by Kit Eyre
Dawn was muted, a few rays of sunlight cracking through the clouds long enough to splash over a few window panes and that was all. The walk into town was punctuated by the odd car trundling past her, but otherwise the streets were empty. None of the shops had opened by the time she stepped into the precinct. Shutters had been raised on the bakery and the charity shop, almost by magic since there were no other humans around. It was like being sucked into another world where she could sit under the canopy of the bargain shop opposite the café and wait for some signal that she wasn’t completely alone.
‘Hey, you’re freezing. What are you doing here?’
She jumped, raising an arm to shield herself then finding Ed gazing down at her. No words were forming in her throat, so she just allowed him to pull her up like a ragdoll and steer her across the street to the café. It must’ve been tricky for him to unlock the door and disable the alarm with her weight against him, but she couldn’t force herself upright. He walked her over to the nearest table and deposited her in the chair before shrugging out of his coat and wrapping it around her shoulders instead. The scent of his aftershave around the collar brought a fresh round of tears to her eyes that became even harder to contain when he kneeled in front of her and rested a hand on her cheek.
‘Has someone hurt you?’ he questioned.
‘No,’ she murmured.
‘That’s – that’s good.’ He paused and searched her face. ‘So, what is it? What’s going on? Have you had a row with your gran or something?’
‘I stayed at Mum’s last night.’
‘Have you had a row with her?’ he pressed.
She shook her head, but that unleashed the tears from her eyes as well. They splashed everywhere, landing on her cheeks and catching in Ed’s beard, until the deluge was over. He moved long enough to get some paper towels from behind the counter then pulled a chair up beside her.
‘Tell me what’s wrong, Ames,’ he said, rubbing circles into her wrist.
‘Everything,’ she whispered.
‘Like what?’
‘Like . . . Mum and Max.’
He frowned. ‘How do you mean?’
Amy squinted at their hands and the way one of his covered almost both of hers. She could feel the slender scars along his thumb from a soufflé gone wrong, jarring against her skin then giving way to the furrows of his thumbprint. The mechanical motion soothed her until he squeezed her hand and let go.
‘Give me a few minutes to get everything warmed up and I’ll get you a coffee,’ he said.
She clutched at his arm. ‘Wait, I need to ask you something.’
‘Go on then,’ he replied with a lilt in his voice. ‘It’s all right. Whatever it is, it’s all right.’
‘Do you just feel sorry for me? Is that – why you – you’re not –’
‘Whoa, whoa, hang on, is that what you think?’
More tears congregated in her eyes and she took a swipe at them with her sleeve.
‘Oh, Amy . . . Come here.’
Even though she tried to block him, he managed to tuck one arm around her neck and the other one followed. Warm against his shoulder, still in the cocoon of his coat, she gave into the shuddering and cried herself out. Only when she’d stopped sobbing did he pull away slightly and stroke her hair.
‘You’re an idiot,’ he said.
She sniffed and reached for the stack of papers towels on the table. ‘Thanks.’
‘Well, we both are. I mean, I was trying not to push it, that’s all.’
‘You don’t have to –’
‘Listen for a minute,’ he cut in, tilting her face towards his. ‘I’ve got to say this otherwise I’ll make a bigger idiot of myself. It’s what I said right back at the start, remember? About being damned if I do and damned if I don’t. All right, you’re eighteen and that makes it all right legally and all that, but it’s not just about ticking a box and getting it over with. You’ve got enough going on in your head, what with college and everything. I was trying not to lay the pressure on more. I wanted it to be right, I didn’t want to scare you off.’
His eyes were bright and honest. That was what she’d liked about him from the beginning, even if she’d been aware she was never completely honest with him. The half-truths that shielded the truth from Biddy and Max had transferred onto him as a matter of course.
‘My first time was a nightmare,’ he continued with a wry smile. ‘My dad had not long died and I was looking to be normal again. You know how it is. Last thing I wanted was to be pushing you to make the same mistake I did. I’m sorry if I went about it the wrong way, but I was trying to do the right thing. I should’ve asked, only I wasn’t sure how that conversation would’ve worked. I’m not good at this.’
‘You seem to be,’ she murmured.
Ed leaned forward to press a kiss to her lips. ‘I’m muddling through it like everyone does. I’m not making a perfect job of it by any stretch, but I do love you.’
The words seemed to stick in the air before sinking into her head. She couldn’t conjure up a response that didn’t sound too much like reality television so she just burrowed back into his neck instead. Then she stiffened and pulled away.
‘I’m not going to Durham,’ she said.
He frowned. ‘You’re not staying here on my account, no chance.’
‘No, I can’t go to Durham. You don’t understand.’
‘Try me,’ he replied, stroking her cheek.
‘You can’t – you can’t go to a university you haven’t applied for.’
His eyebrows contracted then he urged her back into his arms. The simple act of saying nothing brought a wave of relief crashing over her and, slowly, she became aware that she was shivering, that the café was cold and her eyes were stinging.
‘What was that about coffee?’ she mumbled.
Ed chuckled. He drew back and kissed her forehead then stood and went about getting the machine working and the room warmed up. She watched everything he did, every practiced motion that he instigated with a gentle touch. It was only since getting to know him that she’d understood not everyone had the same attitude towards making coffee and baking cakes. Other people in the chain shops around town just punched buttons and passed over the results. Ed made it look like an artform.
By the time he brought two coffees over, she could look at him properly. Anything she’d imagined about him rejecting her the moment he found out about Durham vanished with his small grin and she tucked her hands around her cup while she worked out how to explain. It took several minutes, but he pretended to be fascinated by the sprinkles on his cappuccino. The moment she started talking, all his attention was on her.
‘I don’t know what I’m going to do. I kept thinking that, if I just carried on, it’d be okay, but then Mr Cowper said he couldn’t endorse my application, that I’m not going to get the grades. I’ll pass Law, just not with an A*. Anyway, it’s almost guaranteed that I failed the LNAT, so I just didn’t bother trying to apply. There would’ve been no point.’
‘Not to be daft, but what’s the LNAT?’ Ed asked.
‘It’s the national test you do to get on a Law degree. I probably muddled through the multiple choice – I couldn’t get them all wrong – but I froze during the essay. I just couldn’t write it, I only got a couple of paragraphs written and then I lost it.’
Ed rubbed her shoulder. ‘Why?’
‘Because Dennis Cowper was right,’ she answered. ‘I don’t like Law. I think I hate it, actually.’
Saying the words aloud set off a bomb inside her head. The roar drowned out Ed’s response and it took him scooping her into his arms for the noise to fade. He dropped a few kisses on her head then waited until her trembling had subsided before speaking again.
‘You wanted to do it because of your dad, didn’t you?’
She nodded into his chin. ‘Like you did.’
‘Oh, sweetie . . . Difference is, I love this place. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have sunk everything into it, I definitely wouldn�
��t have borrowed anything off your dad to keep afloat. If I’d kept it on as a memorial, it would’ve gone under anyway.’
‘I thought I could be a good lawyer, I thought that’s what he wanted.’
Ed sighed and leaned back to look at her. ‘Did he ever outright say that? Come on, he loved you and you could’ve been a window cleaner for all he cared, so long as you were happy.’
‘Even if that were true . . . It’s gone too far now, hasn’t it? Biddy’s set on it, I don’t know how to tell her that I’ve messed up. She’ll hate me.’
‘I know I’ve never met her, but that’s not likely. It’s only a job.’
Amy snickered. ‘It’s more than that.’
‘But it’s not happening,’ he said gently. ‘There’s no way you can carry on with the lie. It’s not in your control.’
‘I know, I know that.’
‘So, you need a plan, that’s all I’m saying. What about telling your mum and Max first?’
‘I tried that last night,’ she said, reaching for her coffee. ‘Mum doesn’t care. It’s all about the election for her and I’d better not get in her way.’
‘If she knew the truth –’
‘Then she’ll really hate me for screwing up her life again.’
‘What’s all this about hate?’ Ed questioned.
‘It’s accurate,’ she replied.
He caressed her cheek. ‘No one could hate you, especially not your mum.’
‘I’m a liar,’ she said.
‘You’ve only got caught up in it. It looks like you can’t get out, but you can. Just start telling the truth and it’ll right itself. And I’m not going anywhere,’ he added with a smile. ‘There’s nothing you could tell me that’d change that.’
Amy met his gaze, knowing he meant it. But the words still stuck on her tongue and all she managed to do was kiss him again. The look on his face when they separated brought with it a fresh pang – he thought she’d told him everything.
Chapter 23
Impending fatherhood was as good a reason as any for Drew to be out in the cab well away from Max. That left her covering switchboard most days, keeping busy with the kettle and her Stephen Kings while the weather went from sleet to sun outside. The customers who came in direct through the day were usually eager to just get home, so she avoided most conversation beyond calling that their cabs were outside. She liked the solitude; it was a welcome break from all the talk of the election she had swirling around her head whenever she was near Valerie.
Mid-morning on Monday, she was surprised to find Ed walking into the office. He didn’t look like he’d come for a taxi, not with only a t-shirt on and flour sprinkled over his chin, so she let him straight into the back and gestured to the sofa.
‘Want a brew?’
‘Yeah, that’d be great, cheers.’
It took a couple of minutes to get done – not helped by the switchboard deciding to ring off the hook for a bit – then she transferred over to the sofa to sit next to him. Something about his body language told her this wasn’t going to be a casual chat across the office.
‘Have you and Amy had a row?’ she asked.
‘No, no, we’re cool.’
‘So, what’s going on?’
He scratched his beard. ‘I’m worried for her. I’m not trying to break her trust, but I don’t know what to do for the best.’
‘I know there’s something not right about her at the minute.’
‘It’s more than just now,’ he admitted.
Max watched his fidgeting then took a gulp of scorching tea. ‘Have you got her into trouble?’
‘What? No, of course not. We haven’t – not till – I mean, no. No.’
‘Thank God for that,’ she muttered. ‘Then what do you mean that it’s not just now?’
Ed sipped his coffee slowly. ‘It’s her career, all this Law rubbish. It’s not what she wants to be doing with herself, I don’t think it’s right.’
‘You don’t or she doesn’t?’ Max questioned.
From the way he dipped his chin, he didn’t want to answer that, which was the answer in itself. Max scrubbed at her forehead and thought back over the past few months. Given what he’d just said, Amy’s attitude was starting to make more sense. The closer she’d got to the whole Law dream kicking in, the worse she’d felt. Valerie’s words about being proud the other night were meant well, but Max could see how they might’ve looked to Amy. She took another gulp of tea as Ed raised his eyes, wondering what to say.
‘Have I done the wrong thing?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘Just not sure what to do with it, that’s all. You’ve told me this in confidence, so I can’t outright talk to her about it. Not that I’m sure I’d know how.’
‘It’d be better you than Valerie. With the election and everything, she thinks she doesn’t care about her.’
‘No, that’s rubbish,’ Max said.
‘I tried telling her that,’ replied Ed with a weak smile. ‘But maybe that’s the way in, I don’t know. If Valerie’s okay with it, maybe she’ll let it go.’
After work, Max went for a drive instead of going straight back to Geith Place.
It was funny that, however many of her shirts were hung up in the wardrobe, she never felt like she was going home. Mind you, her pokey flat wasn’t much more than somewhere to get some kip either. If she stopped to think about it, the last time she’d felt like she was going home was when she lived with Bea.
Driving with the window down and the cold sweeping through the car cleared her head a bit. She did another loop around the bypass then turned in the direction of Valerie’s, getting there the same time as the hailstones did. It was a surprise to find the BMW already snug in the double garage, engine cold. It wasn’t like Valerie to be home much before eleven most days. Max let herself in through the utility room, only to find a beer bottle being waved in front of her.
‘You’re late,’ Valerie said.
‘You’re early,’ Max replied.
Valerie pressed the bottle into her hands. ‘Stalemate. How about we discuss it over dinner? I found this wonderful little butcher while I was canvassing today. That’s why I had to come straight back – I couldn’t have the steak going off on the back seat. Supporting local businesses and getting a good meal inside both of us is a price worth paying for a few lost hours. Sit down, sit down.’
She was shunted into a chair before she could say anything then Valerie was across the kitchen pulling steaks from the fridge and humming ‘Ode to Joy’ out of tune. It was only when the meat was sizzling that she turned around to flash one of her bright smiles. Max tried to mirror it, but her lips wouldn’t stretch.
‘What’s wrong?’ Valerie asked.
‘I need to talk to you.’
The ease drained out of her face. ‘Why? What’s the matter?’
‘Just something . . .’ Max stood and tucked her arms behind her back. ‘Look, Ed came to see me about Amy earlier.’
‘Amy?’ Valerie repeated. ‘I thought – Well, what did he say?’
‘He’s worried about her, like we are. From what she’s said to him, it looks like she’s not all that keen on being a lawyer and it’s getting to her.’
Valerie exhaled and turned around to tend the steaks. ‘I can’t say I’m surprised. I always thought it was a reaction to Tim and Clarice rather than a genuine love of the profession. She could do it if she wanted to, of course she could, but I’d rather she did something she was passionate about.’
‘Any chance you could tell her that?’ Max questioned.
‘It’s a little late for that. She’s applied, she’s going to Durham or another excellent university to study Law. That’s all there is to it.’
Max squinted at her back. ‘Hang on, she can change her mind. It’s not set in stone that’s what she’s doing.’
‘It might as well be. She knew what she was getting into, you know. There were plenty of opportunities to turn back before we got to this stage and
she kept right on. She told me she knew what she wanted then and she needs to follow through on it now.’
‘That’s a bit harsh for a teenager.’
Valerie twisted to face her, looking exasperated more than anything. ‘You don’t understand that world. Clarice has told everyone about her successful granddaughter following in her son’s footsteps. Amy knows that and she won’t let her down. She daren’t.’
‘Daren’t?’ Max echoed.
‘Perhaps that’s the wrong word. What I mean is that Amy cares too much about Clarice to risk hurting her. As heartless as it sounds, that’s not a permanent problem and then she can extricate herself if she truly wishes to.’
With a shrug, Valerie’s attention returned to her cooking. Max was speechless for a minute, watching her carry on as if she hadn’t just basically said her daughter was stuck with her choices until Clarice died. Even while the smell of succulent beef drifted round the kitchen, Max couldn’t tear her gaze away from the back of Valerie’s head. It went unnoticed for so long that her disbelief worked its way up to her throat.
‘Okay, so I don’t understand that world – as you put it – but I know what it’s like to be pushed into something you don’t want. If I’d followed what my dad wanted, I’d have probably had a leg blown off in Iraq.’
Valerie shook her head. ‘That’s entirely different. You didn’t take all the steps towards making his dream a reality. Amy did.’
‘She’s eighteen!’
‘Yes, that makes her an adult,’ Valerie snapped, spinning on her heel with the spatula clenched in her hand. ‘That means taking responsibility, doesn’t it? I had to when I was her age. So did you, come to that. If she wants advice, if she wants help, why doesn’t she come direct to me, hmm? She talks to Ed, he talks to you, you talk to me. It’s ridiculous.’
Max just stared at her again, but Valerie growled.
‘Don’t look at me like that. I told you on Saturday – we need to get through the next few months without anything going wrong. All it takes is one slip and it’s done with, the whole thing’s gone. They’ll pick up on anything – that’s what these vultures do. Only a few months more, Max. That’s all.’