Chapter 7
Will
I wince at Daryl's black and gold shirt. “Don't you have something else to wear? The Featherstones are coming.”
Daryl sips a glass of prosecco and looks me straight in the eye. “They're not the Royal family. You, little bro, can go fuck yourself.”
“Language!” My dad shouts from the charcoal barbecue grill.
Daryl rolls his eyes. John comes outside with a tray of fresh bread buns. We're ready, now we're just waiting for Kat and her family. They're running ten minutes late.
My mum is huffing and I see it's going to be a slog uphill tonight.
“Maybe text her to see where they are.”
“I messaged her ten minutes ago, they're coming, hold your horses.”
A car stops outside, and the garden gate swings open tentatively. “Yoo-hoo, we're here!” Kat's voice sounds tentative.
“Come in!” My mum slips into her hostess role, well honed by her years at the lodge.
I see Kat first, and need slams me like fresh snow. She's wearing a knee length skirt with pockets and a tank top. Demure, 50s style, yet to me mouthwatering. My family is exchanging hugs and handshakes with Kat's parents, but I'm under a spell.
“Ehem.” Someone's clearing their throat and it snaps me out of my daydream.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Featherstone.” I shake hands with them. “Glad you could come at such short notice.”
“Hey.” Kat kisses me on the cheek before I get a chance to do more and gives a tray to my mum. “I made some raspberry lamington. My special recipe.”
She brought out the big guns. My parents look suitably impressed. Daryl nods.
John says, “I adore lamington. Can't wait to try yours.”
“Would everyone like a drink?” I scan the inventory. “There's beer, cider, bubbly, ginger beer…”
I take orders and hand out drinks to everyone.
Kat just grabs a ginger beer. “I'm the sober driver,” she explains.
Stan, Kat’s dad, leans forward. “When is the next race on the circuit, Will?”
I pick up an olive to stall my answer, trying to understand the undertone of Kat's father's question.
“March in the Emirates. I'm not fully free until then, with training and car development, but I intend to spend as much time with Kat as possible, wherever she is in the world.”
Mr Featherstone nods and takes a sip of his drink. Phew.
“What a pretty outfit, Kat. Love your skirt. Did you make it?” My mum is all sugar and honey.
Kat smooths her skirt and smiles shyly. “I did, Mrs de Jong. I've always loved making my own.”
“Of course you have, dear.” My mom’s smile is as bright as the sun. “Are you planning your own fashion business?”
Kat’s eyes get dreamy. “Yes. Upcycled fashion right now. But one day… my own business.”
I could easily help her with that. Very easily. Would she take my help? That's another matter altogether.
“Childish dreams.” Kat's mum tutts. “What Kat needs is to come back here where she belongs and manage the flour mill.”
My dad speaks too loudly, likely cutting off a conversation he’s recognized is quickly becoming awkward. “Oh, and what wonderful quality the flour is, as always. I made the bread with Featherstone flour. My compliments. I've never had a bad batch.”
Kat's parents look so pleased they could explode. I grab Kat's hand and kiss it. Slowly we're making progress. Very slowly.
The dads move to the barbecue, the mums discuss salads, Daryl and John have already made themselves scarce.
I grab Kat and spirit her away to a quiet spot in the garden, sheltered by some climbing roses, out of direct sight from the seating area. I wrap my arms around her, and we kiss like flames, hungry for each other and starved for oxygen. “It's been ten hours. But who's counting.” I sigh.
Kat bursts out laughing. “You're terrible. I missed you too.” She nods back at the parents. “How do you think it's going?”
“Not too bad.” I pull her closer. “It's getting better by the minute. “
She laughs but her laughter dies when a shout rings out and agitated voices carry through the air. I grab her hand and we stride fast back to the pergola.
“Fritz here was saying we don't pay enough taxes.” Kat's dad, on the slippery slope to drunkenness, is spoiling for a fight.
I sigh and attempt a joke to diffuse the situation. “I pay enough tax for all of us combined.”
Silence ensues and I notice the burger patties and sausages darkening on the charcoal barbecue. My dad must have been extra incensed otherwise he wouldn't have let them get to that stage. I raise my eyebrows at Kat, and she jumps up to help. We’re of one mind.
“I'll just quickly get this meat off the grill,” I say. “Kat, could you please start plating the food?”
My mum comes to help first. “Oh, you don't have to do that Kat, you're a guest. Let me…”
Kat smiles her charming smile. “Oh you've done so much already, Mrs de Jong. Sit down, sip your drink and enjoy a much needed rest.”
My mum, mollified, sits back down.
“Smells yum!” Daryl and John come back out. Daryl's ridiculously shiny shirt is crumpled. I shake my head but don't say anything.
When Kat finishes serving everyone, she hands me my plate and grabs her plate, and we sit down. Crisis averted. I gaze around and everyone is eating in silence.
“So how is this lodge going, Nina? Still lots of business?” Kat's mum is making conversation, but my mum is on edge.
“It's going well, Claire. We're about 70% occupancy year round. Busier in winter, less busy in summer. There's also the restaurant 3 days a week. We get by.” She shrugs, and my nails dig in my palm. If only they would take my help. I clear my throat.
Kat notices I'm unsettled. “Are you ok, darling?”
I pat the top of her leg covered by the skirt. “Yes. Just choked on some crumbs.”
She nods and doesn't press. No doubt she'll ask me later about it. Kat turns to my mom instead. “That was exquisite. Thank you.” Then to everyone, she says, “Who'd like dessert?”
My mum springs to her feet. “I'll help you serve this time. Can't wait to try your lamington.”
Kat nods and takes off inside with my mum, leaving me in the lions’ den.
“I won't beat about the bush, Will. I don't think you and my daughter are a good match.” Kat's dad’s words slice me in two.
Kat's mum tries to intervene, but he stops her. “Let me finish, my sweet.” He turns to me again. “You have tons of money, fancy cars and whatever else”—he makes a dismissive gesture with his hand—“but Kat has a future here, with us, growing the flour mill business.”
My dad explodes. I've never seen him this red in the face. “I will not tolerate you disrespecting my son, or this house. Please leave!”
“Fritz, you've got to be reasonable.” Claire, Kat's mum intervenes.
It's like watching a tennis match, but I’m no passive observer. I’m the ball.
“With all due respect, Mr and Mrs Featherstone,” I say, “Kat and I are both adults.”
At that point, Kat and my mum walk outside of the kitchen with the cut Lamington portions.
“Kat, we're all going home now.” The icy glint in her dad’s eyes tells a thousand stories. Her mum is picking up her handbag and nodding goodbye. Kat places the plate on the table and mouths a question to me. “What happened?”
I blink to let her know we'll talk later.
“I'm sorry the evening's been cut short. I'll see you all later.” Kat smiles and waves at everyone; she blows me a kiss. It's not enough. I follow her out the gate, envelop her in my arms and kiss her like my life depends on it. She sighs and whispers, “Talk later.”
I walk back into the broken shards of what could have been the perfect evening.
“ What the fuck did I just witness?” Daryl is stuffing lamington in his mouth.
My dad has his head in his hands. “You know this means we'll have to sever the business relationship. I'll need to start buying flour from somewhere else.” He shakes his head in disgust.
Daryl licks his spoon. “It's like Romeo and Juliet. But with baking .”
“Shut up Daryl”. My dad and I speak at the same time.
Mum leans against me. “I'm sorry, Will. We tried our best.”
“Mum, Dad, Kat and I are adults. With all due respect, I'm not going to stop seeing her because of some ridiculous reason. I love her.”
Daryl chokes on a piece of lamington. John smacks his back.
“What?” I ask belligerently.
Daryl coughs and catches his breath. “I mean of course you love her. It’s just that you're both living in different countries and you've got a busy schedule.”
I stubbornly hold onto my hill to die on. “We'll make it work. I don't know how, but as long as she wants it, we'll make it work.”
I pick up the empty plates and carry them towards the dishwasher. My phone vibrates like crazy in my shorts pocket. I stack the plates in a rush then check my phone. Not Kat. Instead, twelve missed calls from my manager Tom. I immediately dial back. “Hello, what's up?”
“Who's that girl? What are you up to?”
A sense of dread fills me, my face drops, and I look at my family. “What girl? Where?”
“Check the news. Instagram. Whatever. It's everywhere.”
I cover the speaker. “Daryl, can you please look and see if there's anything about me now on Social?”
Daryl and John take out their phones and begin scouring. It takes them five seconds and they both show their phones to me wordlessly.
Kat and I in all our glory this evening, kissing right outside the gate. Quite artistic really. Strange angle though. Who could have taken this? It looks to have been taken from somewhere on the street.
I take a deep breath in and put the mobile back to my ear. “I suppose it's too late to try to kill this story.”
“Yep. I asked you 48 hours ago if there was someone. I had a feeling. I know you. Now the press has this they're going to be like bloodhounds. So tell me what I need to know, so that we can spin it.”
I sigh and leave the room so my family isn't exposed to my freak show of a life even more than they have to be.
“Her name is Katarina Featherstone. She lives in England now. We were childhood friends. I've had a crush on her since forever. The stars aligned and well…” I rub my hair. “Now we're together. Her family hates my guts. They have a flour mill business.”
“Oh, so like Romeo and Juliet but with baking.”
I slap my forehead. “Not you too.”
“Anyway, either you have paparazzi there outside your house following you, or you have a friend who leaked the photo.”
Both options are unpalatable.
When I don’t say anything else, Tom sighs. “Ok, I'll just put out that you want privacy to spend the holidays with your loved ones and that's it. And good luck with Katarina.”
“Kat,” I say automatically.
“Kat, even better.”
The call cuts off, and I stare at the dark screen. Like a chess table, the pieces are set out before me. I need to make the next move. What I do know is that I’m feeling glad the pic was leaked. The whole world knows about us, and it gives me a primitive kind of pleasure.
Kat
My parents have been sullen all evening. I want to write to Will but I don't know what. I guess we're not seeing each other tonight. I take a shower and prepare to call my aunt Gem in England. It should be early morning in the UK.
I lay on my bed and I pick up my phone and it's inundated with notifications, calls and messages from various acquaintances and friends.
The first one from my Auckland friend Liv: “Check insta. Xo you sly fox”
A sinking feeling builds in the pit of my stomach.
Two thousand friend requests in the past hour on my private Instagram account. I check the tagged images. Yep, there it is. Someone took a photo of Will and I kissing earlier outside the lodge. I scroll through the comments and they're all outraged. I’m too young, too old, too badly dressed, too dressed, too sexy, not sexy enough. Will is an international treasure, prime “real estate” and I’m the “silly blonde”. I roll my eyes. What happened to female solidarity?
I massage my temples. I feel a pounding headache coming on. So this is what dating Will is like.
I cut through the nausea and video call Auntie Gem who picks up straight away. She looks older. Dare I say frailer?
I put on a cheery face. “How's my favourite aunt doing?”
“I've called you and left you tons of messages, Kat. Why have you been ignoring me?”
I sigh. She caught me there. “I've been very busy, auntie. Plus the time zone difference. I'm sure you've been busy with the pre-Christmas rush as well.”
She makes a non-committal noise. “When are you coming back, Kat? I need you here.”
I sigh and decide to tell the truth. “Well, auntie, don't know how to tell you this but my mum and dad really want me to stay here and help out with the flour mill. You know what dad is like.” I start twirling with my hair.
“And what do you want?”
I bite my lip and stay silent.
“And what about that boy with the red curly hair? He's a race car driver or something glamorous.” She harrumphs.
Oh oh. Things are even worse than I thought if even auntie who doesn't give a fig about Social Media has heard about me and Will.
I clear my throat. “We were childhood friends. He's visiting family, and…” My voice trails.
“You can't be serious, Kat. I bet he's got models on speed-dial. He's going to go back to his yachts, fast cars and luxury, and discard you like a used chewing gum wrapper.”
“That's what dad said as well,” I whisper.
“Quite rarely does that man talk sense but this time I agree with him.” Auntie Gem never forgave my dad for taking her little sister away to the other side of the world - New Zealand.
“Anyway, take care and Merry Christmas, sweetheart. The sooner you can come back, the better. The shop needs you. I need you.”
My aunt's plea makes my chest twinge. I'm getting pulled in so many different directions.
“Merry Christmas, auntie. Take care!”
The voice call disconnects, and I check my phone. A brief text from Will.
Will: I'm sorry.
Kat: It's ok
It's totally not ok. Are there people outside my house? Are they stationed outside the lodge? Are they following us around? Or was it just someone opportunistic? Who would do such a thing? It’s a small town.
Will: Are you ok? What about your folks?
Kat: I'm ok. A bit miffed. Even my aunt in England asked me about it. Anyway. My parents are still grumpy. I'll do my best to turn them around. Maybe after Christmas I can help them out at the flour mill
Will: …
He's been typing a long time. Those three dots are mesmerising. Is he really writing or writing and deleting? The message finally comes through:
Will: Okay. We’ll see what happens. Nighty night.
All that time writing and he just sends a few words?
Kat: Nighty night.
Will: I miss you. When can I see you again?
Kat: I'll try for Christmas day. Have something to give you.
I add a tongue out emoji for good measure. The leather bracelet is done and neatly wrapped, waiting for its owner.
Will: Christmas day it is.
I put the phone down and sigh. It’s Will and I against the world.