don’t care what they want to read,” Marcus growled, his face inches from hers. “I want to find my daughter. Poppy’s only seventeen, and she’s run away from home.”
He’d eventually tracked his daughter down, and after years of neglect spent chasing after those damned Michelin stars he’d scaled back on his business commitments and worked hard to rebuild his relationship with Poppy.
On impulse, he scrolled to her number. “Poppy?”
“Dad? Wasn’t expecting to hear from you today.”
“Hello, darling. Just calling to tell you I love you.”
“I…I love you, too.” Her voice wobbled.
Immediately alerted that something was wrong, Marcus said sharply, “What’s the matter?”
She sniffled. “Nothing, really. Just…today was a really crap day at school, and then,” she drew in a soft, shuddery breath “and then Jez broke up with me.”
“Oh, sweetheart – I’m sorry. I know you really liked Jeremy.”
“I did. He was different to the others. Or at least,” she added bitterly, “I thought he was.” She paused. “His family’s moving house.”
“Are you at school now?”
“Yes. You said you wouldn’t be home at the weekend, so I couldn’t see the point in going back to Aughton to be alone there, when I can just as easily be alone h-here.”
Marcus let out a short breath. “Pack your things. I’m coming up to fetch you.”
There was a beat of silence. “What?” A note of hope was contained in the word. “But - you said you’re filming, you’d be busy—”
“I know I did, but things have changed. We’ve wrapped early. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
“Okay. I’ll get my stuff packed.” Poppy paused. “Thanks, Dad.”
“No worries, love. We’ll spend the weekend together. Have fun. See you soon.”
He rang off and sighed as he scrolled back to Valery’s number. She wouldn’t be happy to learn he wasn’t coming, that much was certain, but it couldn’t be helped. Poppy was heartbroken. She needed her dad. Marcus knew what he was giving up – a weekend spent in bed with Valery, crumb-laden sheets, reading the papers together over coffees on Sunday morning – but he was gaining something more important…
…time with his daughter, precious time; and a chance to make amends.
“Valery,” he began as she answered his call, “it’s me again. Listen, about this weekend…”
The minute Jools returned home late Sunday afternoon, her mum appeared in the front hall, coffee cup in hand.
“Where’s your father?” she asked.
So much for ‘hello, darling, and how was your weekend?’ Jools thought, and dropped her rucksack on the floor at her feet. “He went back to the car to get something. Mail for you that came to his by mistake, I think.”
She knew by the arch of her mother’s brow and the ever-present cup of coffee in her hand – one of many today, no doubt – that she was over-caffeinated and spoiling for a fight.
“Have you been working?” Jools asked warily.
“Yes, I have. Someone in this household has to earn money to pay your outrageous school fees next year.”
She bristled. “Dad’s paying my tuition, too, and I’ll get myself a job—”
“You can’t work a job and be a full-time student, Julia. Not if you expect to succeed, that is.”
Oliver pushed the door to and stepped inside. “Hello, Valery.” His expression was cautious. “What’s going on? Why the raised voices?” He handed his ex-wife several envelopes. “These are yours, I believe.”
“Mum’s on at me about school fees again,” Jools muttered, and rolled her eyes skyward. “She’s in a mood, as usual.”
“Don’t roll your eyes,” Valery snapped. “It’s rude. And don’t speak as if I’m not in the room. I won’t have it. I’m still your mother and as such I deserve respect.”
“I wasn’t speaking to you.” Jools glared at her. “I was speaking to dad.”
“I don’t think Jools meant any disrespect,” Oliver said. “She was just making an observation, that’s all.”
“Yes, take her side, like you always do.” Valery’s words were like acid, corrosive and destructive. “That’s why she’s so difficult now – because you’ve always spoiled her and made me out to be the bad parent because I’m the one who has the balls to discipline her!”
“That’s not true,” he said, his tone reasonable despite the anger her words stirred in him. His glance went to her coffee cup and back. “Perhaps you need to cut back on that a bit.”
“Perhaps I need to switch to bourbon instead.” And she turned on one stockinged foot and stalked off to the kitchen.
Oliver and Jools exchanged glances.
“Will you be all right?” he asked softly.
She nodded, resigned to her mum’s moods. “I’ll be okay, I’m used to it. It’s probably Marcus. They must’ve had a row. Or maybe,” she added, “she got word that yellow is the new black,” and attempted a smile. “She hates yellow.”
Oliver grinned. “She does. It’s far too cheery for the likes of her.” He reached out and chucked her under the chin. “I’m off, Lady J. Try not to upset your mum.”
“I’ll try. But no guarantees.” She reached up on tiptoe and kissed him goodbye. “Thanks, dad. See you next time.”
He kissed her back and left, shutting the door quietly behind him.
With a wary glance in the direction of the kitchen, Jools went upstairs to her bedroom and called Adesh.
“Hey, Jools, what’s up?” he asked. “Just got back from your dad’s, then?”
“Yeah. Great weekend it was, too. I met his new girlfriend.” Jools added, “It’s Miss Brightly.”
Adesh let out a snort of laughter. “Wasn’t she your Latin teacher last year? Cripes.” He paused. “I’ve heard she’s pretty hot, though…for a teacher, anyway.”
Jools rolled over on her back and stared up at the ceiling. “I can’t even imagine her and my dad shagging. Ugh.”
“So don’t think about it.”
“Easy
