Page 58
Story: Dead to Me
Seaton raised the knocker with a feeling of almost out-of-body anxiety. This was the kind of situation he dreaded beyond almost any other: a situation where he put himself at risk of humiliation, rejection and an emotional scene.
He’d almost convinced himself that he could leave it, letting Anna go to the ball without making any effort to fix this. He had, after all, only been reacting out of shock when he’d said those things.
But Seaton was familiar with the sense of shame that had descended on him after his daughter had left. It was one rooted in having let his family down over and over.
It was the shame of not being capable of proper familial emotions. Of being cold or judgemental when he should have been warm or loving. And onto this shame piled the increasing wretchedness of hours passing without being able to tell her the right words, even in a message.
He’d tried to salve his guilt by sending her money, but he knew it wasn’t enough. That it would probably revolt her. He’d found himself pacing around his big, immaculately cared-for garden, wishing he knew what to do, so that at least he’d feel he was caring for something. Tending to something.
He’d found himself halting in front of the big, pink peonies close to the tennis court he rarely used.
Albert Crousse , he thought with a sudden smile.
They were the only flowers he knew the name of, and that was down to Anna. She’d buried her face in one of the wide-open blooms what must have been three years before and told him peonies were her favourite flowers on earth.
‘What kind are they?’ she’d asked. ‘I want to get some for my balcony.’
Seaton, of course, hadn’t known and had gone to fetch ever patient Martin, who actually cared for these living things. And Martin had told her.
‘Oh my god, Albert Crousse? They sound like a curmudgeonly next-door neighbour,’ Anna had said, delighted. ‘How can they look so pretty? I love it.’
They were almost in bloom once again now, those big pink peonies. They always flowered late in their shaded position. All those pale pink Alberts just waiting to burst into flower, but Anna not here to see them. And maybe never here to see them again, because he’d been inexcusably vile to her.
You need to fix this , he’d thought, and hurried to the shed to find a pair of secateurs. You can’t keep avoiding all the hard parts of being a father.
He’d cut five of the blooms and wrapped them in paper towel. And then, as an afterthought, he’d gone to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of Roederer out of the fridge. They’d probably need a drink if they were going to talk about the tough stuff.
He’d packed them both into a bag (with the champagne in an ice pack) and set off for Anna’s house before he had time to give in to his anxiety. Though it had plenty of time to hit him as he waited for her to answer the door.
He was taken aback by the sight of her. She was already dressed for the ball, her hair curled and piled up until it looked like there was twice as much of it, and the black-and-silver dress he’d bought for her fitting her brilliantly.
Though, in many ways, it was the make-up that was the most striking.
It changed the shape of her face, somehow, making her seem untouchably glamorous. No longer quite his daughter.
The two of them looked at each other for a beat, and then she gave a small nod and a smile.
‘Would I… be able to come in?’ he asked.
He held the flowers out, and she gave a half-smile as she took them.
‘Sure,’ she said, and let him through into the kitchen.
The house smelled overwhelmingly of nail polish, but Seaton was too relieved that she’d let him in to say anything.
‘These are amazing… thank you,’ his daughter added, and he felt a strange note of pleasure in having given her something that she actually liked.
‘Look,’ he said, hovering awkwardly while she retreated to the kitchen to fill a vase with water.
‘I understand why you’ve not wanted to talk to me.
I just wanted to make sure you knew how…
how sorry I am about what I said.’ He cleared his throat.
‘I should probably explain why I did. It was more about Philip than anything else.’ He couldn’t help the pleading tone that crept into his voice.
‘He’s always been so incredibly supportive of me, in every way.
At difficult times in my life. And we’re…
close. We’ve always been close.’ He gave a frustrated sigh.
‘I felt like I’d let him down. And I was so busy thinking about that that I then let you down, and much more badly. ’
Anna fiddled with the flowers. He found himself wishing, intensely, that he knew her better. That he could read the nuances of her expressions. He didn’t know whether she was angry with him, or sad for him, or just taking this in.
It felt like a long time before she said, ‘I guess I understand. It’s… sometimes there are people who get under your skin.’
Seaton found himself skewered by the reality of that, and wanting to tell her that it was true of family, too.
Not just of Philip Sedgewick. But in the end, he said, ‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Then he cleared his throat and added, ‘You know, I really don’t think– at all– that you’re doing this for yourself.
I think it’s admirable, trying to find out the truth about Holly. It’s the right thing to do.’
Anna nodded at him and took a small breath. ‘Thanks, Dad. And for the dress and the hair and the make-up.’ She pulled a face. ‘I was about to have a breakdown about affording everything, and you saved me.’
Seaton felt that same sensation he’d felt when this had all started: the unique, aching joy of being able to do something for his daughter. ‘I… I know you don’t like to accept things from me, after I wasn’t there for you…’
Anna blinked. ‘I… what made you think that?’
There was a long moment in which they stared at each other, and then Seaton said, ‘After… your mother told me you didn’t want my help. She said it was a pride thing. I…’
Anna turned away from him. ‘I have honestly no idea where she got that,’ she said with a choked laugh.
‘Maybe she said we shouldn’t take things from you and I agreed with her because I’m a people-pleasing idiot, but…
I will tell you now I have zero pride when it comes to you feeling like you want to help out. ’
It felt as though he’d been struck. Or as though he’d discovered that the sky was the floor and the floor the sky.
He could have done so much… for all this time.
‘I always wanted to help,’ he said. It was all he could find to say.
‘That’s good,’ Anna replied.
Seaton felt keenly aware that they could have hugged. That any other father and daughter would have done and that it was probably the healthy thing to do.
Also, that the idea of actually doing it made him want to run right out of the door.
The two of them managed to nod it out, instead, and Seaton realised he could cover the awkwardness by pulling out the Roederer.
‘I thought… we might as well have a glass. To toast everything you’re doing, and have done.’
Anna grinned at him and ran for the cupboard with what looked like relief. ‘I guess it’ll be good for the nerves,’ she called over her shoulder.
‘Is there… anything I could help with in practical terms?’ he asked as he removed the foil with care. ‘Over the next few days?’
Anna paused on her way back to the table with the glasses. ‘Well, there’s one thing you could do, if you don’t mind a little breaking and entering…’
They spent twenty minutes planning a heist on Ryan Jaffett’s room, fuelled by pre-dinner champagne.
By the time Seaton left it was with a feeling of buzzing warmth that was only in part down to the champagne. By far the greatest part of it was feeling that he and Anna were finally going to be a proper father and daughter to each other.
Table of Contents
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- Page 58 (Reading here)
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