Page 83 of Enemies to Lovers

‘I think,’ Dad offers, ‘that we’re all feeling a bit tender today, aren’t we?’

‘Allof us?’ I clarify, and Dad shrugs, like he doesn’t make the rules and so I shouldn’t shoot the messenger.

‘Nobody knows what to say, Florence,’ Mum says. ‘It’s very strange not to have Jamie here with us, and of course we all knowwhy. But we don’t want you upset, darling. We don’t want to upset any of the family.’

‘I’m a big girl,’ I reply, in the exact opposite way someone who is a big girl would say it. Grown-ups don’t need to assert that they are, indeed, grown up. ‘We can talk about Jamie. Of course we can. We can talk abouteverything!’

‘Why? What else is there?’ Alex says, wrinkling his brow in confusion.

I exhale dramatically. ‘I suppose,’ I say, because it’s been brewing inside me all holiday – all year; for many years, in fact – ‘what I have been wanting to talk about for ages is my breakdown. Because a lot of how I feel about the whole Jamie-thing actually stems back to that.’

‘Okay …’ says Mum carefully, and I can hear the ‘dot-dot-dot’ in her voice, like she’s worried where this might go and is bracing for impact.

‘I am very sorry I had a breakdown, you know.’

I pause after saying that. Dad has a fork halfway to his mouth and pauses like I’ve cast a spell. I wasn’t intending to bring any of this up, but apparently I’vedecided this is the right time, when Mum is teary and Laurie is actually quiet for once.

‘And I’m very sorry that it made you all scared for me. But I am notstillbroken. In fact I am very much mended. And so if everyone could go back to how they treated me before, instead of me being like a delicate doll …’

I’m rambling, and I know that sometimes the less said, the better, but on this occasion there’s so much to get out of my system.

‘It was scary, Flo, when you weren’t very well,’ Alex offers in a small voice. ‘We thought … you know. That we might lose you.’

His honesty steals the breath from my throat.

‘Lose me?’ I say. ‘No, I would never—’

Dad coughs and says, ‘We know that, darling. It is just our worst fear that anything could ever happen to you. You can’t be mad at us for that.’

I nod, picking apart what he’s told me. I knew they’d been worried, but notthatworried. ‘No,’ I say slowly, ‘I’m not. But I’m better, and all the stronger for what happened. I’m okay. Okay? And, you know, maybe I started to spend more time with Jamie because he’s the only person who seems to know that about me.’

At the sound of Jamie’s name, Laurie looks up. Is this the thing that will finally make him contribute? He looks down again. Apparently not.

‘Well,’ says Mum, ‘I, for one, wish the opposite. I wish that instead of thinking I’m so strong and capableand ready for anything, sometimes everyone knew that I’m scared and vulnerable, and that I worry so much that sometimes I think Igaveyou all my anxiety – especially you, Flo.’

Dad grabs her hand from where it lies by her wine glass. I suddenly realise that none of us have finished the food on our plates – with varying degrees of leftovers, we’ve all ceased to feel hungry.

‘I’m as petrified of the next thirty years of my life as the rest of you, you know. If we’re going to play the truth game, that’s mine. You want us to give youmorecredit, Flo, but maybe I get too much. Maybe I want to be worried about just as much as we’ve worried about you. I know I’m the parent and I’m supposed to be strong, but I think you’re all adult enough now to understand that there’s really no such thing as figuring it all out. Anyone who says they’ve figured it out is imbecilic and not to be trusted. Anyone who isn’tscaredis a fool, too. Life is terrifying! At least sometimes.’

Nobody speaks. I steal a look at Alex, whose facial expression tells me he had no idea Mum felt this way. I feel a pang of guilt that I didn’t follow up with her, after Dad basically told me all this.

‘Mum,’ I say, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t …’ I falter at the lie. Ididknow. ‘I should have thought to ask you how you’re doing. Any transition, at any age, must be scary.’

‘Correct,’ she says, sitting up straighter now she’s said her piece. ‘Everyone has something they’re afraid of. So I’ll accept you’re less afraid than ever, Florence, ifeveryone can accept that I’m … well, shitting myself about the future, quite frankly.’

‘I’m shitting myself about this baby,’ quips Kate, and we giggle, because it’s funny to hear Mum swear and it feels like Kate is acknowledging that – but Kate doesn’t laugh along with us. She means it. From everything she’s said about the pregnancy, I thought she was thrilled. She was so bubbly and funny about it all back at the market, looking at baby clothes. God, if even Kate puts on a bit of a front, that must mean everybody does. She’s normally the most truthful person I know.

‘You’ll be a wonderful mother, Kate,’ Dad tells her.

And Kate looks to the sky and says, ‘And yet you saying that doesn’t help me at all.’

A tear falls down her cheek, and Laurie reaches out an arm around her and pulls her in. He kisses her temple.

‘I’m scared, too,’ he says quietly, mostly to her, but we all hear it. The waiters must think we’ve gone mad – this massive family who over-ordered on the lunchtime booze and is now in varying degrees of distress, crying on each other and giving impassioned speeches, as if we’ve just found out one of us is dying. They do not come to clear our plates, even though the distraction might be nice. We are left alone, with our wine and our monologues.

‘Well,’ Alex declares, smacking a hand lightly on the table, ‘I’m bloody terrified that I will only ever be a good shag for somebody and never actually fall in love. Becausethat’s all I want. True love. And it’s a lot harder to get than the fairy tales would have you believe. Since everyone else has shared, that’s my dirty little secret. I work sixty-hour weeks and sleep for all of my days off, and then go and find a man at a gay bar on the one night a month I actually go out. I love my work, but I need more.’

‘Everyone needs more than just their work,’ Kate says. ‘Of course they do!’

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