FOURTEEN - JEN

I MOVED HOME. IT FELT surreal, like I’d only been trying out being an adult and had failed.

My room was how I’d left it, posters still on the walls, teddies piled up on the armchair in the corner.

“Did you leave it as some kind of shrine?” I asked, turning to face Mum and Dad who were on the landing behind me.

“I had my bedroom turned into an office when I moved out,” Mum said. “I promised I’d never do that to you two.”

“So Snotbrain’s bedroom is still the same too?”

“Don’t call your sister that.”

“But that’s her name.”

“No it isn’t, as you know.”

Dad sighed. “It’s like you never left. Now come and have a cup of tea and let’s talk.”

I told them everything, omitting only the more lurid elements. They listened in silence as I cried my way through the worst parts. When I was done, Mum just got up and gave me an enormous hug. I sobbed into her chest as Dad sat quietly behind her, waiting.

“You can stay for as long as you like,” he said at last.

So I settled back in like I’d never left.

I’d given notice at Bailey Inc. and because I had some holidays left over, I used them instead of working my notice. I was able to leave after a single day back at work, most of it spent in H.R and payroll, sorting out the details.

There was no rush to get another job. I had no bills while I was at home, my parents refusing to take any rent from me despite my offers. “You’re our daughter,” they said. “What would it say about us if we took money from you?”

The nights were the worst. Through the day I was able to keep busy, helping Mum with her sewing or working with Dad on his vegetable patch in the back garden. But at night it was just me in my bedroom, alone with my thoughts.

That was when the heavy weight in my chest would make itself known, my heart hurting so much as I dwelled on what I’d done, on what I’d gone through.

I missed him. That was the saddest part of the whole thing. I missed him and there was no point denying it.

He might have just used me, he might not have cared about me but that didn’t stop me caring about him. I wanted to be with someone who was probably laughing about me at that very moment.

Will didn’t even try and get in touch. That hurt the most. I told myself to get over him, that he wasn’t worth my pain. It made no difference. I wanted him, I wanted his touch on me, his lips on mine, his body wrapped around me when I lay on my side at night. There was a gaping absence in my life and it was hell.

It was four months after I’d moved home when Dad asked if he could talk to me. Mum was out at the shops and was bringing back the ingredients to make my favourite upside down cake, hoping to cheer me up.

“Have you got a second?” Dad asked, sticking his head around the door of the living room. “Or is it a good bit?”

I put my book down and sat up. “What’s up?”

“Mind if I come in?”

“It’s your house, Dad.”

“I know that, dear, but you might want your privacy.”

“I’d rather have your company.”

He nodded, walking in and settling in his armchair by the window. He looked outside for a few seconds before turning, a serious expression on his face, one that I didn’t see very often. It meant a talk was coming. We’d had a few in my life. But this time when he began to speak, he surprised me by not talking about me but talking about himself. That never happened.

“I almost lost your mother,” he began.

I didn’t answer. I had no idea what to say.

He continued a moment later. “It was about a year after you’d moved out and I don’t know, I think I’d been taking her for granted for a while. You’ll get like this when you’ve been with someone a long time. Sometimes you get complacent.

Anyway, she started talking about divorce and I had no idea she was even thinking about it. It was a hell of a shock, Jen.”

“I had no idea,” I said, seeing the pain in his eyes despite his attempts to hide it.

“She’s the best thing that ever happened to me and I nearly lost her because I got lazy. Now, I know, I know. You’re thinking, what the hell has this got to do with me?”

“I wasn’t thinking that.”

“You were and that’s fine. The point I’m trying to make is that I love your mother and it took nearly losing her for me to remember.”

I nodded slowly.

“I know what love is,” he said. “I know what you’re feeling about this Will of yours.”

“Dad-”

“Let me finish, please, then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”

“All right, go on.”

“Thanks. You fell for a man who did you wrong.”

“I never said I’d fallen for him.”

“I might be old, Jen, but I’m not an idiot. You’re in love with him and if you can’t see that, then maybe I didn’t raise you right.”

“But what if I do love him? What does it matter now? It’s over.”

“That’s my point. I thought it was over. I thought I’d lost your mother and that was when I chose to step up and be a man. You need to do the same.”

“You want me to be a man?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Grow a beard? Develop an interest in model trains, that kind of thing?”

“Exactly. That or talk to Will.”

“I don’t get it. Why should I talk to him? He hasn’t even tried to ring.”

“That’s not strictly true.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“About a week after you moved back, he rang the house, spoke to your mother.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now. If you’d spoken to him then, you’d have told him to go to hell and that would have ruined everything. You’ve needed time on your own to think and before you protest, you know I’m right.”

“Maybe,” I said, scowling at him. “Maybe not.”

“You can hate me, that’s fine. Doesn’t change how I feel about you. And you can hate Will for what happened too. Or you could talk to him and see if you can forgive him for what happened. Your mother forgave me for neglecting our love. Look where we are now. That could be you.”

“Fighting over the remote control?”

“And being in love with the person of your dreams.”

I didn’t answer. It was a hell of a lot to take in.

“You don’t have to do anything now,” he said, getting to his feet. “But at least think about it. I knew a guy once who didn’t make the call I’m suggesting and he spent the rest of his life regretting it. I said I’d never be him and I’d hate for you to be him either. I love you, Jen, I want you to be happy and I can tell how happy he made you.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said, picking up my book and not taking in a word of it for the next hour. I was still on the same page when Mum got home with the shopping.

“Are you all right?” she asked when I came into the kitchen to help her unpack. “You look pale.”

“I think I need to talk” I said. “If you’ve got time to listen.”