Page 65 of Winter Nights at the Bay Bookshop
‘I don’t think anyone understands me and how tough it’s been for me but I want to get better. If you could just look into your heart and find a way to help me out of my current predicament. Please, Lily.’
‘What happened to the money your parents left you?’
‘Gone.’
‘And the house?’
‘Sold and the money gone. It’s the apps.’
‘What apps?’
‘The betting ones. It’s too easy. I do all the things they say like setting controls but…’ He shrugged. ‘Please help me.’
I studied his face for several moments – unshaven, dark circles beneath his eyes, the air of desperation and I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. ‘Okay. I will help you but not?—’
‘Oh, thank God! I knew you’d come through. I knew…’ His smile slipped at the vigorous shake of my head.
‘But not by giving you money,’ I said, finishing the sentence he’d interrupted. ‘I’m going to look up the numbers for some gambling addiction helplines and send you them later.’
‘Helplines?’
‘You need help and that’s what they’re for.’
‘But I need money, not some flamin’ do-gooder.’
‘Then I can’t help you.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’ he challenged.
‘Both. Your gambling problems arenotmy problem to solve.’ I headed towards the door. ‘I need to finish preparing for Christmas.’
‘So I was right earlier. Youarea selfish little bi?—’
‘Don’t you dare!’ I snapped, grabbing the door handle. I didn’t need to take that from him. In fact, I needed nothing from him. Cassie’s voice was loud and clear in my head –sack him off!I’d said I couldn’t but what on earth had I been holding on for? Justin had let me down time and time again and the one and only time he’d asked to see me was because he wanted to fleece me. We were through.
‘Seeing as you think so little of me, I’m going to make this easy for you. I’ve had very little to do with you for most of my life and that’s been your decision, not mine, butmydecision now is that I want nothing to do with you. I don’t know why I’ve been hanging on, giving you chance after chance, but I’ve had enough. I don’t need or want you in my life.’
‘You can’t mean that. I’m your dad.’
‘Are you really? Then you’ll know all these simple things about me. When’s my birthday?’
He winced. ‘April?’
‘Wrong. What’s my favourite book?’
‘How am I supposed to know that? Ask me something easier.’
‘My favourite colour? Drink? Food?’
When he just stared at me blankly, I threw out several more questions. ‘What car do I drive? What’s my dream holiday destination? What’s my degree in? What do I like most about working here?’
I paused between each question to give him room to answer but he just looked increasingly bewildered.
‘You don’t know me, Justin, and you’ve never been interested in getting to know me. These are things I’ve told you repeatedly and you haven’t listened to me.’
‘You don’t know that stuff about me either.’
‘Really? Your birthday’s 8 October, you don’t have a favourite book because you can’t stand reading but your favourite film’s a tie betweenThe GodfatherandGoodfellas. Your favourite colour’s dark blue, your favourite food is yuk sung but you get annoyed because it’s not on the menu of many Chinese takeaways and the one time you tried to make it yourself, it tasted like cardboard. Favourite soft drink is builder’s tea, favourite alcoholic one is a pint of bitter, preferably from a local brewery. I don’t know what you’re driving at the moment because you change your car that often but you have a strong affection for the Audi TT you owned in the late nineties. Your best holiday ever was interrailing after you graduated with your business studies degree, which is a bit of an insulting choice to share with me considering that was the holiday you were meant to go on with my mum before she found out she was pregnant. As for work, you don’t love anything about any of the jobs you’ve had because you claim you could always do better than your manager, your younger colleagues arejumped up little tossersand your older ones aretech-phobic dinosaurs who need putting out to pasture. Have I missed anything? No? Didn’t think so.’
