‘Good?’ he asks. My stomach rumbles in approval. ‘Lord, don’t they feed you at that school?’ he jokes. ‘What are we paying all that money for?’
‘For the non-functioning smart boards,’ I reply, taking my plate.
Dad grins. ‘I thought they were working now?’
‘They are. I just couldn’t think of a better line.’
‘OK, fine. Eat up, pet.’
I can’t wait for Dad to start too – it smells way too tasty.
‘Charlie would be so jealous,’ Dad says, as the film starts. He leans back with his plate on his lap and looks at me. ‘How is he?’
I almost choke. ‘Sinclair? Yeah, he’s fine, I think.’
‘He hasn’t been here for a long time now.’
‘He’s a busy man.’ I shove a forkful into my mouth. ‘He’s an actor now too.’
‘Charlie?’ Dad sounds astonished. But then he says, ‘That doesn’t actually surprise me. There’s something about him.’
I nod because that’s true.
Dad looks seriously at me. ‘But are the two of you OK?’
‘Dad, don’t ask like that. It sounds like we’re a couple.’
‘And you’re just friends, I know.’ He gazes at me with an expression that makes it clear he doesn’t believe me but he’s too cool a dad to keep on about it. But past experience has shown me that nobody sees through me as well as Dad does. I don’t like that, but I’m eighteen now, and a Leo. I’ve got a mind of my own.
Considering all that, I don’t know why I don’t tell him about Valentine and the New Year Ball instead. Probably because I can guess what Dad would think of it. Unlike Mum, he doesn’t see Val as the perfect son-in-law. At any rate, he was less pleased than she was that I went to the ball with him and not Sinclair. I imagine that if it weren’t for Mum, he wouldn’t have quite as much to do with the Wards. But that’s just how it is. There are people you can’t avoid and can’t afford to offend. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, or something like that.
We eat in silence and watch the film. Will doesn’t put in an appearance. and by about halfway through, I can hardly keep my eyes open.
‘Go to bed, love.’ I jump. Dad’s smiling at me. ‘Had another midnight party?’
‘No, I just couldn’t sleep,’ I say.
‘What were you thinking about?’
‘Dunno. Everything, kind of. Sinclair, Val, the play . . .’
It’s only when Dad pauses that I realize what I just said. ‘Valentine Ward? So he’s more than just your date to the ball?’
Oops. ‘Maybe.’
‘So I did see right at that dinner last weekend?’
Damn it. He saw, of course he did. He’s my dad: he sees everything.
‘What did you see?’ I ask hesitantly.
‘That you seemed very friendly,’ he replies diplomatically.
‘Yes, I . . . We’ve got close lately.’
Dad eyes me in silence. ‘Is he kind to you, pet?’ he asks, in the end.
‘Yes,’ I say hastily. ‘Val’s great.’Most of the time.‘We can talk.’Sometimes. At least when his pals aren’t around.
