Page 10 of Autumn at the Willow River Guesthouse
‘Well, I’ve had a couple of commissions,’ Pete said. ‘It’s not big money, but it’s only a hobby, isn’t it?’
‘That’s good. A couple more than Steve has ever had.’
‘I gather things haven’t gone to plan?’
‘No.’
‘Would you like to do a detour so I can throw him in the river?’
Lily shook her head. ‘No, it’s all right. I nailed him pretty hard. And this morning I cancelled the tenancy on his studio. He has a month to find somewhere else … and of course the money to pay for it.’
‘Your mother and I were never happy about you supporting him,’ Pete said. ‘I know you were in love and all that, but we both thought he was a bit of a scrounger.’
Had her dad said such a thing a week ago, Lily would have vehemently defended Steve, but now she felt like a deflated balloon. ‘I suppose we all make mistakes, don’t we?’
‘Too true. Now you sit back and relax, so that I don’t make another trying to get out of this godforsaken city. Whoever plans these places needs a kick up the backside.’
They stopped at Fleet Services because her dad wanted a pasty, then stopped again an hour later because Pete wanted a quick walk around Stonehenge, ‘Since it’s kind of on the way, isn’t it?’
It was a warm afternoon, the air fresh and less muggy than was usual in London, and Lily enjoyed the walk around the giant stone circle, before they got a coffee and a rock cake in the café inside the visitor centre.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Pete said as they idled away the afternoon, looking out of the recently built café at the flat Wiltshire landscape, the massive stone rectangles nowhere in sight. ‘I mean, you might want to make a mental list of what you could talk to me about and what you should leave for your mother, but if you want to….’
Lily sighed. ‘I feel like I drove my car off a cliff.’
Pete smiled. ‘I imagine you’d need to pour some water over yourself or something to claim that. You had a bad run, that’s all.’
‘Bad? I lost my job, my house, and my fiancé in the space of a couple of days.’
Pete nodded. ‘Yep, that’s the three. So you should be safe now.’
‘What?’
‘Bad things always happen in threes. You’ve got all yours out of the way, so you’re good to go. I reckon you could walk across the M3 blindfolded in fog and make it to the other side.’
Lily forced a smile. ‘Thanks, Dad. I know you’re trying to make me feel better.’
Pete leaned forward. ‘Or, you could look at it not as three bad things, but three good things.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Look, I know you got paid well, but your job was about as soulless as they come. Your flat—sure, it was pretty central for London—was a glorified shoebox, and Steve—well, I kind of liked him, with the art thing going on and all that—but he was a total sponge. I mean, I tolerated him, but your mother thought he was a clown of the highest order, and this from a woman who spends her days making dreamcatchers out of twigs and feathers.’
‘And selling them for ten quid a pop. Perhaps she’ll give me a job in her workshop?’
‘If you ask nicely. I’m not sure she could afford your salary bracket, though.’
‘Everything feels unreal, like the last four years was a weird dream and I just woke up. I don’t know what to do.’
‘You’ll find another job, and another boyfriend, and your flat will be fixed up in no time.’
‘Don’t forget the car. Oh, that makes four.’
‘Ah, but both your car and your flat can be fixed, so they only count as a half each.’
‘Dad … you’re totally shoehorning now.’
Pete smiled. ‘You’ve just had a bad run. We all get them. Remember that time I hit my thumb with a hammer in the morning, then broke my toe in the afternoon when the car rolled off the jack?’
