Page 37 of Love at First Sight

I feel like the feisty female protagonist in a movie, as if life is suddenly a montage of me planning, sending emails and finalising details, all set to a thrumming music track about how the days have just begun and the rest of my life is unwritten.

I’m on fire – which is good, because then I can ignore the dull ache in my heart for Henry.

I see things, think things, and then remember I can’t tell him about them.

I can only hope that Ali calms down and we reach a place where I can still see him, take him out for hot chocolate or to the park sometimes.

In the meantime, I’m living off savings as I connect with the council to rearrange the Health and Safety assessment, and watch in awe as the pub wall gets transformed into a beautiful mural advertising us.

India texts me the newsletter subscriber numbers every night, and it’s climbing steadily.

Ramona has been true to her word and helped where she can, spreading the word of the project around and encouraging everyone she knows to tell their networks about it.

She says she desperately wants it to be a success, and so she’s happy to tell as many people as possible, which is very, very sweet.

At the gym, I find I have new strength. There’s something about standing up for yourself, about taking the lead and going after what you want, that suddenly makes you very She-Hulk.

‘Yes, Jessie!’ Rain, our PT, cheers after I squat eighty-eight kilos three times. ‘Somebody has been eating their protein.’

I grin and say, ‘I’m feeling good.’

In between sets, Zoya asks if anyone knows much about the new thing happening at the park this summer.

‘My sister is desperate for it – some kind of free-range kids movement? I said I’d ask around. There’s a big advert for it on the art wall at the Hope and Anchor.’

‘That’s Stray Kids,’ says India, gleefully. ‘That’s Jessie’s thing! It’s going to be so good!’

Everyone turns to stare at me.

‘You kept that quiet,’ Rain says. ‘I’m on the newsletter list for that. My two will love it. Can you bump me up to VIP, so we definitely get in?’

‘If you’re doing that for her, you’ve gotta do that for my niece and nephew too, please,’ Zoya says. ‘Pretty please.’

I strip my barbell and say, ‘I’m feeling very flattered by your interest, guys. Thank you.’

‘So what’s the deal? Is this a new business venture for you?’ Rain asks. ‘Because you know I’m all about local enterprises. We’ve got a community WhatsApp group you can join where we all talk about Stokey’s business stuff, and we meet once a month in person too. You want in?’

I nod. ‘Yes!’ I say. ‘Thanks! Anything that could help.’

‘We could have helped sooner if you’d said what you were up to!’ Zoya says. ‘Do you need an extra pair of hands? I’ve got a DBS certificate so I’m cleared to work with kids. I don’t want any of my own, but I’d help you out for a few hours.’

‘Hop aboard,’ I say. ‘The more volunteers the better. I think my dad is going to volunteer too. After the break-up he’s looking for some wholesome activities to fill his days. I can’t think of anything better than doing this surrounded by my favourite people!’

‘How’s your dad doing?’ India asks me later. ‘Still good?’

‘As far as I know,’ I say. ‘I’ve been so busy I’ve not checked on him as much as I’d like to, but I’m actually seeing him this afternoon for a quick coffee. I want to fill him in on everything.’

‘Nice,’ India says. ‘Tell him I say hi?’

‘Will do,’ I say.

But Dad isn’t okay. It is immediately obvious as I approach the house, because all the curtains are drawn. Something sinks in my stomach, my body clocking what my brain knows to be true: he’s drunk. I know it.

‘Hello?’ I say, using my key to let myself in. ‘Dad?’

He’s expecting me, so I don’t feel like I’m about to walk in on him doing a fan dance in the nude or anything, but then again, if he’s expecting me why hasn’t he cleaned up?

The house feels fusty and has a strange smell.

I spy Dad in the kitchen, at the far end of the dark hallway.

He is slumped forward in his chair, and I lunge forward to see if he’s breathing. He looks pale and cold and … dead.

‘Dad?’ I say, hand on his head, lifting it up to see if he’s breathing. ‘Dad!’

‘I’m up, I’m up,’ he says, slurring his words. His eyes adjust when he sees me, smiling as he says, ‘Jessie! You’re early!’

‘We said three p.m., Dad,’ I say, glancing up at the kitchen clock to confirm I really do have the right time. ‘Have you been drinking?’ I ask. ‘Do you normally fall asleep at the table this way?’

‘Oh, stop fussing,’ Dad says, waving a hand. ‘I had a beer with lunch is all. Must have dozed off.’

I look over at the recycling bin, where there’s more than one beer can sitting atop it. He sees me notice.

‘Three beers, then,’ he says. ‘So shoot me.’

I don’t understand. He was doing so well the last time I saw him. And today he … smells. ‘Dad, have you showered today?’ I ask. ‘No judgement, but …’

‘Oh, for god’s sake,’ he mutters. ‘No, okay? No. I haven’t. I couldn’t be arsed. It’s all been a bit …’

And he looks so lost and forlorn, so much like a man who wishes he was doing better than this, that I throw my arms around him and say, ‘It’s okay, Dad. I get it. I don’t mean to sound bossy. You just worried me, then, for a moment. I thought you were bloody dead!’

‘No, no,’ he says. ‘Just a bit of the old depression tugging on my jacket sleeve. I thought I’d cracked it, but that feeling only lasted a few days. Now it all just seems so …’

‘I get it,’ I say. ‘Being alone can be hard.’

He looks at me, nods.

‘Yeah.’

‘Go shower. Let me help you clean up a bit, okay? And then we’ll eat, and drink coffee, and talk. Sound good?’

Dad agrees that it does, and I set to work opening the back doors, all the windows, pulling on rubber gloves to tackle the washing-up and take out the dirty containers from what looks like Indian, Thai and Chinese.

The place is better in no time, so that when Dad is back downstairs, clean-shaven and wet-haired and barefoot, the whole place has done a one-eighty.

‘I don’t deserve you,’ he says, coming to ruffle my hair and kiss my temple.

‘Of course you do,’ I say. ‘I feel bad I’ve not been around more. I’m sorry. I should have checked on you. A break-up is hard, a broken engagement even harder. We’re family. Actual family.’

‘Is there any other kind? Than actual family? Is there fake family?’

‘Kind of,’ I say. ‘Like Henry is to me, though Ali sacked me. Or I quit.’

‘Oh,’ Dad says, and out of anyone, he’s the one who understands the magnitude of this. It was Ali who helped him through his brain tumour, after all, with all her connections and access. ‘Well. Maybe it was time?’

‘Apparently so,’ I say.

‘And anyway, I was in the middle of telling you what a fantastic daughter you are.’

‘Dad! Come on!’

‘No!’ he says. ‘I’m serious! You are! I’ve been thinking about it a lot.

Dads and daughters, that’s real life. That’s where it’s at.

I want to see you more, Jessie, share more with you.

Let’s not be strong for each other any more, let’s be proper friends.

I love spending time with you, I really do.

Women might come and even go in the future, but I promise, you’re my top girl, always and forever. All right?’

‘All right, Dad,’ I say. ‘That …’ I start to well up. ‘I’ve just wanted to hear you say that for ages, you know? You’re my dad! I need you! And I’ve missed you!’

‘Come here,’ he says, pulling me in for a hug. ‘Now. What’s going on with Ali? You okay?’

I tell him about how she said I couldn’t do Stray Kids, about meeting Ramona, and how after the Health and Safety fail I lost it and decided to take back control.

I even explain about Cal getting dumped, and how I asked him to leave even though I didn’t really want to.

Dad nods, and eventually asks: ‘Are you going to call this Cal, now Ali isn’t a consideration? Because if I may be so bold …’

‘You may,’ I say.

‘Well,’ Dad says. ‘You sound kind of gaga for him.’

I look at him. ‘I guess I could call him now, yeah. I probably owe it to myself, don’t I?’

Dad smiles. ‘I’d say so,’ he tells me. ‘He sounds kind of perfect.’

‘Really?’ I say. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘The way your eyes go all dreamy when you talk about him.’

‘They do not!’ I squeal. ‘Shut up!’

‘They do!’ Dad says. ‘It’s nice to see! You should be happy, Jessie. Don’t let anyone stand in the way of that.’

‘Hmmm,’ I say. ‘Well. I deleted his number so I couldn’t text him in a moment of weakness, and apparently he’s on holiday. I’m just going to focus on Stray Kids. That’s what’s most important to me right now.’

‘Okay,’ Dad says. ‘What do I know, anyway? Right?’

‘Wrong,’ I say. ‘You know everything. Which is why I’m hoping you might volunteer with Stray Kids for a while? I’d love to have you on board …’

‘Oh, that’s a given!’ he says. ‘Of course! You tell me what you need, and I’ll get to it.’

‘Thank you, Dad,’ I say. ‘I love you. And I like you.’

‘I love you, and I like you, too.’