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“And you don’t want to?” I ask carefully. I actually can believe Charles Carter would have been delighted by Violet’s little announcement last night. He was always in favor of Jett and Violet getting back together; saw them as some kind of Hollywood power couple that the fans wouldn’t be able to get enough of.
As if Jett’s ever cared about that.
“No, Lexie,” says Jett softly, looking up. “No, I don’t want to marry Violet.”
I wait for him to go on, but he just takes another sip of wine. All of a sudden, there doesn’t seem to be enough air in the room. I feel like he wants to say something else, but before I can figure out how to ask him what it is, he’s pushing the brown envelope across the table towards me and preparing to stand up.
“So,” he says. “Are you ready to do this? Want to find out who your pop is?”
Nineteen
Itake the envelope and open it reluctantly, as if the contents might jump out and bite me.
Inside there’s a long plastic tube with a lid, and a swab, a bit like a Covid test.
It’s not exactly how I was planning to spend my evening.
“Problem?” asks Jett. He’s standing up now, leaning back against the kitchen worktop with his arms folded over his chest.
“Other than the fact that I don’t really want to stick this inside my cheek with you watching me, no,” I tell him, blatantly lying.
“Lexie, I just saw you with a freaky mask on your face and a … what was that robe thing you were wearing, by the way? A tiger?”
“Pikachu,” I reply, blushing. “Mum got it for me, okay? Look, I’m short; she shops in the kids’ section sometimes.”
Jett chuckles.
“Okay, so you were dressed like Hannibal Lecter’s fluffy lovechild,” he says. “And I coped just fine with that, so I think I can handle whatever it is that’s eating you about doing this test.”
I look up at him, fiddling with the swab.
“It’s just… I don’t want to have to go fishing,” I burst out in a rush. “Or play darts. Or… or do whatever it is that fathers and daughters are supposed to do. I wouldn’t know, obviously, because I’ve never actuallyhada dad before, and now that I possiblydohave one, I’m… I’m really scared, Jett. I’m terrified, actually.”
Jett nods seriously, as if all of this makes complete sense.
“Dad tried to get me to go fishing with him,” he tells me. “He wanted to do it while we’re here, actually. Says we’re in Scotland, so we need to fish, and play golf, and all that other stuff.”
“Golf?” I repeat, horrified. “Ireallydon’t want to play golf. Imagine me in those trousers!”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Jett looks at me from under his lashes. “I think if anyone could pull that look off, it would be Lexie Steele.”
I blush again.
“Are you going to do it?” I ask. “The golf? Or the fishing?”
He shrugs.
“Probably,” he says. “It’s not really my thing, but if it makes the old man happy, why not? I told him I’d play a round of golf with him if he comes to the Gloamin’ with me, so we’re square.”
“The Gloamin’?” I ask, mystified. “Is that the new restaurant on the Isle of Skye everyone’s talking about?”
“No, TheGloamin’,” says Jett earnestly. You know, like in the song?‘Roamin’ in the Gloamin’? You must have heard it? It’s this old Scottish song, and… What? What did I say?”
He looks at me, confused, but I’m shaking so hard with suppressed laughter that it takes me a few seconds to answer him.
“Oh my God, Jett,” I say, amused. “You know ‘the gloamin’s’ not aplace, right? It’s a … well, atime, I guess. Like twilight. You know, when the light’s all soft and kind of golden?That’sthe ‘gloamin’”.
“Seriously?” He looks momentarily horrified, then starts to smile. “Shiiit,” he says, chuckling. “I’ve been going round telling everyone I couldn’t wait to go to the ‘Gloamin’. I thought it was like a mountain or something. No wonder they keep looking at me funny.”
