Chapter Twenty-Six
I knew Merlin was going to ask about that, but it wasn’t good, and I’m feeling a little raw from the whole ordeal. “I did go to see them, and it went as well as I expected.” The whole encounter is fresh on my mind, and every time I think of it, I get angry all over again.
Maybe telling Merlin exactly what happened will be cathartic.
I take a deep breath. Here goes.
As soon as I press the doorbell and the chime rings out behind the closed door, I regret it and want to turn away, get back into my car, and drive straight back to Devon and Merlin.
But I don’t. Instead, I rock back on my heels.
Footsteps approach, heavy ones, so it must be my dad coming to answer the bell.
The door opens, and we stare at each other.
I recover first. “Hi, Dad. How are you?” I push my hands deep into my jeans pocket so he can’t see them shaking with how nervous I am.
“Trent. Where’ve you been all summer long? Your mother has been going frantic with worry. What have you been doing? This is not acceptable behaviour, son.”
“Can I come in? Or are we going to do this where all the neighbours can witness?”
He opens the door wider but still looks up and down the road to see if we’re being watched. I step past him as my mum’s voice comes from the kitchen. “Who’s at the door?”
She walks out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a tea towel, but stops as she sees me. “Trent, why aren’t you at work?”
I shake my head. “Seriously, is that all you’ve got to say to me? Not even a hello.”
“Don’t talk to your mother like that,” my dad grumbles. “You’ve had her worrying herself to death.”
“God, nothing changes, does it?” I turn back to the front door. “I wanted to tell you what I’ve been doing and what my plans for the future are. But you’re not interested in anything I’ve got to say.”
“Maybe if you’d answered my calls, I wouldn’t have to ask any questions,” she snips. “So, what have you been doing that’s stopped you from working? You’ll never get head of department this way.”
“Can we sit down?” Am I ever going to get past the hallway?
I don’t miss the look between my parents as they decide if I’m worthy enough to be allowed in the living room. “Fine.” I follow my mum into the pristine room.
“Where’ve you been?” Mum asks when we’re sitting down. She smooths out her cotton skirt and folds her hands in her lap.
“I’ve been in Devon. I went to see Merrick and Willow. She’s a beautiful little girl and so smart and funny. You’re missing out by not knowing her.”
Her lips tighten to the thinnest lines. “No, we’re not. She’s nothing to us. I told you I’m waiting for you to find the right girl and give us grandchildren.”
“I have met someone. And I’m sure kids are in the future, not yet, though.
We’re still getting to know each other.” It’s cruel to let them think that someone is a woman, but I don’t care.
“I’m staying down there. I’ve left the school, and I’m drawing again.
I’m even having an art exhibition in November.
It’s a fresh new start for me. I’m happy. Happier than I’ve been in years.”
Silence fills the room, and more speechless conversations pass through my parents’ eyes and expressions. “So, tell me about your girlfriend. What’s her name? Where does she work?”
“He’s wonderful. His name is Merlin, and he’s a gardener.
He’s building his own nursery just on the outskirts of the town.
His house is being put together today. I should be there, but I thought the sooner I saw you and told you what’s going on in my life, the better. Would you like to see a photograph?”
“Is this a joke?” Dad stands up, his hands on his hips. “I told you not to come back until you’ve come to your senses. It seems that you’ve gone completely off the rails. Have you lost your mind?”
“You do this just to hurt me, don’t you?” Mum looks like she should be clutching her pearls.
I stand up too. Today is obviously going to be the last time I’ll be here. They will never change, and because of that, they’re going to miss out on so much. But it’s their choice. I pull an invitation to my opening night from my pocket and leave it on the coffee table. “It’s your loss.”
I walk out of the room and the house without another word.
Was I really expecting much more, even the slightest bit of regret from them?
Any way to build the bridge between us again and get a family back?
No, it was all a pointless waste of time.
I want to be home, back with Merlin and my friends, but the estate agent is coming tomorrow.
Hopefully, he’s going to give me a decent selling price, and I can be on my way by midday.
“So that’s what happened,” I finish the story. “As soon as the house is sorted tomorrow, I’ll be on my way home. Honestly, Merlin, I wish I’d never come back. I’ve missed your special day, and that’s selfish of me. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry they haven’t changed, Trent. And yeah, I wish you’d been here, but I’m just glad that you’re coming back. That you’ve decided to stay here.”
We talk for another five minutes, but I can hear how tired he is. We say goodbye, and I settle into my bed. It’s so weird being back in London; the noises are so different. Gone is the wind and scent of a wild sea, replaced by car horns and sirens. How did I ever think I was happy here?
A firm knock on the door signals the arrival of the estate agent. I straighten the cushions on the sofa one more time. The morning has been hectic, with dusting everywhere, washing floors that weren’t dirty—but I did it anyway—cleaning the bathroom, and vacuuming every room.
I show the estate agent around. He takes measurements and records his description of the rooms, then gives me an estimation of the value, which is higher than I expected.
I’m making a decent profit, but it’s not a seller’s market, so I could be in for a wait for it to sell.
If it had been a project house, it would sell more quickly, but everything has been updated and modernised.
“I’m not in too much of a hurry, and I’m not going to let it go for less than it’s worth,” I say.
“That’s probably best. It will sell. I just need to get the right person through the door. I’ll be in touch, Trent.” We shake hands, and he leaves.
There’s not much else for me to do but check that everything is turned off. I pick up the cases of clothes and some of the possessions I want to bring with me: books, paints, and canvases. I had those shut away because I was never brave enough to start again.
With it all loaded in my car, I pull away from the kerb and, without looking back, drive away.
The route passes by the trendy high street full of coffee shops and bars, places I would meet Marc when he wanted to see me.
As much as I want to keep my eyes firmly on the road, the slow-moving traffic gives me plenty of time to search the tables set out in front of each establishment.
I didn’t really expect to see him, but there he is, lifting a glass, probably gin and tonic, to his lips.
Our eyes meet. Shock registers on his face.
As the cars before me move again, I flip my middle finger up at him.
A loud laugh breaks free as I take the next turn, away from Marc, away from London.
There’s only one place I want to be, and that’s with Merlin.