SIXTEEN
Reilly – An Hour Earlier
Another day, another eight hours slaving for someone else. Another batch of cookies, another birthday cake order, another twelve doughnuts filled with jam. And another day where I fight my desire for Elton.
I avoid asking Neive about him, but she brings him up at every opportunity, constantly making questioning glances every time she mentions his name.
She is good at a lot of things, but subtlety is not her strong suit.
She talks him up, telling me what a wonderful uncle he is.
How much money he donates to charity. How he tucks her into bed every night and even ends meetings early to make sure he says goodnight to her.
That one tugged at the heartstrings a lot.
The shop bell goes, and a dishevelled Neive bursts in, sobbing. I run around the counter and hold her tight until she calms down. She’s buried her face in her hands and is shaking with sorrow.
“Neive darling, what’s happened?” I usher her over to a stool, placing her backpack behind the counter. I want to check what’s in there to get a feel of the situation. Luckily, we are pretty quiet.
“It’s all going wrong, Reilly. I don’t know what to do.” She’s gasping for breath as she wails out the words.
“Take a deep breath, darling, and take your time.” We are going to get nowhere while she’s in this state. I hand her a glass of water, rubbing circles on her back while she settles herself. Her hands are shaking, and a mix of heartbreak and rage is written across her face.
“It’s my life. They can’t force me to do something I don’t want to do. I can’t. I won’t, they can’t make me.” I try not to bombard her with questions, but I have so many.
“Start at the beginning, Neive,” I prod, using a soothing tone.
She fills me in on her mum coming out of rehab and wanting to move to Wales. I’m shocked. I can’t believe Elton would allow this. They can’t remove Neive’s support system from her. MJ isn’t the only one healing.
“I’m scared, Reilly. What if it gets bad again?
I know this has all been thrown onto Uncle Elton, and I don’t want to be in the way.
He’s already given us so much, and I know how hard everything with Mum was on him.
Especially after everything with their own parents.
They think I don’t know, but I do. I know a lot more than they think I do.
” I believe every word she is saying. This girl is aware of more than she is given credit for.
There’s a lot more to this family than anyone is saying. Neive is on a roll, so I sit next to her patiently and let her get it all out. All her thoughts and feelings fall out of her mouth in any order they pop into her head.
“Neive, your uncle loves you and will do anything to make sure you are happy and safe. You need to sit down and have a conversation with him.”
“He won’t listen to me! He will just put Mum first. He always has, and he always will.” I am not touching that comment. That is one for a professional to work out.
Her phone rings on the counter; Elton’s name pops up.
Neive flips her phone over and ignores it.
I let her, she clearly needs space. He probably has no idea where she is.
I can’t imagine he’s happy about her making her way through Bournemouth by herself.
I go to serve a customer, giving Neive a chance to sort through more of her thoughts.
I check in her backpack; clothes, snacks, a torch, cash – a lot of cash. Where’s that come from?
I hand her a hot chocolate and pop a cupcake on a plate for us to share. Cherry Bakewell. Her favourite. I take a bite and watch her as she fiddles with the fork.
“I moved to Bournemouth with my mum when I was five,” I say.
“It was just the two of us. I didn’t know my father, never met him.
He wanted nothing to do with me. My mum had me under, shall we say, less desirable circumstances.
” Neive wipes her nose on the sleeve of her hoodie and stares up at me.
Her cheeks are red, and her eyes are bloodshot. I hand her a napkin.
“When I was about fourteen, I decided enough was enough. We were struggling. Mum worked two jobs. We had nothing. Well, we had everything we needed, but I didn’t understand why he didn’t contact us or help.
I was angry and confused. Normal teenage stuff combined with an MIA parent.
I knew who he was – Dorothy told me once when she had had a few too many glasses of wine.
” The memory brings a smile to my face; it probably shouldn’t, but a drunk Dorothy is a funny Dorothy.
She ranted and raved about my father that night.
She showed me a picture of him. A wealthy businessman in London.
Married, three kids. Beautiful well-put-together family.
That’s why he never claimed me. He already had the perfect set up.
“I decided I deserved answers. I packed a bag and took ￡200 out of the emergency fund Mum kept in the Tupperware behind the fridge. I planned to train it to London, go to his office and confront him.”
“What happened?” Neive’s phone is vibrating again. I’m guessing Elton is still trying to call. I need to tell him she’s safe.
“I got all the way to the outside of his building when my mum rang. The school had called to tell her I hadn’t turned up.
She yelled, I cried. I yelled, she cried.
And I made my way home.” I still apologise for that day to Mum.
“I was terrified when I got back. I thought she was going to hit the roof. But she just hugged me as I sobbed in her arms. And she said sorry. She was sorry she hadn’t confided in me about everything.
Sorry I was without a father, and sorry I was abandoned.
“Our relationship was strained for a while. We were so angry with each other. But we got through it. We learned to be open about our feelings and our anger. We healed together.” Neive sniffs and I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.
“You can’t heal alone, Neive. You need your family. But us adults aren’t perfect, and we make mistakes all the time. We need just as much space to do that as you do.”
She huffed and leaned into me. “Can you take me home?” I squeeze her and blow out a breath, grabbing my phone to call the man I’ve been hiding my own feelings from.
~
Elton pulls Neive into his arms, and my heart breaks as tears fall down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I panicked. It was stupid, I know,” Neive sobs out.
“Running away from your problems is not the answer, Neive.” His tone is sharp and Neive flinches and drops her head. I can sense how angry Elton is, and as much as he tries to hide it, it’s coming through.
“Maybe everyone needs to take the night to rest,” I say. “And it can be discussed in the morning.” I hope I’m not speaking out of turn here. Neive hugs me and drags her backpack upstairs.
“She’s got a large wad of cash in there,” I say.
He doesn’t respond, only stares after her as she ascends the stairs.
“What do I do here, Reilly?” He sounds deflated and in need of guidance.
“I don’t have kids, but I was a teenager once.
You remember that feeling. You feel alone and like no one listens to you.
You have all these ideas and opinions, but everyone treats you like you’re still a little kid.
” He turns to me with sadness in his eyes.
“Talk to her, Elton, and give her space to blow up. She has big feelings and doesn’t know how to handle them. ”
He makes his way into the kitchen and pours us both a glass of wine, handing me one. “Have a drink with me. I don’t want to be alone,” he admits timidly. He needs to talk. He needs as much support as Neive. I appreciate the honesty from him.