‘Why d’you have to say that?’ she’d asked, prickling with annoyance.
‘Say what?’ He looked confused.
‘“All that mindfulness stuff”. It’s justmindfulness, Dad. That’s what it is. Why d’you have to be so cynical?’ She felt guilty then because he isn’t cynical at all. He’s the very opposite, whatever that is. Straightforward, she supposes. He just says what he means, with no attempts at manipulation or twisting the truth (unlike her boyfriend, for instance).
Her dad just doesn’t get the whole spirituality thing. He probably thinks it’s just a load of woo-woo that the gemstones used in Bethani jewellery can evoke different qualities and have been blessed by a priest. But that’s hardly unusual for a man of fifty-one, fifty-two or whatever he is. Esther reckons her dad’s generation aren’t in touch with their inner landscapes, the way young people are. They’ve been too busy burning coal, pumping out disgusting fumes from factories and wrecking the planet (not that Esther holds her fathercompletelyresponsible for that) to think deeply about spiritual matters. Her dad just goes to work and treats all those animals, comes home, does the stuff he has to do, goes to bed, gets up; repeat, repeat, repeat, like a machine. Oh, he sees his friends for drinks occasionally – and of course now he hasLauren.
These days Esther has plenty to be grateful for. She has written in her gratitude journal that her latest Instagram posts have been her most popular ones ever. The Bethani people were delighted, so it looks like their relationship is good again. ‘We loved all those fresh, natural pictures in the garden,’ they enthused. ‘They were so much moreyou, Esther. And so much more on brand than the black walls and those challenging abstract paintings.’
Esther has Lauren to thank for that. But still, she can’t help feeling uneasy about what’s going on with her dad. For as long as she can remember he’s been the one who’s had her back, who’s been involved in the day-to-day workings of her life. Far more than her mum has anyway. She’s always been more wrapped up in her bar, and Luc, and her own social life than anything Esther’s had going on.
Of course she’s an adult now and no longer needs looking after. But still, she likes to know her dad’sthere. To Esther, he’s like the life jacket they always go on about when you’re about to take off on a flight. While you hope you’ll never need it, it’s good to know it’s stashed away for use in an emergency.
He’s had girlfriends before, of course. Well, actually just the one that Esther can remember. She was happy for him, as she’d started to worry that he’d be on his own forever, and would end up alone at eighty-five, spooning in tinned soup from a bowl on a tray in front of the TV. (Esther and Miles eat off trays in front of the TV, but that’s different.)
The other reason she was happy with the situation was that Polly didn’tchangehim. The whole time he was seeing her, he was basically the same person he’d always been. He was still Esther’s dad. He still had plenty of time for her and hadn’t acquired that madly besotted look he has now. She’s figured that he can’t have been truly in love with Polly, because when she ran off to South America he seemed perfectly fine. Esther, whose relationships had so far been all about drama and scenes, couldn’t understand it at all.
‘Aren’t you upset?’ she’d asked him at the time.
‘No,’ he’d replied, looking surprised. ‘It’s an amazing opportunity for her.’
‘But what about you?’
‘I’m fine, Est. Of course I am.’
‘Didn’t you try to stop her going?’
He’d actually laughed at that. ‘How could I have stopped her?’
‘I don’t know, but—’
‘Should I have confiscated her passport? Honestly, I’m happy for her. It’sfine.’
Esther can’t imagine he’d be ‘fine’ if Lauren went off to South America. He’d probably throw in his job and follow her out there, if his recent behaviour is anything to go by. Her solid, dependable dad is most definitely madly in love with Lauren, and it worries Esther. Scares her, even.
Of course he’s still her dad. Nothing will ever alter that. But can she still count on him to put her first, as she’s always been able to? Sometimes, after all the craziness with the reality show, he was the only thing in her life she could depend on, no matter what.
It’s not that she begrudges him his happiness. God, no. He’s a wonderful man – the best one she knows – and he deserves to find love. It’s just that sometimes, with Miles, Esther has a niggling fear that the plane she is on is about to plummet from the sky. And she worries that her life jacket might not be there when she needs it.
*
It’s a cool and misty November afternoon when Esther arrives at Lauren’s cottage in the pretty Hertfordshire village. This time, there’s no Miles. Her dad isn’t even here. There’ll be no talk of mullets or whether academia is important or any awkward scenes today. Esther has come alone by train and is ready to do the shoot that sheand Lauren arranged together. As Lauren picked her up from the station, and they chatted politely on the short drive, Esther decided she really must banish any negative feelings from her head.
After all, her dad is happy and that’s what matters.
It was Lauren’s idea to do a wintry shoot here in her garden. Esther is taken aback to see that she has strung fairy lights all across the twiggy trees, threading them through the branches like twinkling blossom. She doesn’t remember them being there last time and wonders now if she’s done this specially, to make it look all sparkly and lovely for her. The plan is to shoot in the late afternoon light and into the dusk. ‘I thought it’d look great with the fairy lights,’ Lauren explains. Esther agrees, and she’s keen to get on with doing the pictures.
She’s brought a bag filled with Bethani necklaces, earrings and bracelets – the whole caboodle. In Lauren’s kitchen she tips everything out onto the table they’d all gathered around for that terrible lunch. Miles hadn’t behaved well, she’d decided later. What was he thinking, going on about having a baby with her? Esther has no intention of getting pregnant right now – or in the foreseeable future. He’d probably just felt out of his depth and he’d definitely drunk too much. Esther has decided it’s best not to mention the lunch today; to pretend it never happened.
‘What kind of shots are you thinking of?’ Lauren asks now, handing her a mug of tea.
‘Just like you did before,’ Esther replies, swinging round as Charlie arrives home from school.
‘Hey, Esther!’ He looks surprised to see her and dumps his bag at his feet.
‘Hi, Charlie,’ Esther says. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Good,’ he says, shrugging off his jacket. He’s agood-looking boy, Esther decides, having not really noticed that first time she met him – whenever Miles is around he tends to demand all of her attention. Charlie’s eyes are a chestnutty brown, his hair wavy and dark and falling into his face, a little unkempt. With that typical teenage boy’s leanness, he could probably guzzle pie and chips every mealtime and never gain an ounce. He gives his mum a quick hug, which strikes Esther as sweet, although the vibe he gives off suggests he’s just being nice because they have company.
