Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [33]
Anton was only mildly surprised that she had left Kevin. He had always assumed that she would one day. He was less enthusiastic, however, about the notion that she might move into one of the spare rooms in the new building.
“I could make a bed-sitter out of this room and my office out of that one.” Lisa pointed out two rooms down the corridor off the new kitchen.
“This one’s the cold room and that’s for linen and china,” he said impatiently.
“Well, eventually, but I have to have somewhere to work and we agreed that I should help with the marketing as well …,” she began, but he started to look cross again so she dropped it.
It had to be home.
The reception was more glacial than she had expected.
“Lisa, you are twenty-five years of age. You have been well educated—expensively educated. Why can’t you find a place to live and work like other girls do? Girls with none of your advantages and privileges …” Her father spoke to her as if she were a vagrant who had come into his bank and asked to sleep behind the counter.
“Even poor Katie, and Lord knows she never achieved much, she’s at least able to look after herself,” Lisa’s mother said witheringly of her other daughter.
“I thought you’d be pleased that I was going out on my own,” Lisa said. “I’m even thinking of taking some classes, on starting your own business and the like. I’m showing initiative.”
“Mad is more like it. These days anyone who has a job holds on to it instead of throwing it up on a whim,” her father said.
“And no rent for the foreseeable future,” her mother sighed. “And you’ll want the heating on during the day when there’s no one else at home. And you want businesspeople filing in and out of this house. No, Lisa, it’s not on.”
“If we were to let your room to a stranger, we could get a proper rent for it,” her father added.
“What about the dining room? I could put shelves and a filing system into it …,” Lisa began.
“And ruin the lovely dining room? I think not,” her mother said.
“Why don’t you forget the whole idea and stay where you are … in the agency,” her father suggested, his tone slightly kinder as he saw her distressed face. “Do that, like a good girl, and we’ll say no more about any of this.”
Lisa didn’t trust herself to speak anymore. She walked quickly to the front door and left the house.
She didn’t care about money. She didn’t mind working hard, and even though she hated self-pity she did begin to feel that the world was conspiring against her. Her own family were so unsupportive and her boyfriend impervious to any signals and hints. He was her boyfriend, wasn’t he? He had mentioned no other woman and he had said she was lovely. Admittedly, he hadn’t said he loved her, but being lovely was the same thing.
Lisa caught sight of herself in a shopwindow: she looked hunched and defeated.
This would never do. She brushed her hair, put on more makeup and held her shoulders back and strode confidently along to Anton’s, to the place where a great restaurant was about to rise from the rubble and confusion that was currently there.
Later she would think about where to live and where to work. Tonight she would just drop into the gourmet shop and buy some smoked salmon and cream cheese. She wouldn’t weary him with her problems. She would hate to see that impatient frown again on his handsome face.
To her great annoyance there were eight people there already, including her friend Miranda, who had been the one to introduce her to Anton in the first place. They were sitting around eating very gooey-looking pizza.
“Lisa!” Anton managed to sound delighted, welcoming and surprised at the same time, as if Lisa didn’t come there every evening.
“Come on in, Lisa, and have some pizza. Isn’t Miranda clever? She found exactly what