Chapter Eighteen
The flat was quiet when Erin got home. Susan had insisted on buying them dinner on the way back.
She said it was a thank you for accompanying her on the course and refused any financial contribution from Erin.
Despite her insistence, and the truth that she could probably afford the bill far more easily than Erin could, Erin still felt like she’d taken advantage.
Next time Susan ate at the café, it would be on the house.
Jack was sitting on the sofa, staring at a laptop screen, when she walked in. ‘Hiya,’ she said.
‘All right?’ He didn’t look up, which was odd.
‘Don’t let Susan get the bill next time she eats at the café, okay?’ She removed her jacket and laid it over the sofa arm. ‘She paid for me to go on this perfume-making course today and then insisted on buying dinner as well. I owe her big time.’
‘Hm?’ He was still staring at the screen, eyes narrowed.
‘And when a giraffe walked in and offered us a ride on its back, I said why not? Susan wasn’t keen, though. She wanted a go on the elephant.’ She stopped talking and waited for Jack’s nose to crinkle in incomprehension. Nothing. ‘Jack, are you listening to a word I’m saying?’
He glanced up, but his eyes remained serious.
‘Sorry. I was reading through this.’ He turned the laptop towards her, and she saw the title on the Word document: Save The Bookmark.
Her list of doom. Nausea swilled in her stomach when she remembered Jack messaging earlier in the day to ask if he could borrow her laptop.
His was playing up after an update was installed.
She hadn’t given it a second thought. Now she could see she should have.
‘Oh,’ she said. Why hadn’t she hidden that document under some random file name, like Mum’s favourite porn? Jack would have left it well alone then. At least, she hoped he would.
‘So, The Bookmark’s in financial trouble?’
She opened her mouth to deny it, but the title was pretty explicit and her list of advertising plans and cost cutting exercises were there in black and white. ‘The building’s been sold to a new company and the lease is ending soon. The rent’s going up by eight grand a quarter.’
He moved the mouse to point at the last thing on the list. He read it out, ‘Try to negotiate the rent increase down.’ He gazed up at her. ‘The new owners are increasing the rent by thirty-two thousand pounds a year? Is that even legal?’
She shrugged, defeated. Any remaining energy she had seeped out through her feet into the floorboards.
She was so very, very tired of thinking about it all the time, and even though he hadn’t got a job to fall back on, she couldn’t hide it from Jack any longer.
‘I don’t know. They sent a load of examples of comparable properties and what they pay in rent, and it looks like we had a very good deal before.
I knew it was cheap for the area, but never questioned it because I thought we had a good understanding.
I never bothered them with maintenance or anything, and kept it in good condition, and I was never late with the rent.
I suppose I thought we’d keep ticking along like that until I retired, or sold the business, if anyone was daft enough to take it on.
To be honest, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.
’ She attempted a smile. ‘You know me, not a fan of looking forwards.’
He didn’t smile back, so she carried on, ‘It looks like it’s the end of the road for The Bookmark.
’ Her voice cracked and before she could stop them, tears tumbled from her eyes.
She put her hand to her mouth, appalled at herself for breaking down in front of Jack.
He was her child. She was supposed to shield him from worry, not add to it, but saying it out loud to another person made it all agonisingly real.
He dropped the laptop on the cushion, jumped up, and wrapped his arms around her.
She hated herself for sobbing into his bony shoulder but once the tears had started she couldn’t stop them.
She was weak and pathetic. Who behaved like this with their child?
She’d always seen her parents as strong and capable people.
Even when her mother was sick at the end of her life, her vibrant personality didn’t diminish. She never crumbled like Erin was now.
‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ said Jack.
‘You’ve got enough on your plate looking for a graduate job.’
‘Oh, Mum. It’s okay,’ he said. ‘We’ll sort it out.’
She lifted her head, summoning her last vestige of strength.
‘I honestly don’t think it’s something that can be sorted out, and anyway, this isn’t your problem to solve, it’s mine.
’ She extricated herself from him, took a tissue from the box on the table and wiped her face with hard strokes in an attempt to feel something other than the surge of fresh tears climbing up her throat.
‘You concentrate on getting a job you’ll enjoy, and I’ll work out what to do about The Bookmark. ’
He scratched his cheek and pulled his lips tight. ‘You can’t afford to employ me, can you?’
She viewed the soggy tissue in her hands. ‘I, erm …’
‘I’ll look for bar work tomorrow,’ he said. ‘There’s no point giving me a salary when you don’t have to. I’m sorry I asked now. I thought you’d enjoy having a bit more time off. I had no idea I was putting you under more pressure.’
Now he was beating himself up over something that was entirely her fault.
Her lovely, lovely boy. ‘You have nothing to be sorry for. I wanted you there. It’s a family business.
It’s your grandma’s legacy.’ The image of her mother’s face when Erin told her she wanted to run the café came back to her.
She’d looked so proud of her, and now she was letting her whole family down.
‘Sit down,’ said Jack, his voice firm. Erin sat, feeling like a child about to get a ticking off from an exasperated parent. ‘You keep talking about this legacy thing.’
‘It’s important,’ said Erin, dabbing at a teardrop sliding down the side of her nose.
‘Mum worked so hard to build the place up, and I feel like she’s still there, in a way.
She started the wall of books, and she was the one who encouraged people to borrow and swap them.
It’s her record player in the corner, her LPs in the cupboard underneath.
’ More sobs gathered as she remembered Mary closing her eyes and listening to the first few notes of one of her favourites.
She clenched her jaw to stop the strangled sounds escaping.
‘If you kept it going, would you want me to take the café over?’
That seemed like a strange question. She frowned. ‘What do you mean?’ They’d talked about this. It wasn’t what either of them wanted for him.
‘If it was still running and anything happened to you, would you want me to take over The Bookmark?’
She tried, but couldn’t picture him in the café as an older man. He was a creative at heart. He wouldn’t be fulfilled by a career in hospitality. She blew her nose. ‘There won’t be anything to take over, anyway.’
‘That’s not the point,’ said Jack. ‘If nothing else was at play, would you want me to take over the family business?’ There was an urgency in his question.
‘Only if you wanted to.’
‘Exactly,’ Jack said, with a sweep of his hand. ‘You want me to do what’s right for me.’
‘Of course I do. I’m your mum. I want you to be happy.’
‘That’s exactly my point. Grandma would only want you to do what was right for you.’
Erin knew that was true, but he was missing one crucial fact. ‘Carrying on her legacy does make me happy,’ she said. It did, at least, before all this rent rise business. But there was more to a legacy than profit. She sniffed. ‘I feel close to her in that room.’
Jack shifted the laptop and sat next to her, putting an arm around her shoulder. ‘I get it. I do too. But the grim fact is, legacy or not, if it’s not working, something has to change.’