‘No. I manage the money. She … is good at other things.’
Her father set down his cup with a clunk. ‘She’s good at causing trouble and that’s about it. I wish you’d give over this silly rebellion and come home—’
‘You know I won’t.’
‘Perhaps I won’t give you any money this time, hmm? How long do you think you’ll last without my help?’
‘Fine! Don’t, then. I’ll find another way to make ends meet.’
And endswouldmeet if they didn’t keep taking on jobs for free. Some families could pay, but when they couldn’t none of them were stone-hearted enough to let someone die for the want of a few sous.
So Ada had found another way to make things work.
Her father sighed and rubbed his temples. ‘Go to Citoyen Bisset tomorrow, I’ve already left you some money there. You know you don’t have to use that silly drop point. You can come directly to me and have a civilised conversation. No – don’t tell me. You don’t want to risk Camille finding out.’
Ada’s cheeks burned. ‘That’s my business.’
‘If you cannot be honest with the people who claim to love you, then I would suggest they do not love you as much as they like to think.’
‘You don’t know anything about how we feel about each other—’
‘For goodness’ sake, Ada, I’m saying I’m worried you’re going to get hurt!’
Her anger knotted itself tight, and she squashed a ball of dough under her finger. He never called her Ada. Only when he thought she was being particularly unreasonable.
‘Don’t pretend you care. Not after what you did.’
‘Of course I care about you. You’re my only child. What happened with Camille and her father…’ He sighed again, transforming from revolutionary to overtaxed father. ‘You’ll understand why I did what I did when you’re older.’
‘Of course. That’s such a good answer.’
‘I’m trying to do what’s right. I truly am. We all are.’
‘Except me?’
‘No, I know you’re doing what you think is the right thing. I’m simply worried you’re placing your trust in the wrong person. You have a big heart. Too big a heart. You always did,’ he added fondly.
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Do you really think this is going to win me over? That I’ll fold and come slinking back? Am I some unruly child in one of your plays who sees the light and obeys? You would never let me have what I wanted – was it so awful—’That I loved Camille?She bit back the last words. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to hear the answer to that.
‘If you detest me so much, you wouldn’t keep taking my money. Where’s all this moral fibre you’re so insistent you have, and I don’t? Listen to yourself, you aren’t being logical.’
Ada searched for what to say.
Then settled on the truth.
‘I see you, even though I’m furious at you, because you’re the only link to my mother I have left. Even if you act as though you’ve forgotten her.’
A sadness passed over his face, and she felt her anger rise in response. How dare he pretend he was a good, caring father?
‘I haven’t forgotten her.’
‘After she died you couldn’t get out of Martinique fast enough.’
‘Because it hurt too much to be there. You know that.’
‘Didn’t stop you setting up this press, though. This was her dream, you remember, right? She was the writer, the one who could see that change needed a voice. Sometimes I wonder if you even loved her.’
His voice was flinty. ‘How dare you? How dare you tell me how I feel about your mother?’
