Page 73 of Vivacity
‘But on the day he didn’t come. I was the only boy with no one there. My friend Alex’s dad couldn’t come, so his grandpa came instead. So I wasn’t allowed to present, and I had to sit with Miss Davies when we had our special Father’s Day cupcakes. I took his card home and gave it to him at dinner, but when I asked him where he’d been, he said he got stuck at work.’ Tears are stinging my eyes now, and I screw them more tightly shut in an attempt to keep them at bay. ‘He said I didn’t understand how hard he worked for this family and that I was an ungrateful little arsehole. And—he said that if I was at all grateful, I would stick to my job and work hard at my school subjects so I could do my family proud rather than wasting my time doing arts and crafts.’
I can’t help it. I shudder out a huge breath and, to my utter horror, the tears come, silent but devastating, wracking my body. In desperation, I open my eyes a fraction, squinting at the tissue box I know to be on the coffee table between us. Without a word, Philip holds the box out to me, his face stricken. I can feel the compassion radiating from him. I nod my thanks and yank a couple out, holding them to my face and blowing loudly. I’m as embarrassed by my outpouring of emotion as I am shocked by it. I never, ever cry. But, more potent than anything else,the heartbreak of reliving that moment crowds my mind and squeezes my heart in a vice.
I can still see the card. It was blue, with several photos that I’d painstakingly glued to make a montage. Front and centre was a shot of Dad and me grinning at Stamford Bridge, during an incredible VIP trip to see Chelsea play Man United at home.
I was so proud of that photograph. Of that memory.
But the happiness it brought me had nothing on the pain of that Father’s Day celebration at school. Of being left alone, with no father to proudly show off and no tie to swap. Of being gaslit and belittled when I got home as Mum, in her usual style, tried to brush my pain under the carpet and prioritise keeping the peace over giving me the comfort I so desperately craved.
‘I’m so very sorry that happened to you,’ Philip says after a few moments. ‘What would your adult self like to say to him?’
I let my eyes drift closed and my head fall back, exhausted. ‘That it’s not his fault, none of it. That his dad let him down, and it was inexcusable. That’—more tears leak quietly from my eyes—‘his dad is an egotistical twat, and I’m so sorry he had to survive that shit, over and over.’
‘Good. And what’s in your heart towards him?’
‘So much compassion. And love. I’m so proud of him, but my heart bleeds for him, you know? It justbleeds.’
‘Yeah,’ he says quietly. ‘Does he know that? Can he feel your love?’
In my mind, I wrap my arms even more tightly around that little boy who was so cruelly rejected by his arsehole father. He sags against me. He seems exhausted, but calmer. ‘Yes. I think so.’
‘Please thank him for his bravery in sharing.’ He clears his throat, and I open my eyes to see him cock his head. ‘And does your ice king part have anything to say about this? Or yourangry part? I’m curious to hear how they feel about your father’s mistreatment of you.’
‘The angry part’s still angry.’ I wipe my eyes with the balled-up tissue. I, too, feel calmer. ‘He’s spitting fire. But… the ice king part is saying, “See? The only thing you can do is take all the power back and hold it for yourself”.’
Philip frowns. ‘Who’s he saying that to? The little one? Or the angry guy?’
‘Both.’ Wow. ‘He’s telling them both that this is the only way to get ahead. That if you let yourself get hurt or angry, he gets all the power.’
‘He being your father?’
I nod. ‘Yeah.’
‘Interesting. So what else does he have to tell you? How does he cope?’
‘Well, um, he says that if you leave first, you have all the power, so it doesn’t matter if the other person then leaves.’
‘Ahh, I see. So is that why he withdrew when Sophia told you about her future plans, when that little boy got hurt? Can he tell you more about that—about how he felt in that moment? What does he see his job as?’
I let my eyes drift closed again. My inner ice king is still sitting at the head of the table. Fittingly, thefroideuremanating from him is intense. I’m getting mixed signals—it’s as if he wants to tell me to fuck off and at the same time is keen to share what seems eye-rollingly obvious to him.
‘Well, he says that he has all the levers, and that means he has the power to control everything about the situation, and if you don’t pull those levers then you’re fucking stupid and you’re leaving yourself wide open.’ That actually sounds quite chilling—sinister, even.
‘And what levers are those?’
‘Well, you control the physical distance first. Withdraw. Get as far away as possible. Then you control the emotional temperature. When you freeze someone out, they can’t touch you. You’re in control of the situation, not them. Make them feel bad—you’re showing them that you won’t stand for any bullshit stunts. Show them you’re not vulnerable to attack.’ My spine grows straighter as I speak, as if I’m absorbing his power.
‘He sounds very strategic,’ Philip observes mildly. ‘What else does he have in his toolkit?’
I consider for a moment. ‘Well, a lot of it’s about controlling what you give to others. If I don’t show my feelings, then you can’t use them against me. If I keep you at arm’s length, you can’t pull the rug out from under me. If I pay you for your time, then I don’t owe you anything.’ A vision of Sophia fills my mind and I shake it off.
‘He’s very persuasive. Very impressive. Clearly he believes very much in what he’s saying. But that language is also very armoured language, Ethan. Can you hear that from where you’re sitting?’
I relax my spine again and exhale. ‘Yeah. It is, I suppose.’
‘He’s very certain that he’s found the winning formula, but we know that certainty isn’t in any way correlated with correctness, don’t we? How old did you say he was? Early twenties?’
‘Yeah. I think so.’ There’s an arrogance there for sure, aonce bitten twice shykind of certitude. ‘I think it was after my dad had hired me to Kingsley Hotels, so he’d kind of given me the keys to the castle. But I was still very much on probation.’
