Chapter Eight
The next week was incredibly busy, either working with groups of models for magazines or with individuals at Daniel’s studio. Anna was completely in awe of some of the beautiful women she’d met, knowing that she could never look that good, even with loads of styling and make-up. Instead, she kept herself in the background, making sure she did as good a job for Daniel as she possibly could. He was a hard taskmaster and she was often the brunt of his terse commands, but she hoped in time, as she got better at her job, that he would soften towards her. Because she was learning so much working with him and was loving every minute of it.
‘You’re home late.’ Her father frowned at her as she arrived home on Wednesday evening. It was nearly seven o’clock and they’d been working on a difficult shoot. One of the models hadn’t turned up and another had been in a mood because she’d had an argument with her boyfriend. All the photos taken of her had turned out to be sulky rather than sultry and had had to be redone. Of course, that had meant Daniel had spent the whole day snapping at Anna, and the grumpier he’d become, the more nervous she’d felt, making mistakes that had worsened his mood. When they returned from the shoot, he’d insisted on them looking at what he had taken together, and he hadn’t been happy with the results. The last thing she needed now was a lecture by her father.
She had to admit the hours she worked for Daniel were rather erratic. What time they finished often depended on how well a shoot was going and how much editing the photographs needed. Daniel was certainly in demand, which often made for long days, something her family weren’t pleased about.
‘I should have a word with that boss of yours,’ her dad said. ‘He’s working you far too hard.’ It was a constant gripe of his when she wasn’t around to do what he felt was her role in their lives, a role that she was increasingly beginning to resent. When she wasn’t working she wanted to be out following her own photographic instincts, not looking after her dad and brothers.
‘It’s the nature of the job, Dad,’ she replied tiredly. ‘I’m learning so much and I’m finally doing a job I’m interested in.’
‘Yes, but we need you here. I never know what time you’ll be getting home these days.’
Finally, Anna had had enough. ‘What? Does it put you out because I don’t have tea on the table waiting for you when you get back from the pub?’ Both her father and Jack often went to the pub for a couple of pints after they finished work, and when they came home they were hungry for their tea. ‘It wouldn’t hurt you to get your own meal for a change.’
‘How can we when we don’t know what you’ve got planned?’
‘Well, from now on you can assume that I haven’t got anything planned and you can do your own.’
‘Don’t be like that, Anna — you know we rely on you.’
She relaxed slightly at his softer tone, but wasn’t fooled by it. This was the tactic he used when she snapped, to sweet-talk her round. But not this time.
‘Well, then, maybe we should sit down at the weekend and plan the meals together. And each night take it in turns to cook.’
‘What would we want to do that for?’ He sounded genuinely puzzled.
‘Because I’m sick of being the only one who does anything around the house, so maybe we should have a rota for the cleaning too.’
‘And when would we have time for that? You know how hard me and Jack work, often seven days a week. Why should we have to come home and start doing the housework?’
‘Don’t you think I work hard too?’ She was incensed by his words.
‘Taking pictures is hard work now, is it?’
‘What would you know, Dad? You’ve never taken any interest in my career.’ Suddenly the frustrations that had built up over the years came tumbling out, and, although she knew her words would hurt him, she couldn’t stop herself. ‘You know I wanted to go to art college, that I wanted to be creative. But I never got a chance, did I? And you don’t care about that because you think all I’m good enough for is to be a skivvy for you lot.’
She could see the way his jaw was clenched, tightened in anger, and as she ran out of words she realised she’d said more than she should have. She also saw that Jack and Harry had come into the room at the sound of an altercation. Harry looked stricken at her words — Jack just plain angry.
‘You didn’t get to go to college because you didn’t get the grades. That’s not my fault,’ Andrew replied.
‘No, and neither was it mine.’
‘So what are you saying, girl?’ His tone was low, as though he was fighting to keep control. ‘Are you blaming your mother for dying?’
His words knocked the stuffing out of her — she deflated like a balloon. Feeling tears prickle in her eyes, she blinked them back. She wouldn’t let him see her cry.
‘No, of course not,’ she whispered.
‘Because that’s what it sounds like to me.’
‘I didn’t mean it like that, Dad. Mum died thirteen years ago and we’ve all had to deal with that. What I meant was, Mum dying changed everything for me.’
He almost snarled. ‘And it didn’t for the rest of us?’
‘No, but now I’m finally doing something I’ve always wanted to do and I want to concentrate on it. All I’m asking for is a little bit of help in running the house.’
‘I’ll help, Anna, you know I will,’ Harry said. Anna looked on him fondly. She knew he felt guilty — he was being given a chance she’d never had, but she wanted him to make the most of that opportunity.
‘I think everyone should,’ she said, glaring at Jack.
‘You’ve changed since you got that job,’ Jack said. ‘Think you’re so high and mighty now you’re mixing with celebrities. Too good for us, are you?’
‘No, but I’m fed up of being your skivvy and I was fed up long before I got this job. What’s wrong with you all helping out around the house? Just because Mum did everything for you doesn’t mean I should have to. Cooking and cleaning aren’t just women’s work, you know. You’re such a chauvinist.’
‘Anna, that’s enough.’ Her dad took Jack’s side, as she’d known he would.
Jack laughed, completely unperturbed by her words. ‘Bet you’re doing the boss like you did in your last job. And look how well that ended.’
‘And that’s enough from you, Jack.’ Andrew finally rounded on his eldest son. ‘All this arguing is getting us nowhere. And I for one am hungry.’ He stared at Anna meaningfully. ‘So, what’s for tea?’
Anna stared at him dumbfounded. All she’d said hadn’t meant a thing. Nothing was ever going to change. He just didn’t care.
‘I don’t know. I’m sure you’ll find plenty in the freezer. I’ve lost my appetite.’
She barged past Jack and ran up the stairs to her bedroom. Only when she was safely inside, with the door firmly shut, did she allow the tears to spill over. And, when they did, they came in torrents, soaking the pillow that muffled her anguish.