‘Hey,’ I murmur. ‘Never mind that. Whatever’s wrong? What’s happened, Est?’
‘Sorry, Dad,’ she says again, crying so hard into my sweater now, I just hold her there and drop the pink carnations at my feet.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
ESTHER
Miles had bought her a ring. An actualringfor this Daisy something – Esther doesn’t know her surname. It’s been going on for a while, he admitted. Just someone he got to know ‘out and about’. What didthatmean? ‘I just kept running into her,’ he said, as if he’d had no control over his actions and his pants had just fallen off. He also implied that it was Esther’s fault for not wanting to come out so much anymore. But usually she wasn’t even invited because he was working, ‘doing a set’. And he always said he didn’t want her standing around being bored. ‘I need to keep my mind on the job rather than worrying about you,’ he’d insisted.
How Esther hates him, this pathetic man who truly believes he’s a top DJ and an ‘artist’. So many things he’s ruined. That first lunch out at Lauren’s. Their Christmas, frankly. ‘So you weren’t responsible?’ she yelled at him. ‘Is that what you’re saying?’
‘Just that things got out of control …’
‘No,you’reout of control,’ she shot back. ‘Or you pretend you are with your sex addiction, rather than justwanting to shag people. That’s what you do, isn’t it? You medicalise it, you make it a condition that you have no power over …’
‘I do have problems,’ he shouted back. ‘You know I’ve been getting help.’
On and on it went, the two of them yelling at each other in Miles’s kitchen under the watchful gaze of Dylan the rat. ‘You didn’t even get me a Christmas present,’ Esther cried.
‘I gave you a helium balloon!’
‘What am I? Five?’
‘You’re acting like it …’ Miles closed his eyes momentarily and placed a hand over them, as if this scene had exhausted him completely. Perhaps he needed seeds, those little powerhouses of energy he was so fond of?
‘So who’s Tabitha?’ Esther demanded.
‘What?’ He stared at her.
‘Tabitha from your journal, Miles. Who are Tabitha’s tits?’
‘Well, um …’ He stepped back, away from her. ‘Well, um … Tabitha’s, of course. Who d’you think—’
‘Are you sleeping with her too?’
‘That was nothing,’ he said quickly. ‘That was just a—’
‘Just a what?’ She caught Dylan staring at them through the bars of his cage, probably thinking how weird they are, these humans.
‘Just a … a …’ He raked back his dyed hair and looked down at the floor. ‘Just a thing,’ he said. ‘That’s all it was with her. Athing.’
*
Despite the brightness of the morning they hadn’t yet opened their bedroom curtains. Too busy fighting,obviously. And now, at just gone 11 a.m. her dad is here, listening as Esther spills it all out as they sit side by side on the bed. There’s no centre light in the room; just an assortment of antique lamps stuffed in various corners that she’s not about to go around switching on. So they sit in the gloom, with her dad’s arm around her shoulders while she cries and cries. Miles is hiding away in the kitchen.
Clothes and shoes are piled up in a corner and champagne glasses from Christmas morning are still sitting on a bedside table. Everything looks slightly grubby, like the aftermath of a party.
‘Jesus, Est,’ her dad says finally. ‘I’m so sorry, love. I can’t believe this has happened again.’ Miles cheating, he means. He knew all about the last time because Esther couldn’t stop herself from spilling it out.
‘It’s a bit of a mess, isn’t it?’ She rubs at her sore eyes.
‘Let’s get you out of here.’
She turns and blinks at him. ‘What, now?’
‘Yes,’ he says firmly. ‘I hate what this is doing to you. Whathe’sdoing. You need to end it right now, okay?’
She bites at a nail, about to say no, it’s fine, they’ll sort it. She never does what her dad tells her to do.
