Chapter Twenty-five
Sofia is happy for the help with dinner, at least, and babbles away to me as I help with the preparations. Meanwhile the letter burns a hole in my pocket and my head continues to throb with the ramifications. I feel like I belong here now, that I’ve found my place. And frankly, who would want to return to the shitshow that is my life back in Scotland right now? Furious mother. Check. Disgruntled, controlling ex-boyfriend who is incapable of understanding that I really do not want to see him again. Check. Lack of a job to pay the bills. Check. If I go home, I’ll need somewhere to live, and it certainly won’t be with Mum; she showed her true colours when she took Aidan’s side when we split. And it most definitely won’t be with Aidan. Becca would put me up for as long as I needed, but that’s not the point. Plus, she’ll be hurt I didn’t mention I’d applied.
I close my eyes momentarily. What a mess. I almost wish I hadn’t received the letter, that I hadn’t got in. That would be one less decision to make. But I can’t un-know what I know now. The question is, what to do about it? Am I on a different planet, living a pipe dream, thinking I can have a long-term-ish future out here in Costa Rica? But then, aren’t you meant to make all your crazy mistakes in your twenties and thirties? Aren’t you meant to take risks? I’d like to see where Dexter and I could go, especially after the hassle we went through to get to this stage, but am I really going to give up the possibility to go to vet school? Glasgow uni? The thought makes goose bumps come up on my arms.
‘Kat. Kat! Kat!’ Sofia says finally.
I glance up, startled. ‘Sorry, I was miles away.’
‘Clearly.’ Sofia smiles. ‘Can you dish this up whilst I take the rest out of the oven?’
‘Sure.’ I grab a dishtowel to protect my hands and take the casserole dish Sofia passes me, then I plate up as the hungry hordes descend. Seriously, they’re like locusts swarming, or starving hounds at the first whiff of food.
Mariangeles and Luciana are talking animatedly and Roisin stands beside Alejandro as Victor gesticulates with his hands, telling them about some new club opening in town.
When she arrives Federica claps her hands. ‘Ay! My favourite.’
I laugh. ‘Everything Sofia makes is your favourite.’
‘Well,’ she replies hotly, ‘it’s all good.’ She’s speaking in English. Since we’ve started practising, it has definitely improved and we’re both really enjoying the extra time together, I think.
‘I won’t argue with you there.’ When I’ve finished serving her, she nudges Mariangeles. ‘Hey, you lot, hurry up. Let’s eat.’
Mariangeles shoots her a look that could fell a dragon. Fortunately, this is all part of their double act and terribly endearing, and it makes me smile, but I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of her looks, or in her bad books generally. She’d make a formidable adversary. Far better to have her as a friend, a loyal, fierce one– whom I’ve become very fond of.
Once again my thoughts return to the letter of offer in my pocket. I know I don’t need to decide right now, but somehow having no one I can talk to about it is making it far more difficult to deal with. Should I just call Becca, endure her tongue-lashing for keeping it from her for so long and then ask her advice? Or should I puzzle it out on my own a little longer?
Gah! This is driving me nuts. It’s even putting me off my meal, and that’s saying something.
I smell him before I see him, or rather I smell the cinnamon notes of his aftershave and the hint of fresh sweat as he leans down to kiss my cheek. Dexter. Yeah, like that really helped simplify this situation. Let’s throw the hot guy I’ve fallen for into the mix so I can make a totally rational decision.
‘The baby’s settling in fine,’ he says.
I nod, but his eyes cloud with confusion at my lack of enthusiasm. I’m usually much more upbeat at such news.
‘You feeling OK?’ he asks. ‘You look a bit out of sorts.’
He has no idea.
‘I’m a little tired,’ I lie.
He notices my three-quarters full plate and frowns. ‘You’re not eating? You really aren’t OK, are you? What’s up?’
I shake my head. ‘Seriously, I just need an early night.’
His eyebrows shoot up at that and I suppress a smile. I guess an early night didn’t figure in his plans for our evening. He probably had much more adventurous plans for us. Plans I’ve now scuppered. But I don’t think I can act normally around him until I process the contents of the letter, and I need time for that. And a chat with Becca. Oh well, at least I’ve decided something.
I scrape back my chair. ‘I’ll see you later,’ I say to the girls.
Mariangeles and Federica, who were deep in conversation, as usual, glance up, mystified expressions on their faces. ‘Where are you off to?’
I stifle a yawn. ‘Bed. I’m shattered.’
Mariangeles’ head moves back on her shoulders as if she has been shot. ‘Bed? At this time? Are you ill?’
Oh God, this is going to get old really fast.
Fortunately, Dexter intervenes. ‘She’s tired. Why don’t we let her get some rest and we can grill her later?’
Mariangeles casts me a final appraising look and reluctantly agrees, but a hint of suspicion flashed in her eyes as if she knows something is up. There’s not much gets past her.
I mouth a ‘thank you’ to Dexter, then pootle off back to my room.
Once I’m safely inside, and confident in the knowledge they’re all having dinner, so I’m definitely alone, I call Becca.
After six rings, she answers. ‘It’s about time, too. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.’
Becca’s tone is joking, but a stab of guilt slices through me. I haven’t been as communicative as I usually am. She’s my best friend, and we tell each other everything, but somehow life has been very busy here, although I know that’s no excuse. Plus, I’ve had a lot to think about, and that doesn’t seem as if it will abate anytime soon.
‘Sorry, Becca. Things have been a bit full-on. How are you?’
‘Getting my cast off shortly.’
‘Oh, that’s fantastic. You must be so relieved.’
‘You can say that again. I don’t know how many knitting needles I’ve bent trying to scratch my leg.’
I chuckle. ‘So have you taken up knitting too during your enforced confinement?’
‘Steady on. I’m twenty-nine, not eighty-nine.’
‘It’s having a resurgence among young people, didn’t you know? You could be part of a growing trend.’
‘I’m happy as I am, thanks,’ she mutters.
I try not to laugh. The thought of Becca knitting has me in stitches– pun intended, but I couldn’t resist. It feels good to talk to her, and I needed to chat about something trivial and banal, both to lighten the mood and to pave the way for the much more serious discussion I need to have with her. Plus, I’m not certain how much of a backlash there will be from her at me keeping my university application secret. But since Becca is as forthright as they come, she’ll tell me how it is, whether it’s what I want to hear or not.
We hit a pause, and deciding this is the moment to come out with my news, I jump right in.
‘Becca, I have something to tell you.’
‘Oh my God, you’re not pregnant, are you?’
‘No! Why would I be pregnant?’
‘Well, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, Kat, but when a man and a woman…’
‘Oh, Becca, I do love you, but shut up!’
‘You always spoil all my fun,’ she murmurs.
‘Not true. Right, listen up.’ Once I have her attention, I blurt it out. ‘I applied for a place at Glasgow uni vet school and I’ve just received a letter advising me I got in.’
‘Vet school? Glasgow uni?’ Becca scrunches up her eyebrows as the cogs in her brain whirr and try to compute what I’m telling her.
‘Yeah. I kinda have a confession to make.’ When she doesn’t say anything, I continue. ‘I did an access course over the past two years, in the evenings, and because I passed that, I got a place at uni.’
‘How on earth did you study for two years without me knowing?’ Becca’s incredulous expression is priceless and I wish I could snap a photo of her.
I hesitate then admit, ‘I think I may have told you I was working an extra shift. Sorry.’
She shakes her head. ‘I can’t believe you’d keep something so huge from me.’
‘I said I’m sorry. Look, I really am, but I didn’t want anyone to know.’
‘When did you apply to uni?’ she asks finally.
I mentally calculate how long it has been. ‘Six months ago.’
‘Six months ago? Why didn’t you tell me?’ Indignation punctuates her every word.
I sigh. ‘Because I didn’t want to feel under any pressure. I didn’t really expect to get in, and thought if I got in, it would be a bonus. But to my mind, if I kept it to myself and got a rejection, then it wouldn’t be as bad since only I knew about it.’
Becca mulls this over for a second. ‘No, I’m not buying it. You should still have told me. We tell each other everything.’
I let out a long breath. ‘I know, and I’m sorry. But can we put that to one side for now, whilst we unpack the predicament I’m now in?’
Becca gives me a long look that says she isn’t done with me yet, then nods. ‘Go ahead.’
‘Becca, I’ve dreamed of going to vet school since I was a little girl. When I didn’t get the grades, I was devastated, and then I ended up stuck in the job at Peterson’s, a job I wasn’t particularly enamoured of, and felt trapped.’
Becca continues to stare at me. ‘OK.’
When she doesn’t say anything else, I continue. ‘And then I came here, on holiday, and life sped up several notches, going from zero to a hundred and sixty in only a few days. I love it here. The sloths. The people. Dexter.’
‘Right…’ Becca says carefully.
‘And now I’ve been accepted to do the course that I’ve always wanted, which will allow me to have the career I’ve always wanted. You know how much I want to be a vet. I just thought it was beyond my reach.’
‘Hmm,’ Becca says noncommittally. Eventually, she continues, ‘I’m guessing Dexter doesn’t know you applied to vet school either.’
I shake my head. ‘You’re the first person I’ve told.’ I pause. ‘Becca, I don’t know what to do.’
Becca thinks for a moment, pulling her bottom lip between her thumb and index finger as she tends to do when she’s deep in thought. ‘Kat, I’m sorry. I can’t make this decision for you, but what I can tell you is, you’d better tell Dexter, and soon.’