‘And I know you love living in London, Christopher, but we just want to make it clear that if you want to move a little closer, you’d have grandparents to hand,’ Esther says with a knowing smile that makes Haf feel so queasy.
This seems to be the last straw, because Christopher finally sits up straight, looks at his father and says, ‘No.’
‘No?’ asks Otto, his smile warping in confusion.
‘No. Thank you, Dad,’ he says, slowly at first, building confidence with each word. ‘But I can’t accept the job offer.’
‘Why not? You’ve earned it.’
‘I just—’
‘You just what, Christopher?’ Esther asks, her eyebrows arched in bafflement.
‘I just can’t do it. I just...’ He takes a deep breath. ‘I need to take some time off work.’
‘What’s wrong, Christopher?’ asks Esther, switching to motherly concern. ‘Did something happen?’
‘Over a long time, perhaps.’
Haf and Kit lock eyes over the table. Is he really going to tell them now?
‘I’m burned out, and the job I already have is making me miserable, completely miserable. I can’t go on working there. And I know that if I work for you, it’ll be more of the same for me, and that’s not because of you, Dad, or the business itself.’ He steadies himself with a deep breath. ‘It’s me. It’s justme. I’m not cut out for that world, or being in an office all the time. And I’m worried if I keep trying to squeeze myself into that box, into that mould of who you think I could be, then something in me is going to just break.’
Silence fills the table, only broken by Esther loudly saying, ‘Oh.’
Otto seems to be vibrating with fury. ‘You don’t think everything I’ve built for you is good enough? Is that it, boy?’ hebarks so loudly that next to him, Kit, startled, drops her cutlery onto her plate with a clatter.
‘No, Dad, it’s not—’
‘I’ve worked hard my whole life to build a life just for you and your sister, and you just what? Don’t care?’
He’s hurt, Haf realises. This was a gift of a secure life, a permanent financial blanket for their combined future and the future of their imaginary children. And Christopher has just turned around and said Otto’s idea of what is good isbadfor him.
Otto gets to his feet and paces, unsure what to do with himself.
‘Dad, that’s not what he’s saying at all,’ Kit says, getting to her feet and taking his large arm in her own, like Belle calming the Beast. ‘Take a deep breath and sit back down. You need to listen to him.’
‘What do you know about this?’ Esther asks, rounding on Kit.
‘I know that he’s unhappy there. That’s been obvious for ages.’
‘It has not been obvious,’ snaps Esther, affronted.
‘Can we all just take a moment to remember that we should care about whether our family members are happy? That matters to us, doesn’t it?’
Haf nods enthusiastically, but no one else replies and it is gutting.
‘I just can’t think about this right now,’ Otto says, and he marches away from the table.
In the distance, a door slams, rattling the glass in the grandfather clock.
Without another word, Christopher gets up from the table and leaves the room.
Across the table, Kit returns to her seat.
‘Well, that didn’t go as planned,’ says Esther, who begins gathering up the serving plates even though no one seems to beactually finished eating. ‘You think he’d be thrilled that we just offered him a company.’
‘Mum, come on,’ says Kit, which is almost certainly the only time Kit hasn’t called her Esther.
