‘Can I come to see you, dad?’ she asked. ‘I think I’m the only one in the whole university who doesn’t have weekend plans.’
He’d said yes, of course, despite wondering if Brianna might be better staying on campus and sweating it out. That’s one clear indication of Heather’s influence on him. He’s becoming soft in his parenting. Have other things changed? Heather always seems keen enough to see him and, when they do meet up, their time together is electric. But he’s never addressed Lorraine’s calls. Might his inability to explain them have driven a wedge between them? And did she pick up on his jealousy about Gerry? He’d tried to cover it up when they last spoke, but it was as though all the warning signs were screaming at him from the distance. He knows Heather doesn’t fancy Gerry; but something feels compromised, nonetheless. He’d probably be a better overall match for her: common interests, living in the same place, and he’s got no baggage other than loving Heather from the margins for the past twenty years.
Scott’s no fool. He knows that jealousy implies attachment, and it is this – attachment – which he must avoid at all costs.
To hell with it all. If she wants him, she can call. He texts Brianna with details about where to meet later, switches his phone off, turns it screen down and returns to his quotation.
***
Brianna falls into his arms in a flurry of blond curls and a blast of Valentino perfume. He feels her rib cage shudder as they hug.
‘It’s all gone to shit, dad,’ she says.
It’s unusual for Brianna to ask him for relationship advice and although he relishes the closeness this implies, he feels completely out of his depth. Here’s where she needs a mother, or an aunt, or a female stand-in at the very least, because this feels like the kind of knotty relationship problem only another woman can help Brianna navigate. But with Heather playing it cool (and how appropriate would it be for her to advise when her own daughter’s at the heart of the problem?) and her aunt in Stratford, he’s the best that Brianna's got. He knows he needs to be careful not to overly dramatize the situation. For all their sakes. Teenage girls fall in and out of love for a pastime, and friendships wax and wane.
‘Give it time. She’s your closest friend. I’m sure she’ll calm things down once she’s got over this initial flurry with Todd,’ he’d advised previously.
But now, several weeks on, he’s beginning to think that Brianna’s been played. Loving – even a friend – can lead to devastation when the relationship peters out and falters.
He takes her to a local coffee shop and buys her a ridiculous pumpkin spiced something-or-other topped with mountains of whipped cream, a sickly-sweet toffee syrup and - to top it all - nuts. It’s like diabetes in a cup. But he knows now (thanks Heather!) not to comment.
Brianna scoops up the nutty white and brown topping with a wooden spoon. She gets a dollop of cream on the end of her nose which makes him think of when she was nine years old and he, Brianna and Lucy were at a winter market and eating sugar encrusted warm cinnamon doughnuts. Is Lucy looking down on them right now, willing him to get this right?
He takes a mouthful of peppermint tea (another of Heather’s influences) and winces as the super-heated liquid scalds the back of his throat.
‘So, dad,’ Brianna says sitting forward in her bucket chair and tapping his knee. ‘Tell me what to do.’
Scott’s job is all about mathematical process, advice and risk, but sadly the same parameters cannot be applied to relationships. Here, the rules are much more spurious.
‘Well, love. I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, but there’s not much I can suggest other than what we said last week. Leave Georgia to it, focus on your friendship with Trey, and try to widen your social circle. If Georgia wants nothing to do with you, then so be it. I’m not sure there’s much else you can do. Georgia needs to make these decisions for herself. Your job, as her friend, is to be there when it all falls to pieces and then to talk to her about how she might do a better job in the future of maintaining your friendship whilst also being with a boy.’
Brianna’s lips turn inwards.
‘I guessed you’d say that.’
It’s a painful watch. Scott has brought his daughter up to be strong, resilient and independent, but despite his best efforts, it doesn’t seem to have protected her from getting hurt. Something, a sense of despondency and inadequacy, drives him to pull his phone from his pocket when Brianna heads for the loo. He knows she will take a while primping and preening at the mirrors and that he has sufficient time for a quick text. The conversation with Brianna, his invasive thoughts about Lucy,and Heather’s pulling back have all spurred him into action he has resisted for months. He finds his sister-in-law’s number and texts her.
"Be good to meet. Next weekend? Can you get yourself to London?"
A neutral place feels good if he is to have this out.
Lorraine replies with: "St Pancras Station, under the destination boards, 12:30pm on Saturday. Can’t wait."
He slips his phone into his pocket when he sees Brianna returning to their table.
They finish their drinks and he distracts Brianna with shopping in Glasgow’s city centre, followed by a visit to his flat, then a trip to the cinema. By the time she needs to leave, Brianna seems more centred, more at peace.
‘Thanks dad,’ she says when he drops her off at the train station for her return journey, ‘You’re the best.’
She doesn’t even addgiven the circumstances.
Chapter 27
HEATHER
‘Wouldyoujuststop?Give me a minute.’ Heather takes a deep breath, plants her wetsuited foot onto the Portobello harbour cobble stones and fights the rising tide of claustrophobia. Claire, meanwhile, pulls upwards on the zip at the back of her wetsuit, encasing her in the vice-like grip of an all-body girdle. ‘I can’t breathe,’ she gasps dramatically, putting her hands around her throat to emphasise her feeling of containment.
‘You’ll be fine once you’re in the water,’ Claire says. She glances down at the putty-coloured seawater filling the outdoor swimming pool and grimaces. ‘In fact, I think the tightness ofyour wet suit will be the last thing on your mind when you get in there. It looks bloody freezing.’
