Chapter 6
22nd December
Queenstown, NZ
Will
Can I get Kat out of my system? The answer is no. She stirs and sighs in her sleep. I rub my face. I've been awake for the last hour or so. Analyzing, plotting and planning how to make this work. How to make us work.
Kat opens her blue eyes and puts a palm on my face. Her caress calms the madness going on in my brain instantly.
“Good morning, you. Did you sleep well?”
I can't lie to her. I pick up her palm from my cheek, kiss it, and put it back on my cheek. “The first part I slept well, the second part I couldn't sleep at all. Too many thoughts. Too many plans.”
She bites her lip. “We’ll make it work.”
“Do you want to move to Monaco at all?” I ask half joking, half serious.
“Not 100% sold on the idea, Will. Plus, what would I do for a job in Monaco?”
My first instinct is to say she doesn't need to work, not now or ever, but my mind tells me it's a bad idea. Instead I say, “Okay. We'll look at other options.”
She opens her mouth to presumably ask what the other options are, but probably thinks better of it.
I change subject. “Two days till Christmas Eve. How about we have a big family get together. Your mum and dad, my mum and dad, and Daryl and John. How does that sound?”
She hoists herself up on one elbow to the side and looks at me incredulously. “Are you serious?”
“This could be a great idea. This could also be a terrible idea. They already know each other, and they already do business together. My dad buys your dad's flour. I'm pretty sure your parents go to their lodge for lunch or dinner sometimes, isn't that the case?”
Kat shrugs. “That's true, but they're very different people. If you think it's gonna work, then let's try.”
I elaborate. “Doesn't have to be something fancy, we could even do a pre-Christmas barbecue if the weather's nice. Sit outside, have some drinks, eat some meat.”
Kat sags down on my chest. “Sold. What's for breakfast?”
A bout of euphoria takes me, and I reply. “You.”
Kat heads off home, and my whole body feels weightless, like I'm walking on the clouds surrounding Coronet Peak. I check myself in the mirror and I'm grinning like a fool. Oh, I've got it bad. I've always had it bad when it comes to Kat.
I just hope this dinner comes together. What's the worst that could happen? I pick up my wallet, phone and keys, and make the journey to my family to discuss the pre-Christmas BBQ. From time to time I glance at my phone, hoping for a message from Kat.
Kat
Both cars are at home. Shit. It means my parents stayed in, and I'm going to get a stern talking to. I'm not sixteen anymore, I'm twenty-two. More importantly, I haven't lived with them for four years. I square my shoulders and step in the hallway.
“Kat? Is that you?”
My mum's voice rings out of the lounge. I take a deep breath and walk into World War Three.
“Yes, who else,” I say defensively.
“You were out last night.” My mum is doing the interrogation, my dad is keeping schtum. Are they going to play good cop, bad cop this time?
“Yes.”
“When are you going to stop clowning around and become a responsible adult?” My dad takes the first stab.
“I am a responsible adult, Dad. I don't live here anymore, remember? I live in England with Aunt Gem. I'm just visiting for Christmas.”
I keep my calm and take a seat on the sofa opposite to them. If I just try to reason with them, it won't end in tears.
“You should be here, going with Dad to the flour mill every day. It's your legacy, Katarina. You're a Featherstone.” My mum says, twisting in the knife.
I sigh. “Mum, let's not start with this. Please. I've come to spend time with you over the holidays. Then I'm going back.”
Mum mills this over and changes tack. “And where were you last night? You treat this house like a hotel.”
I swallow, holding onto the shreds of my composure. “I was with Will, mum. We're both adults.”
“Will is…” My dad tips his head left and right, searching the ceiling for the right word. “Will. He’s a good boy, but he's got his own path. Very different from yours.” My dad's words sting.
I put my head in my hands. “I suppose now would be a good time to suggest a pre-Christmas barbecue with Will's family.”
My parents lean back on the sofa, pondering.
“Are you two… serious?” my dad enquires.
I shrug my shoulders, and keep my fears to myself. “We're giving it a go, dad. Who knows what's going to happen.”
Mum nods. “His parents are lively people but they're very … different to us.” My dad purses his lips. “They always vote Left. Word goes they don't want any money off Will.”
My dad leans forward. “But for your sake we'll go there. We do good business together, me and Fritz.”
I exhale. “Ok, I'll tell Will you're keen. Now if you excuse me, I have some things to take care of.”
I glance at my phone. No messages from Will. No less than twelve messages from Auntie Gem, begging me to come back straight after Christmas. I compose a message about me and Will, but leave it in drafts. It's not something to say in a text. I'll save it for our next call.
In my room, I pick up the Christmas gift I've been working on for the last couple of days. The leather shines in the sunlight. I hope he'll love it. The idea that he could wear something I've made fills me with joy. A part of me, close to him forever. God, I'm falling hard. I pick up my phone again and type a message to Will.
Kat: All clear on this end. Wbu?
I open Instagram and check out his profile, like I've taken to doing several times a day. A reply pops up.
Will: Yep, sorted. We can do it tonight or tomorrow, my folks are easy.
I drop the phone on my toes and squeal. He replied so fast.
Kat: Tonight it is then, don't want to give mine the chance to change their minds ??
Will: It will be fine.
Will: I miss you.
I nearly drop my phone again. He misses me! I press it to my chest.
Kat: Miss you too. See you tonight. Do we need to bring anything?
Will: Maybe dessert?
Will: And you.
I reply with a kiss emoji, and storm downstairs. “Mum, we're going there tonight for a BBQ. Need to make dessert. I'm thinking of making my homemade raspberry lamington.”
My mum peeks from behind the door. “I'm not sure if we have coconut, darling. Stan, Stan! You need to go to the shop for some baking ingredients. Our Kat needs to impress the de Jongs.”
My dad puts down his newspaper and mutters something about how the de Jongs better impress us instead, but he takes his keys and waves.
I wave back. “I'll text you what I need, dad. Thank you.”
I put my apron on, pin my hair in a messy bun and clap my hands. “Let's do this!”