Page 86 of Darling

“I thought you were going to South Carolina?”

He looks irritated with me for asking. “I did go to South Carolina, then I went to Florida.”

“I see. Well, since I’m back on my feet and at work, I wondered if you had a date yet for when you’d be going back to work yourself?”

He keeps his expression completely neutral. “I don’t have a date yet, no.”

I nod and wait. After a moment of painful silence, I say, “Anything you want to tell me?”

“I really like that shirt you’re wearing,” he deadpans. “Makes you look ten years younger.”

“Leo,” I warn.

He lets out a noise of exasperation. “What?? What is it you want me to say, fucking hell.”

“Iwantyou to watch your mouth.”

“Fine. What is it you would like me to say, Dad?”

I take a deep breath. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d left theculture department?”

“Why do you think?”

“I’ve no bloody idea!” I yell, regretting it immediately. “Tell me what’s going on, Leo.”

“Oh, you’re gonna have to be a bit more specific, Dad,” he laughs hollowly. “Dead mum, fucked leg, no job, my dad almost died—my dad who thinks I’m a waste of fucking space—”

“What? No, I do—”

“Guess we can add my hair to the list now, too,” he says right over me. “Girlfriend left me, too, did you know that? No, probably not. Well, yeah, she did—said I had no ‘life plan’. And that barely covers half of it, so, like, yeah, lot going on at the moment, pops.” Stunned, I take a moment to look at him. How had I missed this? When had he turned from happy, kind, loyal Leo to this bitter, resentful young man?

“I don’t think you’re a waste of space, Leo, bloody hell, where has that come from?” He shakes his head and refuses to look at me. “Why did you leave the job? Lying to them about a role with me that didn’t exist, do you realise how that looks?”

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about—how it looks.”

“I’m worried about a lot of things right now, son, you mainly.”

He’s already standing from the couch. “Look, Dad. I’m fine, okay. I’m living off savings right now so I’m good for money, you don’t need to worry about me. Are we done?”

I blink, shaking my head. “What? No. We’ve barely bloody started.” I can feel my temper flaring, which is something I rarely let happen with Leo. With anyone. “What have you been doing for the last six months? For work? With your time?”

He gives me a look, like he’s debating something. “Nothing,” he says.

“Nothing?”

“Yeah. Not a thing.”

I suck in a deep breath, trying desperately for patience. As I’m about to open my mouth, my mobile rings, the name flashing across the screen is Jasmine Thewlis. The same Jasmine Thewlis who happens to be Prime Minister of the United Kingdom.

“Don’t worry about it, Dad. I’ll see myself out.”

“This conversation isn’t finished, Leo.”

“Sure, Dad. Stick something in the diary and we’ll circle back,” he says as he pulls the office door closed behind him. With another deep breath, I answer the call.

“Prime Minister,” I greet. “Nice to hear from you.”

“You’ve called me worse, Chris,” Jasmine says with a familiar, throaty laugh. “How the devil are you?”