Page 64 of Winter Nights at the Bay Bookshop
‘I’ve got loads to do tonight.’ I indicated the boxes by the tree. ‘I can only give you five minutes. If you want more, it’ll have to be tomorrow.’
‘Now’s fine.’ He shuffled awkwardly and ran his hands across his chin, grimacing. ‘I’ll make it quick. I’ve lost my job and I’m in a tight spot. I need to borrow some money to tide me over.’
That was a lot of information to take in at once. ‘I’m sorry about work, but you’ve lost your job before and you’ve always walked into a new one.’
‘Yeah, well, that hasn’t happened this time. I’ve got my bank details here.’
He whipped out a debit card and I reeled back, shocked. Talk about jumping ahead several steps! I’d never loaned Justin money before and I had no intention of starting now. My stomach churned with the realisation that he hadn’t been desperate to see me; just desperate for cash. The cheek of him!
‘I don’t need much. Just ten.’
‘Ten pounds?’ It would be worth handing over a tenner just to get rid of him.
‘Grand.’
My breath caught in my throat and I had to force the words out. ‘Ten grand? Are you joking?’
‘Do you see me smiling?’
I reeled once more at the gruff tone. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair looked in desperate need of a wash.
‘I don’t have a spare ten grand lying around.’
‘That’s bollocks! You’ve got way more than that squirrelled away. You made a profit on the house you had with that bloke… what’s-his-name… the one who buggered off to…’ He shook his head, evidently unable to remember Ewan’s name or that he’d moved to Sheffield. I didn’t fill in the blanks for him.
‘And you’ve been living rent-free for years so that hefty sum’ll have grown. How much is it now?’
‘None of your business. It’s my money for my future home. I’m not touching it and I’m certainly not lending it to anyone.’
‘Ah, but I’m not just anyone, am I, kiddo? I’m your dad.’
Was he really playing thedadcard? I could run off a hundred reasons why he was not and never would be my dad, but I chose to take the upper hand.
‘I’m not lending you ten grand.’
‘Eight, then? Six? Come on, Lily! Meet me partway.’
I shook my head in disbelief. ‘This isn’t a negotiation. I’m sorry you’ve lost your job and I’m sorry finances are tight, but it’s not up to me to bail you out.’
The look of hatred he gave me sent a shiver down my spine. ‘Bloody hell, Lily! It’s only ten grand and I know you’ve got it.’
I stared at him defiantly, my hand planted on my hips.
‘You’re a crap daughter!’ His voice was loud and unnecessarily aggressive. ‘Any decent daughter would help her dad out in his hour of need but, oh no, not you. You’re all me, me, me!It’smymoney formyfuture.’ The quote of my earlier words was delivered in a high-pitched voice with exaggerated emphasis on the wordmy.
Could he hear himself? Was he even aware of how hypocritical he was being? I could have shouted back at him but I forced strength and control into my voice.
‘You think I’m a crap daughter? How about we talk about being a crap dad instead? Let me see.’ I put my fingers out and started counting off. ‘You abandoned my mum when she was pregnant, you barely saw me growing up and provided no financial support. And if we’re focusing purely on money, the only time I’ve ever had a birthday or Christmas card from you is when you’ve had a girlfriend who’s bothered to send me one. You’ve never given me a birthday or Christmas gift. I’ve never had pocket money or a few quid to congratulate me on passing my exams. You didn’t pay for driving lessons, you refused to spend money on me on the rare occasions you saw me when I was a kid – not even an ice cream – and when we’ve met up as an adult, we’ve either split the bill or I’ve paid.’
I’d run out of fingers but I hadn’t run out of steam.
‘So, with that track record of spending absolutelynothingon my upbringing, I’m fascinated to hear how you think I owe it to you to lend you ten grand of my hard-earned money. Or should that begiveyou because I doubt I’d ever see a penny of it back.’
The brief flicker of guilt that crossed his face confirmed that for me. I expected him to storm out in a huff but he surprised me by trying a different tack.
‘You’re right. I’ve been rubbish. I wasn’t ready to be a dad and, after Shelby met Marcus, I didn’t know how to compete with that. Didn’t think I could after I’d made such a mess of things. All I wanted was to be a good dad but I figured you were better without me in your life. When I stayed away, I was only doing it for you.’
When I stayed away, I was only doing it for you.Did he really think I was that naïve? Or that I wouldn’t notice the way he kept pausing between statements, as though gauging my reaction so he knew how far he’d have to go with his sob story? I wouldn’t be surprised if he told me next that he was misunderstood.
