‘Oh. What else then?’
Her mouth twists. ‘She’s really happy for you, meeting Lauren, but she’s worried you’ve jumped headfirst into it.’
‘What?’
She pulls a pained expression. ‘I’m just saying what she thinks.’
‘But …’ I’m struggling to digest this. ‘I don’t know what that means. We’re just seeing each other. I’m not jumping into anything. I’m just having a nice time.’ It’s more than that. Way more. But I’m not even going to start to try and explain it.
‘She says you seem different,’ Rhona adds.
‘In what way?’ I ask, genuinely baffled.
‘Well, more reactive for a start.’
‘Morereactive?’
‘Yeah, like on Sunday, when you went for Miles—’
‘Bloody hell, I didn’t attack him. I didn’tgo forhim. I just objected when he started ranting on that “not everybody needs to be academic, Charlie. Not everyone has to be huddled over their books …”’
‘Well, they don’t,’ Rhona says firmly. ‘That is actually true—’
‘So you’re on his side now?’
‘I’m just saying not everyone’s cut out to swot their way through five years of vet school …’
‘You swotted too!’ I remind her.
‘I didn’t work nearly as hard as you, though.’ Howcrazy is this, that we’re playing a ‘who was the swottiest’ game when we have a combined age of 104? And the only reason she didn’t have to slog away as hard as me is that she’s so darned smart, she breezed through it.
After graduating, Rhona teamed up with a friend, managed to find a backer and opened a tapas-style café that became a great success. They sold it at a vast profit, which enabled her to open Foraged with Luc. She is a powerhouse and has done very well for herself. I admire her for it, and mostly we get along fine. But at times like this it strikes me how she’s carved out the part of the fun, spontaneous, free-spirited one for herself – swigger of Bloody Marys on a Monday night, the one who was adamant about letting Esther choose her own school without any real discussion at all. Whereas I seem to have been cast as the ‘sensible’ parent, the worrier about stuff like exams and prospects – a role that’s as appealing as being the arse end of a pantomime horse.
‘Not everyone’s like you, James,’ Rhona reiterates. ‘Not everyone has their career path mapped out at thirteen and wants to spend their days jet-blasting a Jack Russell’s anal glad.’
I stare at her. ‘You don’t jet-blast a dog’s anal gland. I’m not Dyno-Rod. You gently squeeze it.’
As Rhona shudders, I pick up the pink drink and sip it. Despite its pastel hue that might suggest a flavour similar to strawberry ice cream, its taste is subtle – like a glass of stale water that’s been sitting on the bedside table for a week. Miraculously, the instant Rhona’s glass is emptied Luc reappears with another Bloody Mary for her. ‘How’s it going, guys?’ he shouts, looming over us.
‘Great,’ I reply.
He clamps a meaty hand on my shoulder. ‘You worry too much about Esther and Miles. It’ll all turn out fine.’Of course Luc, never having had kids of his own, knows all about the gut-wrenching worry they can trigger.
‘Yeah, I’m sure it will,’ I mutter.I know this is your bar, Luc, but please go away.
He bobs down to crouch beside me, in the way that a teacher might when addressing a primary school child. ‘The thing is, she’s a great girl.’
‘Yes, of course she is,’ I say tightly.
‘She’s amazing, so talented,’ he adds, which is starting to rile me – not because I’m averse to anyone bigging up my daughter but because he’s implying that I don’t ‘get’ my own child. Okay, so Iwasn’tdelighted when Esther was set on going to Willow Vale: a ‘democratic school’, as they say in the marketing brochure, ‘because everyone has a voice’, and where pretty much everything – even turning up – is optional.
‘So, when they do go to lessons, they’re really motivated,’ Rhona explained, totally sold on the idea. But what about all the times they didn’t go? What would they be doing then? ‘Playing!’ she announced. ‘What’s more important than play, James?’
‘Fine,’ I said; of course it was important. I wasn’t going to disagree with that. But I still couldn’t get my head around the idea of the kids doing whatever they liked all day long, because I know I’d have arsed around with my mates, climbing trees, listening to music, having the odd sly beer and a smoke and showing up for a lesson something like once a fortnight. That’s just human nature, surely? The only reason I finally applied myself was because I knew I’d need good grades to get into vet school.
So here we are again, with totally different views (what does she mean, that Esther and Miles arequite sweet together?) and no way, really, of compromising. I get up and pull on my jacket. ‘Well, I’d better head back,’ I start.
‘I don’t want you to feel got at,’ Rhona says, frowning now.
