‘It’s . . . it’s . . .’ he stumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. His nervous habit.
‘Let me guess, you haven’t told them you hate your job either?’ Christopher looks down at his socks. ‘Why? What are you so afraid of?’
‘Come on, Kit, we both know Dad’s been wanting me to go work for his company since I was a teenager. I can’t exactly say, “Sorry, Dad I’m quitting this job, but I don’t want to work with you either” because it means I’m rejecting all that, everything he built for us, and I just—’
‘Yes, he built it for us but that doesn’t mean you have to,’ she says, a softness creeping in. ‘It’s not up to you to take over his company. This isn’t fucking old-school primogeniture, Christopher. You’re not the next in line for the throne.’
‘That’s easy for you to say.’
‘Is it?’ she laughs. ‘Pray tell why you think that? Go on, I’m curious.’
‘You’ve always banged your own drum, and they respected you for that. You’re your own person. You’ve always been.’
A smirk appears in the corner of her mouth, which turns into a laugh of disbelief. ‘Are you actually serious?’
‘Of course I’m serious!’
‘Christopher, I had to be like that because otherwise Esther would have wrapped me up in cotton wool and not let me do anything, ever. It’s not because I wanted to be like that, it’s because I had to. Can you imagine what my life would look like if they had got their way and kept me here in Oxlea instead of letting me go out into the world?’
‘Mmm. Fair point,’ he murmurs. ‘There probably would have been significantly more murder.’
‘More murder?’ Haf squeaks.
‘There’s been no murder.’ Kit huffs.
‘She wasn’t trying to jail you though, Kit,’ Christopher says weakly.
‘Is that what you remember?’ Kit asks with a deep tiredness.
He does a kind of combination nod-shrug, a little guilty for his recollection obviously not lining up with hers.
‘Well, no offence, bud,’ she laughs. ‘But you were a thirteen-year-old boy. Of course, you didn’t notice what was going on; you were too busy trying to get into Laurel’s knickers. A running theme, apparently.’
Shocked, Haf falls apart laughing. Christopher’s flush is practically crimson now, but he’s smiling at least.
‘Thanks for that. As if this conversation wasn’t already completely mortifying.’
‘It’s all your own making, kiddo,’ says Kit, shaking her head. ‘But really, it’s okay. I don’t blame you for not knowing what was going on. We both know I’m hardly an open book at the best of times, never mind when I was a dickhead fifteen-year-old.’
‘I’m sorry though, for not paying attention,’ he says. ‘And for not being there now. Maybe it was okay to be oblivious as a teenager, but I’m not one any more.’
‘Ostensibly,’ she teases. ‘This whole fake-dating thing feels very emotionally teenage, don’t you think?’
Luna yawns, as if in agreement.
‘But.’ She sighs. ‘Saying all that, I can imagine that meant the parents put more pressure on you, especially if Otto was determined one of us inherit the business.’
‘Why do you say that?’ Christopher asks.
‘I don’t think they’d trust me with it. They don’t think I’m well enough to be working,’ she says softly. ‘Do you know how many times Esther has essentially suggested that I retire early?’
In her impression of Esther’s voice, she continues, ‘You know, Katharine, when you and your partner have children, you could be the stay-at-home parent. Wouldn’t that be better for you than working full-time? Katharine, have you ever considered asking to go part-time at your work? Katharine, I read this article about people who’d changed careers to do something from home and it really seems to be like such a fascinating idea. Katharine, why don’t you quit and move back home?’
‘Eesh, that’s a lot,’ Haf says.
‘It is. And if I try to be generous, which let it be known is very difficult for me right now, I can imagine that probably added more to your plate.’ Christopher tries to speak but she stops him. ‘I’m not apologising, but acknowledging that things are different for us.’
‘What do youactuallywant to do, Christopher?’ Haf asks. ‘The baking?’
