A Brambleberry Manor Christmas - Rosie Green Page 0,21
fall-out with her boyfriend and she was crying and I couldn’t just leave her. But I’m coming home now.
I sink back against the pillows with a thankful sigh, my whole body drooping with relief. I suddenly realise I’m freezing. The heating must have clicked off a while ago. I snuggle down and switch off the light, and ten minutes later, I hear Tavie’s key in the door.
She pauses outside my door. ‘Night,’ she calls.
‘Goodnight, Tavie. Straight to bed, please,’ I say sternly. ‘We’ll talk about this in the morning.’ I’ll have to ground her for being late. Although the fact that she was helping a friend is a good thing. Tavie’s such a fiercely loyal soul. She always has been, ever since she was little. I can well believe she lost track of the time because she was wanting to be there for her friend. But I have to be firm with her, otherwise I’ll have no chance of keeping her safe.
I’ll chat to her in the morning about making sure to text me so I don’t have to worry about her when she’s out. (Not that we haven’t had that conversation a million times before.)
Once upon a time, when her dad was alive, he’d pick her up from a Saturday night sleep-over at Amy’s house and she’d always come straight in to see me, and we’d chat and laugh about what they’d been doing.
I wish she’d do that now…share her life, her funny little stories with me. But obviously that’s not going to happen. The gulf that’s opened up between us is so wide, it scares me.
I close my eyes. But she’s home now and she’s safe. That’s all that matters.
I can sleep…
CHAPTER SEVEN
Menu – Day 2
A Taste of Spain
Seafood soup
***
Slow-roasted Andalusian-style lamb and potatoes
***
Crema Catalana
Served with a rhubarb and ginger compote
***
Breakfast-time is an even more tense affair than usual.
Tavie is up before me. She’s in the shower for ages, then I hear the hairdryer start as she attempts to tame her wild red corkscrew curls. I like her hair best when she leaves it to dry naturally.
We collide in the kitchen, where she’s making a milkshake.
‘I can’t believe the snow, can you?’ I say lightly.
She glances out of the window. ‘It must have been coming down all night. It looks quite deep out there.’
‘I’m making toast. Would you like some?’ I offer, already braced for a cold negative.
‘No, thanks.’
She stirs her drink, throws the spoon in the sink and heads for the door.
‘Octavia, can you sit down for a minute, please?’
She turns, frowning. ‘Look, I’m sorry about last night. I had to help Allie. Like I said.’
‘Yes. I know. But imagine how I felt when it got past ten. I had no idea where you were. Anything could have happened to you.’
‘But it didn’t.’
‘No. But that’s not the point. One little text would have saved me so much worry. Do you understand?’
She looks sulkily at the floor. ‘I just didn’t have time. And I don’t know why you get in such a flap when I’m only half an hour late.’
Irritation rises up. ‘You were an hour and a half late. And I get in a flap because I care about you, Tavie, and I want to protect you. I’m the grown-up here and you’re the child. Sometimes I think you forget that. Look, I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but while you’re living under this roof, you’ll respect my rules or pay the consequences.’ I swallow hard. ‘You’re grounded until the weekend. Then I’ll reconsider.’
Her eyes flash angrily. ‘You can’t stop me going to Amy’s Christmas party next week. There’s no way I’m missing that.’
‘Well, we’ll have to see, won’t we?’ I’m trying to keep my tone bright and unemotional, but I’m not doing very well. ‘If you don’t put a foot wrong until then, I might let you go. But give me any more worry like you did last night and you can definitely forget about going to that party!’
Her look is full of venom. ‘You say you care, but I don’t believe you. If you did, you’d think about my feelings. It’s the anniversary of Dad’s death on the day of Amy’s party, and I want to be with my friends…they’re the ones who really care about me! Not you! You wouldn’t even let me go to Dad’s funeral. Everyone I talk to thinks that’s so heartless. So please stop the loving step-mother act because I really don’t believe it.’
She barges out and slams the