dad, no,” I said.
We had to drive on another couple of miles to the next roundabout. Caroline would not have found it amusing. She seemed to have lost all patience with Dad’s absent-mindedness.
Em and Cass were waiting for us at the front door. Em stood uncertainly.
“Sweetheart, it’s all right,” said Dad. He held out his arms and with a stifled sob Em ran into them.
“Where’s Becky?” I said.
“She’s gone to open up the shop. Come inside.”
We followed Cass indoors.
“You two girls wait there,” said Dad. “I just need a quick word with your aunt.”
Em and I perched awkwardly on a couple of stools in the kitchen.
“Dad and Caroline had a row,” I said.
Em immediately looked apprehensive. “About what?”
I almost said “About you!”, but just in time I managed to bite the words back. I do occasionally stop to think before I speak.
“Dunno,” I said. “But they’re not talking.”
“Is that why she didn’t come with you?”
“I guess.”
Em bit her lip.
“We’d have got here sooner,” I said, “if Caroline had been driving. Know that bit at the bottom of the hill where we have to make a left? Dad went and missed it! So then he wanted to do a U-turn! I had to stop him. You’re not allowed to do U-turns,” I said. “Not on that road. You’d think he’d have learnt by now.”
“He needs a satnav,” said Em.
“Knowing Dad, he’d probably end up at John o’Groats.”
“Don’t be cross with him,” begged Em. “He can’t help it!”
It wasn’t what Caroline would have said. Caroline would have said he was a grown man and ought to start being a bit more responsible. She’d been saying a lot of things like that just recently.
“Hey, I looked after Bella for you,” I said.
“Thank you,” said Em humbly.
“I let her sleep on my bed. Don’t think she likes it as much as yours, though. She’ll be ever so pleased to see you!”
Em gave a faint, watery smile, after which we both lapsed into silence.
We still didn’t really talk much on the way home. Em sat in front with Dad, keeping an eye on the road, while I sat in the back and racked my brains for things to say and couldn’t think of any.
On the outskirts of Brighton, Dad suggested we stop somewhere for Sunday lunch.
“That would be fun,” he said, “wouldn’t it?”
I agreed that it would. It was Em who said, “What about Caroline?”
“Don’t worry about Caroline,” said Dad.
“But she likes us all to sit down as a family!”
“She won’t mind. Let’s go and look for one of those veggie places Cass is always banging on about.”
When we arrived home we found Bella asleep on the kitchen table. Em swooped on her immediately. As she did so, an envelope went skating to the ground.
“Ooh, what’s that?” I snatched at it. “Dad, it’s for you!”
Dad said, “Yes. It’ll be from Caroline.”
“Aren’t you going to read it?”
“I can guess what it says. But all right, if you want me to.”
Dad opened the envelope and took out a sheet of paper. I could see that there wasn’t much on it, just a few lines in Caroline’s neat handwriting. Em and I stood waiting, watching Dad’s face, trying to guess what it was about.
“Well.” Dad put the sheet of paper back in the envelope. “That’s it. Caroline and I are no longer together.”
“Dad!” Em’s face puckered.
“Sweetheart, don’t cry. It’s not your fault!” Dad put one arm round Em, the other round me. He pulled us close. “It’s nobody’s fault. These things happen.”
“But you loved her!” Em choked. “You loved her so much!”
“I did,” said Dad. “A bit blindly, perhaps. Like some teenager with a crush. I should have seen that we weren’t really right for each other. Caroline’s a businesswoman. She’s sharp, she’s practical and I’m just a silly, bumbling professor. I don’t blame her for losing patience with me.”
“I do!” I declared it very fiercely.
Dad smiled. “You only say that because I’m your dad. Caroline tried her best. So did you and Em! Things just didn’t work out.”
“It’s not because I wouldn’t eat meat?” whispered Em.
“Absolutely not! That is entirely your choice. Nobody else’s.”
“Is Caroline still here?” I said. I stared round the kitchen, as if she might appear at any moment.
“It’s all right, you’re safe,” said Dad. “Caroline’s gone. She’s moving in with a friend. She’ll come by and pick up her stuff in a day or so.”
“Oh, Dad, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Em flung both arms round Dad’s neck. “I so wanted you to be happy!”
“I know you did,” said Dad. “You both did. But how could I be happy unless we all were?”
“We could have tried more,” said Em.
“No.” Dad shook his head. “I think you’ve both tried hard enough. There comes a point where one just has to accept that it’s over. You’ve reached the end of the road.”
Eagerly I said, “Does that mean Cass will be coming back?”
Em gave me such a look! Like, How dare you sound so cheerful when poor Dad is suffering?
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry to disappoint you,” said Dad, “but we can’t possibly ask Cass to throw everything up for a second time just to come and mother us. It wouldn’t be fair. Not now she’s got her life all settled. From this point on,” said Dad, “it’s up to us. We’re going to have to manage on our own. The three of us, together. Do you think we can do that?” Dad looked at us solemnly. “Do you think we’re capable of being real grown-up people who can take care of themselves?”
“Absolutely!” said Em.
Dad said, “Bitsy? How about you?”
Em prodded at me. I said, “Yes! Absolutely!”
I hadn’t actually meant that Cass should come back just to look after us. We could look after ourselves! It was just that I really did miss her. But I knew that Dad was anxious.
“No problem,” I said. “I can do the cooking, Em can do the housework!”
“Don’t quite see why I have to do the housework,” said Em.
“Cos you’re better at it than I am and, anyway, you can’t cook!”
“What about me?” said Dad. “What shall I do?”
I said, “You can put the bins out every week.”
“Is that all?”
“Well, and you could make the beds,” I said. “You must know how to make beds!”
Dad was starting to look more cheerful. “I think I could manage that,” he said. “And I’m a dab hand at washing-up! I might even be able to manage a bit of ironing.”
“We’ll write it all down,” I said. “Who does what. So the place will look lovely when you bring your next girlfriend home.”
“Oh, Bitsy, I don’t know whether I shall ever have another girlfriend,”
said Dad.
“You will!” Em said it very fiercely. “We’ll make sure you do!”
“Yes, cos you deserve it,” I said.
“Well, we shall see,” said Dad. “If it happens, it happens.”
But only, as I pointed out to Em when we talked about it later on, if we did something to make it happen.
“It’s no use just sitting back and doing nothing.”
“So what do you suggest?” said Em.
“Well …”
“What?” Em sat scrunched up on my bed, with Bella in her arms. “Tell me!”
“I think we should invite Polly to dinner,” I said. “Like Dad invited Caroline? We’ll invite Polly!”
“Mm …”
I could see Em turning it over in her mind.
She nodded slowly. “We could, I suppose.”
“Why not? She’s our friend! And Dad likes her.”
“Caroline said she was mousy.”
“That’s only Caroline’s stupid opinion! Dad said she has a good brain.”
“He did, didn’t he?” Em brightened. “And they do get on well.”
“And Polly doesn’t have anyone.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“And Dad doesn’t, either. It’s a perfect match! All we have to do is get them together.”
“You mean outside college?”
“Exactly!”
Em rocked to and fro as she thought about it. Weighing it up. Trying to decide. “Do you really think it could work?”
“No harm in giving it a go. Never get anywhere,” I said, “if you don’t give things a go.”
“That’s true.”
“So shall we do it?”
“Yes!” Em thrust her hair behind her ears. “Let’s do it! I’ll call Polly and fix a date.”
“A date for Dad!”
“When shall we arrange it for?”
“Friday? That’ll give us time to tidy up.”
“Don’t need to tidy up,” said Em. “Polly doesn’t care about things like that. Her place is like ours used to be before Caroline came.”
“You mean cosy.”
“Comfortable.”
We beamed at each other. I had a feeling that this was going to go well.
“So what shall we give her to eat?”
“Something veggie.”
“Mock steak and kidney!”