Can You Keep a Secret?
Page 90
'And a selection of cakes,' adds Mum. 'Grazie!'
'Mum …' I put a hand to my head as the waiter disappears. 'What do you mean, you've bought me a car?'
'Just a little run-around. You ought to have a car. It's not safe, you travelling on all these buses. Grandpa's quite right.'
'But … but I can't afford a car,' I say stupidly. 'I can't even … what about the money I owe you? What about—'
'Forget the money,' says Dad. 'We're going to wipe the slate clean.'
'What?' I stare at him, more bewildered than ever. 'But we can't do that! I still owe you—'
'Forget the money,' says Dad, a sudden edge to his voice. 'I want you to forget all about it, Emma. You don't owe us anything. Nothing at all.'
I honestly cannot take all this in. I look confusedly from Dad to Mum. Then back to Dad. Then, very slowly, back to Mum again.
And it's really strange. But it almost feels as though we're seeing each other properly for the first time in years. As though we're seeing each other and saying hello and kind of … starting again.
'We were wondering what you thought about taking a little holiday next year,' says Mum. 'With us.'
'Just … us?' I say, looking around the table.
'Just the three of us, we thought.' She gives me a tentative smile. 'It might be fun! You don't have to, of course, if you've got other plans.'
'No! I'd like to!' I say quickly. 'I really would. But … but what about …'
I can't even bring myself to say Kerry's name.
There's a tiny silence, during which Mum and Dad look at each other, and then away again.
'Kerry sends her love, of course!' says Mum brightly, as though she's changing the subject completely. She clears her throat. 'You know, she thought she might visit Hong Kong next year. Visit her father. She hasn't seen him for at least five years, and maybe it's time they … had some time together.'
'Right,' I say dazedly. 'Good idea.'
I can't believe this. Everything's changed. It's as if the entire family has been thrown up in the air and has fallen down in different positions, and nothing's like it was before.
'We feel, Emma,' says Dad, and stops. 'We feel … that perhaps we haven't been … that perhaps we haven't always noticed …' He breaks off and rubs his nose vigorously.
'Cappu-ccino,' says the waiter, planting a cup in front of me. 'Filter co-ffee, cappu-ccino … coffee cake … lemon cake … chocolate—'
'Thank you!' interrupts Mum. 'Thank you so much. I think we can manage from here.' The waiter disappears again, and she looks at me. 'Emma, what we want to say is … we're very proud of you.'
Oh God. Oh God, I think I'm going to cry.
'Right,' I manage.
'And we …' Dad begins. 'That is to say, we both — your mother and I —' He clears his throat. 'We've always … and always will … both of us …'
He pauses, breathing rather hard. I don't quite dare say anything.
'What I'm trying to say, Emma,' he starts again. 'As I'm sure you … as I'm sure we all … which is to say …'
He stops again, and wipes his perspiring face with a napkin.
'The fact of the matter is that … is that …'
'Oh, just tell your daughter you love her, Brian, for once in your bloody life!' cries Mum.
'I … I … love you, Emma!' says Dad in a choked-up voice. 'Oh Jesus.' He brushes roughly at his eye.
'I love you too, Dad,' I say, my throat tight. 'And you, Mum.'
'You see!' says Mum, dabbing at her eye. 'I knew it wasn't a mistake to come!' She clutches hold of my hand, and I clutch hold of Dad's hand, and for a moment we're in a kind of awkward group hug.
'You know … we're all sacred links in the eternal circle of life,' I say with a sudden swell of emotion.
'What?' Both my parents look at me blankly.
'Er, never mind. Doesn't matter.' I release my hand, take a sip of cappuccino, and look up.
And my heart nearly stops.
Jack is standing at the door of the coffee shop.
TWENTY-TWO
My heart is hammering in my chest as I stare at him through the glass doors. He puts out a hand, the door pings, and suddenly he's inside the coffee shop.
As he walks towards our table, I feel a rush of emotion. This is the man I thought I was in love with. This is the man who completely used me. Now the initial shock has faded, all the old feelings of pain and humiliation are threatening to take over and turn me to jelly again.
But I'm not going to let them. I'm going to be strong and dignified.
'Ignore him,' I say to Mum and Dad.
'Who?' says Dad, turning round in his chair. 'Oh!'
'Emma, I want to talk to you,' says Jack, his face earnest.
'Well, I don't want to talk to you.'
'I'm so sorry to interrupt.' He glances at Mum and Dad. 'If we could just have a moment …'
'Mum …' I put a hand to my head as the waiter disappears. 'What do you mean, you've bought me a car?'
'Just a little run-around. You ought to have a car. It's not safe, you travelling on all these buses. Grandpa's quite right.'
'But … but I can't afford a car,' I say stupidly. 'I can't even … what about the money I owe you? What about—'
'Forget the money,' says Dad. 'We're going to wipe the slate clean.'
'What?' I stare at him, more bewildered than ever. 'But we can't do that! I still owe you—'
'Forget the money,' says Dad, a sudden edge to his voice. 'I want you to forget all about it, Emma. You don't owe us anything. Nothing at all.'
I honestly cannot take all this in. I look confusedly from Dad to Mum. Then back to Dad. Then, very slowly, back to Mum again.
And it's really strange. But it almost feels as though we're seeing each other properly for the first time in years. As though we're seeing each other and saying hello and kind of … starting again.
'We were wondering what you thought about taking a little holiday next year,' says Mum. 'With us.'
'Just … us?' I say, looking around the table.
'Just the three of us, we thought.' She gives me a tentative smile. 'It might be fun! You don't have to, of course, if you've got other plans.'
'No! I'd like to!' I say quickly. 'I really would. But … but what about …'
I can't even bring myself to say Kerry's name.
There's a tiny silence, during which Mum and Dad look at each other, and then away again.
'Kerry sends her love, of course!' says Mum brightly, as though she's changing the subject completely. She clears her throat. 'You know, she thought she might visit Hong Kong next year. Visit her father. She hasn't seen him for at least five years, and maybe it's time they … had some time together.'
'Right,' I say dazedly. 'Good idea.'
I can't believe this. Everything's changed. It's as if the entire family has been thrown up in the air and has fallen down in different positions, and nothing's like it was before.
'We feel, Emma,' says Dad, and stops. 'We feel … that perhaps we haven't been … that perhaps we haven't always noticed …' He breaks off and rubs his nose vigorously.
'Cappu-ccino,' says the waiter, planting a cup in front of me. 'Filter co-ffee, cappu-ccino … coffee cake … lemon cake … chocolate—'
'Thank you!' interrupts Mum. 'Thank you so much. I think we can manage from here.' The waiter disappears again, and she looks at me. 'Emma, what we want to say is … we're very proud of you.'
Oh God. Oh God, I think I'm going to cry.
'Right,' I manage.
'And we …' Dad begins. 'That is to say, we both — your mother and I —' He clears his throat. 'We've always … and always will … both of us …'
He pauses, breathing rather hard. I don't quite dare say anything.
'What I'm trying to say, Emma,' he starts again. 'As I'm sure you … as I'm sure we all … which is to say …'
He stops again, and wipes his perspiring face with a napkin.
'The fact of the matter is that … is that …'
'Oh, just tell your daughter you love her, Brian, for once in your bloody life!' cries Mum.
'I … I … love you, Emma!' says Dad in a choked-up voice. 'Oh Jesus.' He brushes roughly at his eye.
'I love you too, Dad,' I say, my throat tight. 'And you, Mum.'
'You see!' says Mum, dabbing at her eye. 'I knew it wasn't a mistake to come!' She clutches hold of my hand, and I clutch hold of Dad's hand, and for a moment we're in a kind of awkward group hug.
'You know … we're all sacred links in the eternal circle of life,' I say with a sudden swell of emotion.
'What?' Both my parents look at me blankly.
'Er, never mind. Doesn't matter.' I release my hand, take a sip of cappuccino, and look up.
And my heart nearly stops.
Jack is standing at the door of the coffee shop.
TWENTY-TWO
My heart is hammering in my chest as I stare at him through the glass doors. He puts out a hand, the door pings, and suddenly he's inside the coffee shop.
As he walks towards our table, I feel a rush of emotion. This is the man I thought I was in love with. This is the man who completely used me. Now the initial shock has faded, all the old feelings of pain and humiliation are threatening to take over and turn me to jelly again.
But I'm not going to let them. I'm going to be strong and dignified.
'Ignore him,' I say to Mum and Dad.
'Who?' says Dad, turning round in his chair. 'Oh!'
'Emma, I want to talk to you,' says Jack, his face earnest.
'Well, I don't want to talk to you.'
'I'm so sorry to interrupt.' He glances at Mum and Dad. 'If we could just have a moment …'
