Page 118 of Kiss Me Like You Mean It

‘You used to do ballet?’ Phoebe asks Lee, interested.

Lee tips another pancake onto a plate for Phoebe and nods. ‘From when I was four until…’ she tilts her head, thinking, ‘about fourteen I guess.’

‘Why did you stop?’ Phoebe asks, bringing her plate to the table and sitting next to me.

‘My parents wanted me to go professional,’ Lee replies, leaning back against the counter. Her feet are crossed in front of her, and her toenails are painted a delicate shell pink. ‘But I really hated performing. I got terrible stage fright. I wanted dancing to be fun but they didn’t understand that, and it led to too many disagreements so in the end I quit.’

I digest that fact for a moment, another dark mark against Lee’s parents.

‘Why? Are you interested in doing ballet?’ Lee asks.

I snort out a laugh at that, but instantly realise my mistake. There’s a little flash of something hurt and vulnerable in Phoebe’s eyes and I put it there.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ I rush to say. ‘I didn’t think ballet would be your thing but if it is then I’m all for it.’

I glance at Lee, panicked. I hate this, the times where I fuck something up, where I think, with an awful clarity, wow, here is a moment my daughter will be bringing up in therapy someday.

Lee only blinks, her face calm as she brings her own plate with her to the table and takes the seat on my other side. She leans towards Phoebe and lowers her voice. ‘How can someone so pretty be so silly?’ she sighs, before turning to me, resting her chin in her hand. ‘Nico Hart, don’t you know women contain multitudes? Your daughter can be a badass grudge-holding astronomer and rock a tutu.’

Phoebe bursts into giggles, her expression instantly lightening. ‘Yeah, Dad,’ she echoes, her voice a verbal eye roll.

I know I’ll always be fighting a losing battle when it comes to these two. Why do I love it so much? ‘You’re absolutely right, I apologise.’

Lee gives a regal nod, which Phoebe copies.

‘Anyway, I think the dance studio in town offers beginner ballet classes,’ Lee says, sipping her coffee. She looks at me over the top of her cup. ‘Doesn’t Lacey teach them?’

‘I have no idea,’ I say, wondering how she knows about this, but Phoebe nods.

‘Yeah, some of the kids from school go. It’s on Mondays.’

‘So why don’t I take you on Monday?’ Lee asks, sending me a questioning look. ‘We can see if you like it.’

I nod eagerly. ‘Absolutely.’

‘Really?’ Phoebe looks so happy my heart squeezes.

Thank you, I mouth to Lee over Phoebe’s head when she’s not looking. Lee just smiles, gives a little shrug.

‘But before that we need to talk about Halloween,’ Phoebe says around a mouthful of pancakes. ‘It’s on Wednesday and we haven’t even discussed costumes.’

‘That’s right.’ I stifle a groan. No one mentions how many costume ideas you have to come up with as a parent. Every week at school seems to bring some new, themed event that I find out about at the last minute, leaving me scrabbling to make something impressive out of bin bags and parcel tape.

‘This year we can do a family costume!’ Phoebe declares.

‘A family costume?’ Lee repeats the words.

Phoebe slurps her juice. ‘Oh yeah, Charles will love it.’

It’s a bucket of cold water. My eyes meet Lee’s as the two of us remember what we’re all actually doing here. The lines between pretend and real shifted a long, long time ago, but Phoebe doesn’t know that, and I can’t tell her about it. Why confuse her when Lee is leaving in a week?

As far as my daughter is concerned, we’re pretending we’re one happy family, and if that thought hurts me it’s absolutely nothing to what I know Lee is feeling in this moment. Because she’s the one who has to leave all this behind, and I have a horrible feeling she wants to keep it just as much as I do.

Under the table I put my hand on her leg. She gives me the sort of blank, calm look that I know means she’s going through some serious emotional turmoil.

‘What about the Three Musketeers?’ Phoebe muses. ‘Taco can be Dogtanian.’

‘Maybe,’ I say distantly.