okay?”
‘Yeah.’
‘Do you fancy going somewhere for lunch?’
‘That would be nice. But not Starbucks, the deli down the street.’
‘Okay.’
‘Come to my office.’ Mr. Rees usually rang me, not emailed.
‘Coming now, Mr. Rees.’
‘I’ve got to go and see Mr. Rees, Justin. We’ll catch up at lunch.’
‘Yeah. Good luck!’
I grabbed my pad and pen, and headed over, instantly feeling like I’d done wrong. Every time I had to face him, I felt like that. It reminded me of having to speak to Dad when I was a kid. There was always something I’d not done well enough, and never any gratitude or congratulations.
The black eye Mr. Rees had come into work with the weekend after New Year had come down from a dark purple to a disgusting black and yellow. Someone had hit him, but he’d brushed it off and said he’d walked into a door.
Yeah, the sort of door with a fist on it. He’d pissed someone off.
“There’s some letters on there.” He slid the Dictaphone across the desk toward me. “I need them typed up today.”
“Okay. Is there anything else, Mr. Rees?”
“And I need a present for my wife.”
Why, what have you done? The gifts Dad bought Mom had always meant an apology. Maybe the guy who’d given him a pounding the other week was someone to do with the woman he’d been having an affair with, or his betrayed wife. I wished someone would deliver a similar judgment on my dad. He deserved it.
Yeah, Mr. Rees was like my dad–but a small-time version of him.
Dad had more money, more power, more reach, and probably more women…
“What type of present?”
“Something more than flowers, but it can go with flowers.”
“Jewelry?”. I thought of all the jewelry we’d discovered in a room we’d gone through back at his place New Year’s Eve, his mistress’ stuff. Maybe his wife had finally had enough and called him out… I wished Mom would do the same to Dad…
That shoved the day I’d caught my dad out in my face. It had led to the massive fight I’d had with Daniel, and that had been the end of life as I’d known it.
But it hadn’t been a life… Not really.
“A necklace might be nice. I’m taking her out. She’ll be wearing dark blue, if you can find something appropriate?”
I wanted to flip him off and chuck his Dictaphone down on his desk, and storm out. I didn’t, I needed this job, it was paying my bills, ‘cause there was no way I was letting Dad pay them. I was done with being manipulated in the way people like Mr. Rees and Dad manipulated people–with money and presents.
Being reminded of that life dunked me in a bath of ice. It woke me up. Yeah he was like Dad, and his marriage was probably just like my parents’? Dad didn’t have a mistress, as far as I knew, but he’d been with lots of other women, while Mom turned her back and carried on.
Romance. Happy endings. Love. Bullshit crafted by fairytales and Disney. I didn’t believe in it. It wasn’t what I was looking for. I’d made my mind up a year ago.
When I went back to my desk, I plugged in my earphones and listened to his dictation, my fingers moving over the keys automatically, as my brain skimmed through why I hated love.
I could still see Dad’s face when Daniel and I had walked in on him dining with some twenty-something Swedish girl. He’d taken her out to a restaurant in a hotel twenty minutes from where we were staying, and left Mom back at our chalet. Shame for him it just happened to be the same one Dan had decided to take me to. Or perhaps no shame–he didn’t really care–just asked me to say nothing so it wouldn’t hurt Mom.
Dan and I went straight back to the chalet, and I saw from Mom’s face, she knew what was going on.
When I’d been a child coming home on those rare occasions in the holidays, I’d watched him, always making people laugh. He was a social junky. He loved being around people and getting all the attention. But I hadn’t realized then he’d been
‘Yeah.’
‘Do you fancy going somewhere for lunch?’
‘That would be nice. But not Starbucks, the deli down the street.’
‘Okay.’
‘Come to my office.’ Mr. Rees usually rang me, not emailed.
‘Coming now, Mr. Rees.’
‘I’ve got to go and see Mr. Rees, Justin. We’ll catch up at lunch.’
‘Yeah. Good luck!’
I grabbed my pad and pen, and headed over, instantly feeling like I’d done wrong. Every time I had to face him, I felt like that. It reminded me of having to speak to Dad when I was a kid. There was always something I’d not done well enough, and never any gratitude or congratulations.
The black eye Mr. Rees had come into work with the weekend after New Year had come down from a dark purple to a disgusting black and yellow. Someone had hit him, but he’d brushed it off and said he’d walked into a door.
Yeah, the sort of door with a fist on it. He’d pissed someone off.
“There’s some letters on there.” He slid the Dictaphone across the desk toward me. “I need them typed up today.”
“Okay. Is there anything else, Mr. Rees?”
“And I need a present for my wife.”
Why, what have you done? The gifts Dad bought Mom had always meant an apology. Maybe the guy who’d given him a pounding the other week was someone to do with the woman he’d been having an affair with, or his betrayed wife. I wished someone would deliver a similar judgment on my dad. He deserved it.
Yeah, Mr. Rees was like my dad–but a small-time version of him.
Dad had more money, more power, more reach, and probably more women…
“What type of present?”
“Something more than flowers, but it can go with flowers.”
“Jewelry?”. I thought of all the jewelry we’d discovered in a room we’d gone through back at his place New Year’s Eve, his mistress’ stuff. Maybe his wife had finally had enough and called him out… I wished Mom would do the same to Dad…
That shoved the day I’d caught my dad out in my face. It had led to the massive fight I’d had with Daniel, and that had been the end of life as I’d known it.
But it hadn’t been a life… Not really.
“A necklace might be nice. I’m taking her out. She’ll be wearing dark blue, if you can find something appropriate?”
I wanted to flip him off and chuck his Dictaphone down on his desk, and storm out. I didn’t, I needed this job, it was paying my bills, ‘cause there was no way I was letting Dad pay them. I was done with being manipulated in the way people like Mr. Rees and Dad manipulated people–with money and presents.
Being reminded of that life dunked me in a bath of ice. It woke me up. Yeah he was like Dad, and his marriage was probably just like my parents’? Dad didn’t have a mistress, as far as I knew, but he’d been with lots of other women, while Mom turned her back and carried on.
Romance. Happy endings. Love. Bullshit crafted by fairytales and Disney. I didn’t believe in it. It wasn’t what I was looking for. I’d made my mind up a year ago.
When I went back to my desk, I plugged in my earphones and listened to his dictation, my fingers moving over the keys automatically, as my brain skimmed through why I hated love.
I could still see Dad’s face when Daniel and I had walked in on him dining with some twenty-something Swedish girl. He’d taken her out to a restaurant in a hotel twenty minutes from where we were staying, and left Mom back at our chalet. Shame for him it just happened to be the same one Dan had decided to take me to. Or perhaps no shame–he didn’t really care–just asked me to say nothing so it wouldn’t hurt Mom.
Dan and I went straight back to the chalet, and I saw from Mom’s face, she knew what was going on.
When I’d been a child coming home on those rare occasions in the holidays, I’d watched him, always making people laugh. He was a social junky. He loved being around people and getting all the attention. But I hadn’t realized then he’d been
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