Page 2 of Never Too Late
Steph put on the kettle and returned to the lounge doorway. ‘I haven’t told him.’
‘You haven’t? No, I suppose it’s best not to worry him until you know what’s going on.’
Worry him? The way Ethan had been behaving recently, it probably wouldn’t even have registered with him. ‘Yes, best to wait.’
‘There’s cake in the tin. Mrs Edwards came around this afternoon, so I made a chocolate sponge.’
Steph made the tea, cut two slices of cake and returned to the lounge where the conversation soon revolved back to Ethan.
‘How are things between the two of you? All going well?’ From the tone of her mum’s voice, Steph could tell that she knew full well that things weren’t going swimmingly.
‘Not really. He’s being very immature.’
‘Still staying out late? And what about his drinking?’
‘Not getting any better, I’m afraid. The thing is, Mum, he wasn’t like this when I first met him.’
Her mother surveyed her over the coffee table. Since moving in with Ethan eighteen months ago Steph had made a point of getting over to see her mum as often as she could as she knew how lonely it must be for her after the death of Steph’s dad the previous year. The first few times she had brought Ethan with her, but her mother had never been keen on him and it was clear from her attitude today that she disapproved of him even more now.
‘If you want my advice, Stephanie, you’d be much better off without him.’ For a moment Steph waited for her to add, ‘I told you so,’ but she didn’t.
‘You may be right. I’m starting to think that myself.’ Steph paused helplessly. ‘It’s just that if I leave him, I’ll have to leave the studio.’
‘You’ll find something else. And surely your happiness is worth more than any job?’
‘Yes, but much of my happinessismy job. I love it.’
‘Why don’t you look around to see what else is available before doing anything drastic? You never know what might come up. People move on, start families, get fired. Why not spend a few hours on the internet seeing what’s available?’ Her mum had always been a pragmatic sort of person.
Steph nodded in agreement. ‘That’s exactly what I was doing last night. The trouble is there’s nothing here in London; at least, nothing as good as my present job.’
‘Well, if you love it so much, you really need to sit down and talk to Ethan, tell him how you feel. Maybe he doesn’t realise how his behaviour’s affecting you.’
Steph sighed glumly. ‘You’re right. It’s just that I’m not sure he’s ready to modify his behaviour. The more time he spends with his mates – and there are some really wild ones among them – the worse he gets. Although he’s thirty-six, he sometimes acts more like a sixteen-year-old.’
‘Then let him get on with it, even if it means you having to make a fresh start somewhere else. That’s what your father did, after all.’ Steph’s Italian father had been a violinist who had moved from the famed La Fenice orchestra in Venice to the Royal Philharmonic in London. He had married and settled happily over here, insisting on speaking to his daughter in Italian as much as possible so that she could learn the language. And it had worked. ‘You could always look for something in Italy.’
‘Let’s not get carried away, Mum. I haven’t dumped him yet.’
‘But I think you will.’ Her mother sounded as though she was in no doubt. ‘Your happiness is the most important thing. There must be loads of other jobs in the music business.’
‘We’ve been through this time and time again. There aren’t as many as you’d think and certainly very few well-paid ones. At least with this job I can keep the wolf from the door, which is more than I was doing as a session musician.’ With an awful lot of hard work and the unfailing support and encouragement of her parents she had managed to get to university, emerging with a music degree and a massive student-loan debt. After university she had spent several years trying to survive as a keyboard player but in the end she had bitten the bullet and looked for something more secure. The result had been her current job, working for Ethan. As time had gone by, she had found herself drawn closer and closer to him until they had moved in together.
Any further comment was interrupted by her phone. She picked it up and groaned inwardly as she checked the caller ID. For a moment or two she toyed with the idea of not answering but then decided she had no choice. He was her boss after all.
‘Ethan, hi.’ Out of the corner of her eye she saw her mother roll her eyes heavenwards. ‘What’s new?’
‘How do you fancy a few weeks in Italy? By the seaside. You’re half Italian, after all. You should love it.’
‘Are you talking about taking a holiday?’ Steph was genuinely amazed. This was a first. Ethan rarely took time off – unless it was to party into the small hours. As for herself, apart from regular trips to Venice with her parents to spend time with her dad’s extended family, the only other time she had been abroad had been a cheap and not so cheerful trip with a former boyfriend to the Costa del Sol five years ago where a bathroom full of cockroaches and a twelve-hour delay at Malaga airport on the way back hadn’t inspired any desire in her to travel anywhere since.
‘I’m sure we’ll have time to holiday as well, but this is a job, and a good one.’ He was sounding remarkably bubbly.
‘In Italy? Why go to Italy?’
‘Because that’s where the job is, and we’re needed pronto.’
‘But what about the studio here? We’ve got people booked in all the way through September.’
