by Amelia Hart
She thought about that a lot in the days that followed.
Again he invited her to join him for his morning walks during the week. Every morning he got up at six and went for a random wander through the streets and parks or along the waterfront for about an hour and in the weekends she went too. He tried to convince her to arrange to come with him before work, but of course she had to say no once more. She simply couldn’t maintain her disguise as Cathy under those conditions; though she was tempted to see if she could get away with tucking all her dyed brown hair up under a sunhat and going with him anyway.
So instead she pretended early rising on a working day was anathema to her, that it was unthinkable she should leave her bed one second before she must to make it on time for work.
Still, all his ravings about the meditative qualities of walking made her try it secretly on the days they were apart. And she was stunned by the difference it made to her outlook on life, to have an hour peacefully to herself, alone with her thoughts and no list of actions to do.
She felt like a new woman. One who held her head up and smiled at strangers. That sensation of internal expansiveness continued to grow.
It helped, too, that she was recognized and encouraged at work. It was such a big part of her persona, her ability to program: to outthink every challenge and arrive at a honed and perfect solution. Her university studies had seemed wonderful, given the chance to compete and be recognized for her excellence in a way she never had been at Techdos, where her work was taken for granted.
But that was nothing to how it felt to excel in the real world, to be a valuable member of a team. And surprisingly she had come to enjoy the teamwork. Once she relaxed into it and stopped jostling frantically, starving for attention, she realized her colleagues had some considerable skills. That working in a team did not have to mean being held back by the incompetence of others. Not when they had their own competencies.
Several times her work had been improved by her team’s suggestions. It irked to start with, but out of a newborn desire to truly fit in – or more accurately, a desperation that Mike not watch her too closely at work – she kept her hostility to herself and played nice.
Emboldened by this change, her team’s suggestions came thick and fast and soon she realized her work was improving, if she could only keep her defensiveness in check long enough to actually listen and alter her approach. Moreover they were warmer to her. Or maybe they had always been like that and she had refused to notice. Either way, she felt she was making some new friends.
Maybe Mike saw the change at work, because she no longer sensed she was under his close supervision. Now she had fitted in his attention was elsewhere, and though she missed the thrill of it she didn’t miss the continual knife edge of danger, of waiting for it all to come crashing down as he discovered the truth.
Unexpectedly her work at DigiCom had become valuable to her in its own right, not just as a way to be close to Mike all the time. Which was good because the excitement of being near him, of knowing him also in this other milieu that was so important to him, had given way to regret she couldn’t share these moments with him as his partner.
The character of Cathy irked her more and more. It had always been difficult to conceal her looks – that natural advantage in life that she had honed so carefully as she did anything that might put her ahead of the game. But now added to that was the resentment of any time she had to be apart from Mike. Sitting in the same office was no substitute. Not when she had to do everything she could to avoid his notice. Not when just being there without him knowing was a lie.
No, it was no substitute.
Yet loving her work had its own disadvantages too. Most significant of which was her reluctance to walk away from it. Yes, that would remove a huge burden of risk that Mike would find her out. But what would she do with her days then? Dad and Damian would expect her to go straight back to Techdos, as the university was still on summer break. Not to mention the conversation she had yet to have with them about her change of heart. As far as they knew, she was still trying to steal software, and she was fielding increasingly urgent messages and texts from the two of them, playing phone tag and using work as an excuse not to speak to them.
It was time to confront them and tell the truth. To make it clear she was not prepared to be a thief for them, not now and not ever, no matter what she had promised. She had had no very clear idea of her own morals and values before, but out from under Dad’s supervision, from her acceptance of his authority, she realized his choices were not the same as hers.
Maybe they never had been. Maybe that was why she had lived under such a burden of stress for so long, in conflict within herself, trying to resolve her own beliefs with those of her father, and by extension, her family.
It had come to dominate everything, the black-or-white perspective that she must cleave to her family or – if not – lose them. She could see it all much more clearly. It was time to forge different links – ones of true kinship rather than just shared ambition.
With that in mind she called dad to arrange to have dinner at the family home next Sunday. She talked to her sister Janet as well to suggest the afternoon of the same day could be spent together hanging out in the kitchen making things like Mum used to. Janet accepted the idea with enthusiasm.
Kate planned that they would share dinner and then she would draw Dad away and tell him she wouldn’t be involved with the family firm anymore; or at least, not as an employee.
Nor would there be any stolen software coming from her. Maybe she could do a piece of work for them that was her own. Maybe he would now accept that, knowing there was no other alternative. She didn’t mind doing work for them if she could stay out of the office and all its dynamics. As an independent contractor she might retain a professional link.
What worried her most was the question of how she could possibly explain her reasons for leaving without offending them beyond repair. Dad had built the company from the ground up, and Damian was completely wedded to it. To say it was a failure, a toxic place to work that chewed up and spat out its employees . . . well, of course they would take that observation personally.
Anything less than that truth and she would be hounded about her reasons, about where her loyalties lay. She wouldn’t hear the end of it.
Perhaps she could hint at her romantic involvement with Mike, imply her entire reason for staying at DigiCom was to be near him, and leave the relative merits of the companies out of it. Still, she didn’t know if that would prove a better solution. It was really a case of out of the frying pan, into the fire.
Deceiving people was such a complicated, unpleasant business. If nothing else, this whole melodrama had certainly hammered that home.
When she was free of Techdos she could also bow out of DigiCom – and she was surprised to discover the prospect far more difficult than that of leaving Techdos formally and for good. Then she could be just Kate, who was with Mike. Who loved Mike, and could maybe have a future with him.
The baking day was a success. Kate had carved a little precious time out of her weekends with Mike, reminding herself that soon she’d be able to see him on the weekdays as well so it wasn’t such a huge loss.
Luke had initially tuned up his nose at the idea, but Janet was enthusiastic. Luke had come and gone from the big, sunny kitchen, hands shoved in his pockets, eventually condescending to sit at the breakfast bar and taste a fresh-baked biscuit. Then two, and three. Kate handed him the recipe book so he could read out the instructions and before long he was volunteering scraps of things he remembered about baking at Mum’s knee. Kate found herself on the verge of weeping more than once, her eyes hot and her nose running so she had to keep blowing it. This was more perfect than she had imagined.
So the Sunday afternoon had been dedicated to trays of biscuits and muffins, with mum’s old cake tins hauled out of the back of the cupboard, cleaned and filled and placed lovingly on the bench. There were a couple more containers f
ull of goodies stored in the freezer.
“So you’ll have plenty of treats for the next couple of weeks,” said Kate to the two of them.
“Yum! This is great! Hey, we should do this more often. Like, maybe set up a regular time. The second weekend of every month, or something.”
Luke scooped another muffin off the countertop and started on it, nodding laconically with his mouth full. Crumbs littered the surface around where his arms were propped.
“I was wondering if you’d like to make something out of Mum’s recipe books for dinner too, instead of ordering out?” asked Kate.
“Oh yes! That sounds cool,” said Janet, instantly receptive. Kate had forgotten what an easy-going, positive person she was. In dedicating her time to the business, she had felt in touch with her family. But really she’d only been seeing Dad and Damian. And they never talked about anything but the business at work. No wonder their family wasn’t functioning too well. How could it, with so little play time together?
She barely even knew Luke, caught in the midst of his morose and largely silent teenage years. Who could guess what kind of guy lurked in there behind the sulky demeanor? They had spoken to each other more in the past two hours than in the whole year previously.
“I’ve got her old cookbooks,” said Janet, “but I don’t really know what she liked to cook. Dad won’t talk about her to me. You know what he’s like.” Kate nodded and said nothing. She did indeed know what Dad was like. A bear with a sore head if anyone mentioned Mum, even after all these years. He had never got over it, never let go. His and Mum’s bedroom was exactly the same as the day she died. As if his life had never moved on.
Kate paged reverently through the books Janet brought out. She was surprised how many recipes she remembered. She hadn’t realized she had such memories stored away.
“This one here, Mum always used to replace the orange with pineapple,” she said, stroking a fingertip over the old-fashioned printing of the color photograph with its slightly odd tints. “She said Luke liked it better. You didn’t like either version actually, Luke. But Mum loved it so she kept making it and saying optimistically that you would learn to like it. Then she’d bribe you with Lemon Jumbles for dessert, to get you to eat it all. And she made this steamed pudding all the time. It would be bubbling away on the stove when we got home from school. You could smell the golden syrup when you walked in the door.”
“Are we going to make a pudding?” asked Janet. “Hey, we should make a Mum-style feast.”
“Sure. Why not? Though I bet we’ll have to do some grocery shopping. If I know Dad the cupboard will be bare.”
It was, and the fridge too; empty except a couple of forlorn boxes of cereal. If food had once been the language of love in this house then there certainly wasn’t enough love to go around these days, Kate thought grimly. Nothing but a freezer full of frozen ready meals. But she pasted a smile on her face and set to making a huge list of things for them to buy at the shops.
Luke climbed into the back of the car to join them for the ride to the mall, immediately deserting them to meet up with some friends. “I’ll see you back home. I’ll make my own way.” Kate let him go with a shrug. It was a bit much to ask a teenage boy to enthuse over cooking with his sisters. But Janet hugged her arm and then danced away down the supermarket aisle, obviously pleased and excited, a vivacious, sunshine girl. Much more so than Kate, though Mike had called her that. Janet was so like their mother.
Her delight in the shared activity made Kate feel guilty, to think how little she had sought out her siblings since she moved out. She could change that, though. She could make the time. It was important to her.
A monthly get-together was no huge stretch. This shared meal would be lovely, though Kate must do her best to ensure work was not discussed at the dinner table. Not only did such conversation leave out Janet and Luke, it was almost certain to make things tense.
To start herself out on the right foot, she pumped Janet for information on what was going on in her life right now, earning a glowing description of Janet’s new boyfriend, a sly hint at a satisfying sex life that made her wince, but also hearing about the papers she was to study at uni, which of her friends would be attending too, the scholarship for textbooks she had just missed out on, and a half dozen other minutiae of Janet’s existence.
It was refreshing, reassuring to hear everything was so normal for her. And although their choice of major was radically different, it gave her a warm glow to think of sharing student life with her sister. Hopefully she’d be back there soon herself, with a part-time job on the side to pay the bills, though it would be a wrench to leave the excitingly practical experience of working for DigiCom and return to the more esoteric and theoretical world of academia.
They talked, they shopped, they returned home with bags crammed full of ingredients and supplies bought with Kate’s healthy bank account. She had splurged a little, out of guilt for the news she was going to break to Dad and Damian tonight.
While she dreaded the conversation itself, the feeling of relief at the prospect of honesty made her certain her choice was right.
If only she could apply the same clarity to the situation with Mike. The closest she was going to get in that area was to quit working at DigiCom, but keep dating Mike as herself. If he never found out the truth – and she could only trust neither Damian nor dad would ever hint at it in the future when they met Mike – perhaps she could get away with it. Perhaps she could give her relationship with Mike a proper chance.
It was hard to draw a line under working for DigiCom, though. Apart from the enjoyment of being there, Uni didn’t start again for almost two months, so when exactly should she quit? The longer she stayed, the more she would have saved to survive on while she looked for a part time job and studied.
“Why the long face, Kate?” asked Janet as she broke eggs into a bowl in preparation for making Mum’s chicken schnitzel.
“Nothing important,” said Kate, putting a couple of pieces of bread into the blender to make breadcrumbs. “I was just thinking over a conversation I have to have with dad tonight.”
“Really? That would give me a long face too. Dad’s been super grouchy these past few months. Is it money troubles? I kind of get the feeling it is.”
“It’s nothing you need to worry about, at any rate.”
“Well maybe not, but I’ve been thinking about him paying for my fees and I reckon I can about cover it myself, you know? I’ve been saving for years now, all that babysitting and tutoring money. Well, most of it, anyway. And maybe I’ll get a student loan too. That’ll take care of the shortfall. Maybe it’s finding that money that has him stretched.”
Kate opened her mouth to try and soften things for Janet, to tell her everything was okay and she mustn’t worry, Dad could take care of it. Then she hesitated.
It was right Janet should stand on her own two feet and make a mature decision like this. Kate, Damian, Dad, they had all been carrying the burden of raising and worrying about Janet and Luke, trying to make up for the loss of Mum and the overburdening of Dad as a single parent who was busy trying to run a company and earn a living while he brought up four children. But they were grown now, or the next best thing to it.
It would do Janet good to be independent. At her age Kate had gone to work for the company full time, and what a baptism by fire that had been. If she had thought Dad domineering, loud and sometimes cruel at home, he was even worse at work, trying to mould her into the perfect little tool. She had worked like a dog, earned a pittance, been shouted and sworn at. She had been strengthened by the experience. It hadn’t broken her.
Or maybe it had bent her a little; enough to be manipulated and bullied into industrial espionage. But by comparison, for Janet to have three years paying for herself while she earned a degree was no great injustice. And maybe a relief from the pressure would make Dad more civilized, more human, like the man he had once been. That would be better for all of them.
&
nbsp; Besides, Janet was likely to work harder and value the education more if it was her own money she was spending.
“Hey, I think that’s a great idea! You go girl!” she exclaimed, dropping the flattened, floured chicken into the beaten eggs with a faint splat.
“Yeah, well, that’s what I’m thinking,” said Janet, looking pleased. “Do you want me to mix up the batter for the Golden Syrup Pudding now?”
“That’ll work. I’ll finish these, then they go in the fridge to rest, and I can make the coleslaw.” Kate was conscious of a feeling of lightness, of relief. Puzzled, she tracked it to its source, and discovered it was the realization she wasn’t responsible for Janet anymore. Until that burden was gone, she hadn’t realized how it weighed on her. Only Luke left now. And perhaps with only one, nearly full-grown son left on his hands, Dad could do the parenting alone and Kate needn’t feel guilty. Maybe she had discharged her duty.
Which only helped her feel better about the conversation she was planning for after dinner. More justified in her decision. She was still nervous, but even more certain she had right on her side.
Chapter Nineteen
“So, what is it you want to talk about? Have you found something?” Her father’s eyes gleamed and he sat forward in his chair, whiskey glass pressed between his palms.
“Not as such, no.” She hesitated, gaze flicking over the dusty shelves of his crowded study rather than meet that eager expectancy. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath to steel herself, then dived right in. “Dad, I think the idea of stealing software designs stinks. I should never have said yes to it. I feel really bad –”
“This is not just about how you feel,” he interrupted. His voice hardened, grew cold. “This is about the future of this family, my girl.”
