Page 70 of How We Began

Ben’s been a trooper, cooking for everyone and basically stopping me from having a complete meltdown from the stress of it all. He cooks, and I make tea and coffee, even if it does taste like pee.

Every night, he stays in my room or I stay in his. He plays guitar until I fall asleep and then just curls himself around me.

Every morning, I wake up wishing that it never had to end, but I know that it does.

Today I realised with a shock that Tristan and Meredith are going to need that flat in Putney in the next few months. My dad is still failing at being Father of the Year and is threatening to sell it. I need to sort this out. Tristan can’t pay the price for my mistakes. Tomorrow, I’m going to have it out with Daddy Dearest.

21st January

(11.13 a.m.)

I called Dad’s work number. “Sheila, it’s Lilah. Is my dad there?” I asked before listening to Dad’s secretary’s response.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

I listened again as she blustered through excuses. I’ve known her for years and can tell when she’s covering. She was lying out of her arse.

“Tell him to man up and talk to me before he ends up losing his entire family.”

Well, that went well.

I’ll try again later.

(2.00 p.m.)

He called back.

“Lilah, it’s your father. Kindly please don’t leave me rude messages. Sheila doesn’t need to deal with your erratic behaviour.”

“Dad, we need to talk about the flat.” I tried to stay calm and level, friendly even, focusing on Tristan and Meredith and the plight they were in.

“No. How about we talk about you.”

“Dad, I’m twenty-six, are we still doing this? I can make my own choices, but you can’t make Tristan pay for them. Please.”

I hated saying ‘please’ but I knew it might help. I lit a cigarette to make it more palatable.

“It’s too late, Lilah. I have already instructed the Estate Agents.”

“Please, Dad! Let me make it up to you, I’ll do anything. Just don’t let Tristan lose his home because of me.”

Silence. I stupidly thought he was breaking.

“Come back to the bank, and we will forget all about it.” Nope, he wasn’t breaking, nowhere even close. The only thing breaking was my sanity.

“What?”

“You heard me. Come back to the bank, and we will forget about it.”

“How about if I try and pay you for half of the flat, Dad?”

I had the cash in my rainy-day fund, minus the Gibson.

“No dice, Delilah.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. I love being at Uni.”

I sighed with frustration.