Speaking of being personal, I think back to everything we’ve said about Max and Terence. It’s easy to see why Nick wouldn’t mention that he’s related to the tyrants. Would I have judged him for it? I’d like to think not, but the fact that I hope he’s got his mum’s genes instead of his dad’s probably means I would have.
All of which is to say that I understand why he kept his family connection secret from me, even with the strife it caused. Of all people, I know how it feels not to measure up. It’s almost more insulting that Max rewrote his CV to give him those grades. He was embarrassed by his own son. That’s just wrong.
What’s still hard to overlook, though, is what he did to June. That was a boneheaded move. Plus, it was selfish. He should have told the truth and let June decide how to handle Callum. He should have taken those consequences.
Yet he did just confess to flunking at life. It’s not like I haven’t felt that way too. And he will come clean with June. I suppose if she can forgive him, then it’s a bit pointless for me to hold a grudge on her behalf.
He’s still watching me through the window. ‘Come out,’ I tell him.
When he steps back into the garden, he looks like he’s facing a firing squad. ‘Can I please say something?’
‘Yes.’
‘Phoebe, I’m not even sure whether I’d forgive me if I were you. I’d love to tell you that of course I would, and try to convince you. But I don’t know if what I’ve done, with the way I’ve made everyone feel, is forgivable. I guess I just want you to know that it seemed like such a miracle when we got together. I’ve been mad for you, but I never dared dream you’d feel the same. Especially after the supper club.’
I wince at that.
‘I’ve been so afraid of losing everything,’ he goes on. ‘My job, everyone’s good opinion, but most of all, you.’ He laughs, but there’s no joy in it. ‘Ironic, isn’t it? Because that’s exactly what I’m afraid I’ve done. I was stupid, and wrong, not to mention unfair. To you and to June.’ When he grasps my hands, I let him. ‘I’m not asking you to forgive me, but I hope that you can at least understand why I hid the truth.’
I inspect his expression in the glow of the moonlight. There’s no hope in it. There’s only sadness, in the downward turn of his lips, in his lined brow and glistening eyes. I realise that I’m barely breathing.
He waits.
Finally, I say, ‘As long as we’re being completely honest, you need to know a few things.’
He braces himself.
‘What you did was wrong. The way you treated me was wrong and I don’t deserve that. I deserve honesty and respect. That’s not to say I don’t understand your reasons, just that I didn’t deserve your actions.’
‘I know.’
‘So you’d better not even think of treating me that way again.’
His face brightens the tiniest bit. ‘I promise I won’t.’
‘You should also know that I can’t stand your sister. I mean I really hate her.’
‘I’ve gathered that from every word you’ve ever said about her.’
‘Even aside from her personality,’ I go on, ‘and that’s bad enough, she’s the most useless person I’ve ever had to deal with. Plus, she’s rude. I’m surprised she didn’t just tell me that she’s your sister. She’d have enjoyed spilling your secret to watch you squirm.’
But Nick shakes his head. ‘She probably enjoyed making you jealous to watch you squirm more.’
‘What an absolute nightmare! That little—’
‘Sister,’ he quickly finishes for me. ‘I know. She’s been that way her whole life. If it helps, she’ll be gone soon. She’s talking about going to London to live with a friend. Framlingham is too small for her ambitions.’
I nod. ‘She’s better off in London. There’s probably better bandwidth there for her phone… but you don’t have any plans for London, do you?’
His eyes search mine. Then he allows himself a tiny smile. ‘I’d like to think I’ve got too much keeping me here to even think about leaving it. Do I?’
‘I hope you do.’
We’re both grinning at each other now. It feels so good to do that again.
Chapter 26
The joy is short-lived, though, because when June hears Nick’s explanation, she’s not nearly as forgiving as I was. ‘His entire job here has been a lie,’ June says. ‘This is a valid HR issue.’ We’ve been going round and round about it.
‘Yes, but he didn’t know what Max did until after he started, did he, so he didn’t lie to get the job. It’s Max you should be angry with.’
‘I am angry with Max,’ she says. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got enough to go around the whole family. I’m not sacking Nick because of the lie. I’m sacking him because he’s not qualified. I would never have hired a candidate with only a pass. That’s the issue.’
‘And you’re sure it has nothing to do with his talking to Callum.’
‘Give me some credit for being professional, Phoebe. That’s a reason to dislike him personally, not to sack him.’
‘Sorry, I was only checking. What about extenuating circumstances, like how good he actually is at his job? You can’t deny how much he’s helped the residents. He got Dot back on her feet in record time and that’s not even part of his job. He’s not a physical therapist. Look at what he’s doing for Laney. And for Sophie. That man does Zumba. Talk about going above and beyond. Who cares if his grades weren’t great?… I didn’t even go to uni and you hired me.’ This is playing dirty. June knows how sensitive I am about it.
She shakes her head. ‘Nice try, but that’s completely different. You did get your qualification from catering college, and did well, if I remember. I hired you fair and square, based on a true account of your qualifications, not because you’re a mate. Unlike Nick.’
Nick’s not expecting to keep his job. He’s resigned to his fate. I’m the one who can’t let it go. So far, June’s not budging.
I can’t even use the weekend to try softening her up over drinks because I’ve got go to Dad’s. He rang yesterday – ‘Phoebe, this is your father’ – just to see how I am. That’s a sure sign that he’s lonely.
My brother is at the house when I get there. He’s sitting with his phone on the arm of one of the chairs in the great room.
‘Hey.’ Will looks up from his screen. ‘What did you bring for dinner?’
‘Nice to see you too. I’ve got chicken stuffed with ham and cheddar or aubergine lasagne.’
‘There’s cheese in both. I’m trying to stay away from dairy.’
Glad to know I’m running a restaurant for my brother. ‘Then scrape the cheese out of the chicken or get takeaway.’ Dad didn’t mention that Will would be home too. Not that I mind. It’s just unusual. Nice, actually.
‘How’s the job hunt going?’ I ask him.
‘I’ve got a few options. Nothing solid yet, but I’m not worried.’
‘You know, Will, you don’t have to act tough with me. You can be yourself.’ When he raises his eyebrows, I go on. ‘I do know what it’s like to be out of work. I know how that feels.’
But he shakes his head. ‘It’s different for me.’
I bristle at that. ‘Why, because your job is so important and mine wasn’t?’ I may as well be talking to Mum.
His mouth drops open. ‘No, Phoebe! You don’t really think that, do you? I’d kill to be in your shoes, to get to do whatever you wanted. You never let their opinions bother you. Just try being the one who’s always got to be perfect.’
That makes my mouth drop open. ‘Just try being the one who’s never perfect enough! And you’re delusional if you think our parents’ opinions never mattered to me.’
‘You’ve always stood up for yourself.’
‘Hmph, not always. It wasn’t worth fighting over the same thing all the time.’ Then I tell him all about how angry I’ve been at Mum since she died. ‘I might have stood up for myself, but I should have done it more. I should have made her stop
making me feel like a failure just because I didn’t measure up to her ideals. It’s not my fault that she wanted to go to uni and be CEO of a huge company. It’s not fair to foist that on me, on us, just because she didn’t manage to live her own dreams.’
‘It was bloody unfair! Though now you know she was proud of you,’ he points out. ‘Or else she wouldn’t have kept that scrapbook.’
‘Sure, now I know that. But what about all the years when it would have mattered more? Or these past months when I’ve been so furious with her? She could have saved me a lot of angst if she’d just told me while she was alive.’
His tiny smile is wry. ‘At least she screwed us both up. I thought it was just me. I’m glad it wasn’t. Sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry. I know exactly what you mean.’
This might be the first time in my life that I feel close to my brother. I guess, in a roundabout way, that’s thanks to Mum.
Dinner passes easily around the dining table. It’s too chilly now to sit in the garden. Will even remembers to ask about my award. I like this new, unemployed brother of mine. ‘My sister’s a superhero,’ he says. ‘Does that mean you wore your pants on the outside when you collected the award?’
‘Only because I was wearing my cape. Otherwise it would have looked stupid.’
‘Mum would have loved seeing that,’ he says. We share a smile.
‘She would have been proud of you that night,’ Dad adds.
‘Are you saying she wasn’t proud of me all the time?’ I’m half teasing. It’s new territory to think she was proud of me at all.
‘No,’ he says, ‘she wasn’t.’
‘Wow, harsh, Dad,’ says Will. ‘Tell it like it is.’
‘She wasn’t always proud of you, either, so get down off your high horse. Sometimes she was frustrated by your decisions. Both of you. Mum was a complicated person. Nobody is as cut and dried as you like to make them. We’re not all one thing or all another. That shouldn’t be expected of us.’
He’s talking about Mum, but it applies to everyone. ‘I’m just glad that she was proud of me sometimes.’
Dad shakes his head. He’s making the same face he does when anyone mentions his football team’s biggest rival. ‘How can you think she wasn’t proud of you? You’re her daughter. She encouraged your cooking all your life. She always wanted what was best for you. You’re the one who mistook encouragement for criticism. She pushed you and your brother, and me, and herself to be the best we could. It’s because she believed we could, not because she thought we couldn’t.’
‘I didn’t mistake it, Dad. She was critical of me. I can see now why. She thought she was motivating me, but seriously, don’t deify her just because she’s not here to remind us what she could be like. I loved her too, but she wasn’t known for her compassion.’
At first Dad just stares at me. He’s offended. No one should speak ill of the dead. Especially to someone who loves them.
‘She could be blunt,’ he finally says.
Okay, we’ll call it blunt.
‘Knock knock!’ comes a call from the hallway, startling us. The dishes are cleared from the table but we’re still sitting there. Without Mum to move us into the great room – At least use the sofas that I went to all that trouble to find – we can’t be bothered.
It’s Dad’s neighbour.
‘Hi, Valerie,’ says Dad, who’s clearly not as surprised as we are to see her. It takes a nanosecond to evaluate her, from the top of her dark blonde head – with a haircut that’s so like Mum’s that she must use the same salon – to the tips of her pointy-toed leather boots and all the red lipstick, skinny jeans, trendy top and jewellery in between. I’m like the Terminator, scanning for a match.
Identity confirmed. She’s got keys in her hand. ‘You remember Phoebe and Will?’ says Dad.
‘Of course, hello,’ she says. ‘Did you have a good journey?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ we both politely tell her. Will’s got the same look on his face that I probably do.
‘I just wanted to drop these off,’ she says, holding up a carrier bag. ‘For the fundraiser. If we can get them in the post on Monday, there’ll be plenty of time. Have you dry-cleaned your tux? If you give it to me, I can drop it off. I need to put my dress in anyway.’
Obediently, Dad goes upstairs to fetch his dinner jacket. Mum wouldn’t have liked hearing it called a tux.
‘It’s nice that you can stay the weekend,’ she says. ‘Your dad misses you.’
Will is quicker than I am. ‘It’s nice that he’s got you to keep him company.’
She appraises us both. ‘Yes.’
Dad does offer Valerie a drink, but she doesn’t stay. Good, because we need to talk.
‘She’s had a key for years,’ Dad says when Will brings it up.
‘Yes, in case you or Mum accidentally left the gas on,’ I say. ‘Has she been using her key to let herself in for years?’
‘It’s not a big deal,’ he says.
‘No, Dad, I know it’s not. I’m only teasing. I don’t care if you have a… friend. If you want to spend time with her, then I think that’s nice.’
‘She’s not a friend.’ He sounds tired when he answers.
‘Friend, date,’ I say, ‘whatever you want to call her is fine with us.’
Dad squirms. ‘I don’t know. I can’t really see it now. It has not been that long.’
‘Well, over six months, actually,’ Will says. ‘Not that there’s a time limit on these things. What would Mum say?’ He doesn’t mean it as a challenge, and Dad seems to know that.
He laughs. ‘She’d tell me not to be such a sentimental old goat. She’d want the best for me. She always did.’
‘Well, then, that seems like your answer,’ I say.
‘Maybe.’
Nick rings me before bed. ‘How’s it going? Having fun?’
‘It has been illuminating. I think my dad has a girlfriend, though he won’t admit it to us. The signs are all there.’
‘Is that good?’ Nick asks. ‘Do you feel weird about it?’
‘Not at all. I want him to be happy and it’d be a shame if he was alone for the rest of his life. I don’t know the woman very well, but she’s a neighbour, so he’s known her for years. People need to move on to be happy.’
‘Speaking of which, have you got plans when you get back tomorrow?’
I know he can hear me smiling when I answer. ‘Nope. Just doing laundry.’
‘Can I see you?’
‘You want to help with the laundry?’
‘If that’s how I get to see you, then I’ll bring my fabric softener.’
‘I’m sure we can find something more fun than watching a spin cycle.’ Although with Nick, I’d even enjoy that.
It’s after eight by the time I pull up in front of my flat on Sunday. Will left first thing this morning, but Dad was happy to have him there for a few hours at least, and he claims he’s going to stay the whole week between Christmas and New Year’s. We’ll see if this new, sensitive brother disappears again when he finds a job. For now, I’m enjoying it.
Nick’s car is already out front. ‘Have you been here long? Sorry, I should have rung to say the traffic was bad.’
‘No, not long. Well, only an hour or so. I didn’t want to be late.’
Just like his interview at the home. That seems like so long ago now.
He gallantly takes my overnight bag and the empty cool bag. He doesn’t need to. It’s not like I haven’t carried my own bags nearly my whole life.
I like that he wants to do it, though.
‘Do you want to go out for a drink or something?’ I say. I’ve no idea why. I’m too nervous to drink.
‘It doesn’t matter. I really just want to be with you. I hope that’s okay? It’s that—’
‘It’s okay.’
‘I’ve waited a long time.’
‘An hour, I know.’
‘That’s not what I mean.’
Why am I so n
ervous? This is Nick. Nick. I was about to say that I know him nearly as well as myself. At least I hope I do now.
He takes my hand as soon as we throw ourselves on to my squashy sofa. I always mean to fluff up the pillows on the back but never get around to it. Now, though, when they’re squeezing Nick and I closer, I’m glad I haven’t been house-proud.
‘I need to ask you something, officially,’ he says.
‘That sounds serious.’
‘It is.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘I need to know whether you can completely forgive me for lying to you about Tamsyn and Max.’
‘It wasn’t a— it was a lie of omission. But yes, I understand why you did it, and I forgive you. I’m not sure that June will, though.’
‘That’s okay,’ he says. ‘I’m prepared to take whatever consequences come. You’re the one that I care about, Phoebe. I can probably find another job. I couldn’t find another you.’
He smiles deeply into my eyes as he leans closer. Our lips meet over the squashy sofa cushions, and I feel like I’ve sunk into the most luxurious, perfectly warm bath imaginable. With bubbles and bath salts and scented candles and a cold glass of champagne within reach. It’s perfect.
‘There’s something else,’ he says, breaking off our kiss. ‘I shouldn’t say this, but you may as well know, and I’m done with keeping things in. I’m not saying “I love you” now, because I know it’s too soon and I don’t want to scare you. But I’m telling you that I will say it to you in the future. Just so you know.’
I was wrong before, about the bubbles and bath salts and scented candles and cold glass of champagne being perfect. This is perfect.
‘And just so you know, I’m not telling you now that I love you, either, but I’ll be telling you in the future.’
As our lips meet again, I’ve never been so happy in my life.
Chapter 27
June is getting a worrying amount of satisfaction from feeding old paperwork into the shredder and hearing the whirring scrunch as it has turned into streams of confetti. ‘I could do this for a living,’ she says as the pile grows.
The Not So Perfect Plan to Save Friendship House Page 24