by Hannah Pearl
‘Are you busy today?’ he asked, and I assured him that I had time. Any jobs that he came up with would help distract me from hurting over how easily Eli had walked away from me. ‘I need some shopping,’ Dad said as I opened the door to his house and carried his suitcase up the stairs. ‘I’ve learnt some recipes. I thought we could have a little pre-Christmas meal tonight. Eli said he’d be back around five. We’ll start with cocktails. I’ve got a bottle of Cypriot brandy that we can serve after dinner too.’
I barely had time to wrap Mr King’s earrings and deliver them to him at Picture Perfect where he and Cody were happily chatting about locations and lighting, before Dad met me at my front door and ushered me straight back out with a list and a handful of cotton bags to carry the groceries home in. Ben caught up to me as just before I turned the corner. Thankfully he looked none the worse for his travels. ‘Dad said to tell you that Lily is welcome too. He said to buy an extra box of filo pastry for the Spanakopita. Said you’d know what that meant?’
We said goodbye as he turned right and walked to work, whilst I turned left in search of fresh spinach, feta cheese and olives. Dad had been very specific about several of his ingredients, and I had to ring him three times to check whether I’d found the correct things. Finally spotting the last bunch of mint, lying forlorn and forgotten at the back of the greengrocers’ shelves, I picked it up and hurried to the till, just as a harassed lady in over-sized sunglasses asked the girl behind the counter if she had any fresh mint. I looked in my basket and decided that mine barely qualified for that description. I was about to offer to split it nonetheless when she pushed the glasses to the top of her head, leant forward and began to ask the girl if she knew that her party would be ruined, simply ruined and awful, if she were unable to offer her guests a mojito. When her voice reached a shrill pitch that only dogs and small children would be able to hear, I covered my ears with my hands. Before she could calm down enough for me to approach her, she swirled her scarf around her neck with a flourish and left the store.
When I paid for my purchases I apologised to the girl that she had copped an earful. She waved away my words. ‘If she can’t plan ahead then it serves her right. Though she seemed like she could do with a good drink to loosen her up a bit.’ I had to agree. ‘Good luck to her finding some anywhere else today,’ the girl added. ‘I’m locking up in a minute and we don’t open again for two days. In fact, if you can use any of these,’ she gestured to a box of assorted veg that was bagged up for disposal, ‘seems a shame to waste it.’
I agreed, and when she wouldn’t charge me full price for everything I picked up, I added a couple of coins to the total and handed over some cash. The bags were heavy, and by the time I got back to my road my arms were aching and I was kicking myself for not taking a cab. Dad was pleased with my finds though, and it was worth the effort to see him looking excited about cooking. In fact, it was staggering to see him excited about anything at all.
I made us each a cup of tea, and I watched as he danced around the kitchen chopping spinach and folding filo parcels. He hadn’t moved with so much energy in years. As angry as I was with Eli for walking away, I was grateful to him for the gift that he had given my dad by taking him on holiday. I tried to tell myself that even if Eli didn’t have feelings for me that I would try to accept it and not be too hurt, but I knew I was lying to myself.
Dad slid a tray of small pastries into the oven and handed me an empty mixing bowl to wash. He hummed as he moved around the room, tidying away jars and packets and adding a stack of chopping boards and frying pans to the pile awaiting my attention. I sighed, and he offered to take over. ‘It’s not the washing up,’ I told him. ‘I’m thrilled to see you cooking again.’
‘I lost the hunger for it before, I know,’ he said, putting his arm around me and giving me a quick squeeze. ‘I lost a lot when I lost your mum. My partner, the future I had hoped to have. I’m sorry that I wasn’t in a better place for you and Ben growing up.’ He let go and went in search of a tablecloth. His voice floated out from the back of the cupboard. ‘I have some making up to do, I think. Starting with a Christmas that is actually merry, for once.’
‘You were always there when we needed you,’ I told him but he emerged triumphant, holding a length of golden fabric, and shook his head.
‘Physically maybe, but you have to understand, your mum was the love of my life. When she died, I only got out of bed in the morning because I knew that you needed breakfast and to get to school on time. As you got older and you needed me less, I found it harder to make myself function.’
‘What changed?’ I asked him. ‘You seem so much happier after your holiday.’
‘I’ve been watching you and Ben find your places in the world,’ he told me, picking up a tea-towel and beginning to dry the pile of plates that I’d washed so far. ‘You’ve both found roles that make you happy. I started the holiday as I usually did, wishing that your mum was with me, thinking about how she would have enjoyed sketching the views, painting the beautiful sunsets, and it hurt to be there without her. Then Eli arranged the cooking classes, and at first I was annoyed because I hadn’t agreed to go, but it was actually fun. There were a couple of women there who had recently been widowed themselves.’
‘Did you meet someone?’ I asked, hearing my voice go all squeaky as I said it. ‘If you did, we’d be okay with that,’ I assured him, though in truth even the thought of it felt strange.
‘I didn’t meet anyone,’ he continued, and for a second I had to admit that I was relieved, until I realised that this meant that he was still on his own and I began to feel guilty. ‘One of them had been widowed for a few years, and like me, she was still struggling with missing her partner, feeling guilty for enjoying life without them. Her friend though had only lost her husband a couple of months earlier, after a long illness. She was much younger, and you could tell that she was hurting. She came down to breakfast every morning with red-rimmed eyes like she had woken up crying. But she was trying, you know, she signed up for a bunch of classes. It turned out that she couldn’t cook, and even after several sessions with the hotel instructor she could hardly swim, but she never stopped trying. One day I asked her how she had the energy to try so hard, and she told me that she didn’t have the energy not to. If she didn’t fill every minute then she spent the time feeling sad, and her husband had made her promise before he died that she would look after herself. She said that if she didn’t exhaust herself before bed then she didn’t sleep well for missing him, and he would have hated that. So she was throwing herself into all the opportunities that he would have encouraged her to try had he been there, and then when she went to bed, she could imagine herself telling him all about her day and she could go to sleep knowing that he would have been proud of her. I thought about how your mum would have felt if she’d seen me, sitting there feeling sorry for myself. The next day I decided to copy her example. Your mum would have wanted me to. The chef said that my pies were the best he’d ever tasted.’
I dried my hands on his tea-towel and reached over to give him a hug. I giggled when he told me that they’d asked him to stay and teach the baking class when the old chef had been found drunk and sobbing in the corner after one of the guests had set fire to her shirt trying to bake fairy cakes. I realised that not only was it the longest speech I’d ever heard him give, but it was also the first time I remembered laughing with him in years too.
‘Would Mum have been pleased about my shop, do you think?’
‘She would have loved it,’ he assured me. ‘She believed in true love. She would be thrilled that you’re helping people to celebrate that.’
‘Eli doesn’t believe in happy ever after love,’ I said, concentrating on a pan that needed some elbow grease so that I didn’t need to look him in the eye as I spoke.
‘Eli was older when he lost his mum,’ Dad said. ‘He was old enough to know what he was losing, and he didn’t have any other family to look after him. I did my best to
make him welcome here, but I was pretty hurt myself. I didn’t have the skills to help him either.’
‘Do you think he’ll ever heal enough to be able to fall in love?’ I asked.
‘Do you think he is worth taking a chance on?’ Dad asked.
I nodded, and then the tears started. Dad held his arms open and I went to him. He held me as I sobbed. ‘Give him time,’ my dad told me. ‘You can’t put a time limit on grief, but know that you will find love, whether that’s with Eli or not I can’t predict. But if you’re open to love then it will come. I promise.’
Chapter Thirty-Two
Dad had sent me down to get cleaned up and changed before dinner. I’d called Lily to invite her and she promised to stop by for a quick snack before her shift started at work. I’m not sure what kind of people wait until late night on Christmas Eve to go shopping for last-minute sex toys as gifts, but apparently there were enough of them that Lily was expecting to work until midnight.
When she arrived at five, it was already dark. I’d turned my overhead light off and lit my room just with the hurricane lamp. It was dark and sombre and suited my mood perfectly. She grimaced when she saw my floor length and shapeless black dress and turned me around, ushering me back into my room and raiding my wardrobe herself until she found a navy-blue, mid-length dress. It was sombre enough that she could persuade me to wear it, but with the cap sleeves and lace detail around the neckline, I had to admit that it was a little more suitable for a party than my original outfit.
‘I’m not sure why I’m dressing up,’ I moaned, as Lily guided me to a chair and switched the light on so that she could apply my lipstick.
‘You’re dressing up because you fancy the pants off Eli and you want to show him what he’s missing,’ she reminded me.
‘You’re supposed to be my best friend. You’re meant to be on my side.’
‘I am,’ she assured me. ‘I’ll be there to look after you if he decides that he’s incapable of forming close bonds with another human being. Other than with Ben, obviously.’
‘You don’t think there’s any chance for us?’ I asked, hating the whine that I could hear in my own voice.
‘Of course I do, he’d be crazy to let you slip through his fingers. Now, turn around and let me fix your hair.’
We let ourselves into Dad’s flat at half past five, just as he finished pouring ouzo into a selection of small glasses. ‘There’s olives on the table and home-made bread and houmous, but don’t fill up on that. I’ve got about half a dozen different meze dishes for you to try in a minute.’ He went off to get himself changed, and Lily and I ignored his warnings and dug into the starters. The bread was still warm, and he’d added his own touch with a light sprinkling of smoked paprika on top of the dip which was delicious and smoky on the tongue.
The front door downstairs clattered shut, and shortly afterwards Ben and Eli appeared. I handed Ben a shot of ouzo, admiring his T-shirt as I did.
‘What do all those numbers mean?’ Lily asked him.
‘It’s binary,’ I told her. ‘Look, they’re all zeros and ones.’
‘I Googled it at lunchtime,’ Eli said, taking a glass from me and knocking it back in one. ‘It says “I’ve read your emails”.’
‘And on the back it says “they were boring”,’ Ben told us proudly. ‘I designed it myself.’
‘Has he read my emails?’ Lily asked me in a whisper.
‘Probably,’ I told her, refilling her glass after she knocked her shot back too. ‘Though I’m sure yours were a lot more interesting than mine.’
Eli had swapped his dirty jeans for a slate-grey suit and a shirt that was barely a shade lighter. He had added a thin black tie and shiny shoes. When he caught me staring, I held eye contact as I emptied my own glass, and yet when he winked at me my mouth still felt dry.
Dad came back into the kitchen and clapped him on the back. Then Dad insisted that we all join him for another glass of ouzo as he toasted Eli and thanked him for the holiday. ‘The main course will be served in a few minutes,’ Dad announced. ‘There’s lamb moussaka for the meat eaters, aubergine for you Daisy.’
I thanked him and swiped a small filo triangle containing spinach and cheese. The alcohol was going to my head already and I found myself blushing whenever Eli’s eyes reached mine. When it kept happening, I gave up and reached for the wine.
Dad had just set the dishes, covered in melted cheese and still bubbling away on the table when the doorbell rang. ‘Is that yours or mine?’ Dad asked. I wasn’t expecting anyone but I went to answer it anyway. Dad was busy slicing a loaf of bread and I couldn’t bear to take him away from his cooking when he had so recently rediscovered it.
I opened the door to find Cody stood there, her hair loose over her shoulders. She handed me a bottle of red wine so I invited her in to join the party. Dad handed her a plate of aubergine moussaka and beamed as she raved about it. ‘I didn’t mean to gatecrash,’ she said as Ben topped up her glass. ‘I just wanted to thank Daisy for sending a customer my way this morning.’
The doorbell rang again and this time Dad went to open the door. When he came back upstairs he looked confused. ‘Is this one of your friends?’ he asked, looking between Ben, Taylor and myself. Every time he glanced at Taylor he had to tip his head back to look up high enough.
‘I just wanted to check how Ben was after the weekend. Your dad kindly invited me to join you for dinner,’ he explained. Lily got up and fetched him a drink and plate before shoving Ben aside to make room for him next to her chair.
‘What happened at the weekend?’ Dad asked.
I coughed, and Taylor got the hint. ‘Oh, we just went for a little ride in the car,’ he said.
‘Did Ben get sick again?’ Dad asked.
‘It wasn’t my fault,’ Ben said, and I kicked him under the table to shut him up before he put his foot in it. He glared at me, but Dad was used to us bickering and ignored us, concentrating instead on Cody.
‘So how did you meet Daisy?’ Dad asked her.
‘I’ve just opened up across the road,’ she explained. ‘It’s more of a gallery than a shop at the moment, but I’m hoping to start selling more once the word gets out. Daisy kindly sent me a customer this morning. He’s booked me in for a series of family photo shoots, not to mention that he bought several of my framed prints. I was so nervous about launching my own business and it was just the confidence boost that I needed. Now I can take a few days off for Christmas, maybe even treat myself to one of those scarves you showed me downstairs, Daisy.’
I only had a couple left in stock, both of which would clash with her hair, but as she was currently wearing a purple and pink tie dye dress and looking amazing in it, I figured that if anyone could carry it off, Cody could. ‘I was thinking that I should offer a commission on the work. I wouldn’t have got it if it weren’t for you,’ she added.
‘And to think you were nervous about her shop putting you out of business,’ Ben said, picking up his glass to toast us. ‘Maybe it’s lucky that our surveillance didn’t turn up anything juicy.’
I kicked him again, this time hard enough to make him jump. He knocked over his wine glass and Dad had to jump for a tea-towel to mop it up before it dripped off the table.
‘Just kidding,’ I said, hoping that Ben wouldn’t correct me.
‘Are you okay, Cody dear?’ Dad asked. ‘Did any wine get on your lovely dress?’
‘No one would notice a few wine stains on this old thing.’
‘It’s very pretty and it suits you very well,’ Dad told her.
My mouth dropped open and I couldn’t think of anything else to say, until Lily recovered and asked Cody about her most recent photographs. Thankfully Taylor had a few more social skills than my brother and decided not to mention the pictures from the drone flights, and so instead we were soon hearing more about Dad’s holiday.
We’d finished the main course and Ben had cleared the table, when the bell rang again. I looked around, wondering
who else could possibly be dropping by given that most of the people I knew were already in the room.
Ben jumped up, leading Eli and I to reach the same conclusion at the same time.
‘Ben, please tell me you haven’t been stupid enough to invite Erin too?’ I asked him. Ben blushed, and with his colouring being the same as mine, he couldn’t hide it either. It was evident that he really had been that stupid. ‘What were you thinking?’
The bell rang again, and when none of us made a move to answer the door, Dad wiped his mouth on his napkin before getting up himself. When he walked back in with Erin behind him, I worked hard to bite my tongue. Dad had gone to a lot of effort to cook tonight, and it was so amazing to see him interacting with people and not just hiding out in front of the football game on the telly. I didn’t want to scare him away, but when Ben stood up and kissed Erin on the cheek, I couldn’t help but growl at her.
‘Daisy,’ Dad said, the warning evident in his voice.
‘Dad, she’s not good for Ben.’ I thought that I was being very restrained in my explanation. Ben evidently did not agree.
‘She loves me,’ he said. ‘In fact, before you so rudely interrupted our trip, I was going to ask her to marry me.’
‘She kidnapped you,’ I said, pushing my chair back so hard that it fell over.
‘She took me in when I couldn’t bear to be around you and Eli arguing yet again. What the hell was going on this time? Was it because you’re sleeping with him and going out with Taylor?’
‘Actually, I’m going out with Taylor,’ Lily said, glancing at me. ‘That’s why he’s here now. We wanted to ask if you minded, Daisy. I figured he was single so why not? But I just wanted to make sure. Given that you and Eli had been hooking up anyway, I mean. We got to know each other when we were looking for Ben but I thought that he was hung up on you. We didn’t get together until he dropped me home the other day and came in for a shower, and well, one thing led to another.’ Taylor reached across and squeezed her knee. She stroked his thigh as she waited for my response.
