Jack sat on a barstool in the Fisherman’s Arms with a ploughman’s and a pint of Starboard, one of the local ales from Goddards brewery. He was still fizzing from his encounter with the enigmatic Siobhán, and he needed the extra alcohol to steady his nerves. It had been thirty years since he’d felt such an attraction to a woman and whether he’d feel the same thing when he saw her again, he couldn’t be sure, but he felt confident that when the time came, another dose of Dr Goddard’s finest would help him cope.
He chided himself for being so feeble and pathetic and at the same time, for feeling guilty. None of it was justified but he struggled to suppress the irrational thoughts rattling around his head. Get a grip Jack! You’re on your own; so is she. Two single grown-ups meeting for dinner. A social engagement at a restaurant in full public view. Eat, drink and chat and then on Friday, you return home to Milton Aston. What’s your problem? He wondered what Charlie would make of it. She’d be horrified, emotional and contemptuous. That’s the problem! And as if his daughter had a wiretap on his thought processes, his phone rang, jarring him back to reality. He glanced at the screen and shook his head in disbelief.
“Hello sweetheart!”
“Daddy! We bought a house!” He hadn’t seen her or spoken to her for a week, so he’d been spared the daily wind-up, but he wouldn’t have her any other way and he missed her greatly.
“Yes, I’m fine darling. Having a wonderful time. Wish you were here.” He knew sarcasm would go straight over her head. Charlie was the epitome of self-obsession. Everything she did in her life she did at a hundred miles an hour and was focused exclusively on her own existence. Only in those rare moments when she was bored did she have time to express an interest in anyone else and in respect of her father, only when she needed something, which was pretty much all the time.
“I’m so excited!”
“When you say, ‘bought a house’, what exactly do you mean?” He could imagine her expression; feverish excitement turning to disdain and contempt at a father who couldn’t grasp the simplest of concepts.
“Me and Gavin. We bought a house! Well, we made an offer and it’s been accepted. Isn’t it great?”
“Fantastic darling. I look forward to seeing it when I get home.” The panic was over. Charlie had bamboozled Gavin into making an offer on a house they probably couldn’t afford, and the git had gone along with it just for some peace.
“It was on the market for six-fifty, but we offered them six -two-five and settled on six-forty. I can’t wait!”
“Whoa. I thought you set a limit of four-fifty?”
“That’s all changed now. We’re going to be much better off soon so now’s the time to max out or else we’ll just be moving again in a year.”
Jack sighed. He knew what was coming. They only had ten thousand in cash for a deposit, no equity in a house to sell and on their joint salaries of, as far as he was aware, about fifty thousand, there was no way they’d get a mortgage that big. Unless Gavin had somehow come into some cash, but if that were the case, the git would have squirrelled it away before his girlfriend started spending it.
Jack had a sense of foreboding. Charlie knew, and therefore Gavin the git also knew, that Jack could buy the house outright and he’d side-stepped previous conversations that looked like going in that direction. He would do anything for his daughter and had spoilt her rotten from the day she was born, but he was adamant. She needed to understand that money was the product of hard work and only hard work could deliver the things she craved: house, car, holidays, clothes and children. He would not be bamboozled into handing over huge sums of money just to keep her happy. In the long-term it would be the ruin of them both. She’d read his mind.
“And before you say anything, no, we don’t need you to chip in. We’ve got it covered.” He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but he was suspicious. “But there is one thing you can do for us.”
“Yes?” he said guardedly, there was always a sting.
“Well. Me and Gavin know we can afford it because I’m moving to a better paid job next month and Gavin’s not only due a bonus, he’s been told to expect promotion if he carries on the way he’s been going, so that’s not an issue.”
“Oh, that’s all right then. How is the second-hand office furniture business doing these days?” She ignored the sarcasm; she wouldn’t be put off her stride.
“But the thing is, the bank’s being an arse and they want to see it all in black and white and we can’t wait because we’ll lose the house and it’s just perfect and we won’t get another one...”
“So, you want a loan?”
“No!” The faux outrage was Charlie par excellence. “I told you. We want to do this ourselves otherwise it won’t be ours.” His daughter’s attitude was laudable, and he thought for a moment she might have learned something from him, but he wasn’t convinced.
“So?”
“So, the estate agent said if we got someone to guarantee the mortgage it’ll sail through the bank, so we checked and they said yes!”
“Did they indeed?”
“Well, they actually said maybe, depending on who it is.”
“And who might that be?” He decided he may as well have some sport before he succumbed to the inevitable.
“Aw Daddy. Come on. It’s just a signature on a bit of paper, that’s all. It’ll never be needed. It’s just a formality.” Jack imagined the ‘formality’ would end up with him paying for the house without having his name on the deeds. He may as well buy the blasted thing outright for all the good it would do. He had no qualms about investing in real estate, it was a good long-term bet, but he had grave misgivings about the circumstances of this one. He’d be locked in for as long as Charlie remained with Gavin and Gavin’s name would be on the title. He sighed. He knew where this was going but he didn’t want to fight with her over the phone. They’d have an opportunity to discuss it in more detail before any papers were signed.
“Give your estate agent my contact details and I’ll sort it out.”
“I already have. I knew you’d say yes. You’ll get an email from Clive with all the details and one from the guy at the bank.”
“Who’s your solicitor?”
“Clive recommended one. Forgotten the name.”
“No. I want Henry to do it.”
“Okay. Whatever.” Jack shook his head in dismay. Charlie was in full flight and not interested in the legal considerations. “Thanks Daddy, you won’t regret it. Must dash. Talk soon. Love you!” The phone went dead, and Jack returned his attention to his pint. He was regretting it already.
He only wanted the best for her, and she knew that, they just had different ideas about how to go about it. Charlie had many of her mother’s characteristics; vivacious, gregarious, voluble but argumentative with unpredictable mood swings, especially when she didn’t get her own way. She got all those from Natalie and he wondered which of his own he’d passed on, then had to accept probably none, because he’d never been there.
Whatever Charlie was, she was a product of them both and however much he might like to start over again and try harder next time, it wasn’t an option. He didn’t like her boyfriend but she was twenty-four and a grown-up so she could make her own decisions as well as her own mistakes. Whatever happened, he’d be there to pick up the pieces. He’d much rather she and Gavin stayed renting until the git had the decency to pop the question, but it was possible that may never happen. He took some comfort from that and hoped she might do better. But whatever the prospects for their relationship, Henry would make sure Jack had a second charge on the house should the worst happen.
He looked at his watch. Two-thirty. He’d go back to the cottage and crash out for a while and prepare mentally for his evening assignation. It’s not an assignation Jack! Just dinner. He was already nervous and afraid; afraid she wouldn’t show up and nervous she would, and he suddenly realised he didn’t have a phone number in case something went wrong.