Chapter 17

Dear Santa,

Can I have a doll that will eat, drink, walk, do my homework, and clean my room?

From,

Ruby

It’s December 24th, a couple of days later, and we’re in the middle of a busy morning. We’re closing in an hour’s time seeing as Norway’s main festive celebration is on Christmas Eve, and the last thing I expect is Tav to call with a reindeer problem.

‘Careful, I don’t want to frighten her,’ he says when he hears me approaching.

I squeeze through the trees behind the post office until I find Tav’s footprints and follow the trail to the fence that divides our land from the overgrown back area of the outdoor pursuits company, the one he mentioned ages ago.

Tav’s on his knees in the snow, trying to calm down a female reindeer with both her antlers caught in the broken wire fencing, wrapped around and trapping her in place. When she sees me coming, she backs up and starts bucking and twisting, only serving to tighten the wire trapping her.

Tav murmurs to her soothingly. He’s got one arm through the fence, the wire digging into his forearm as he tries to reassure her. ‘She’s terrified and if she pulls much more she’s going to rip the antlers out or cause herself some other serious injury.’

‘What do we do?’

‘There’s no way of untangling this. I need to cut her loose wire by wire.’ He uses his free hand to dig in his pockets for a set of keys and chucks them to me blindly, and I pick them up from where they land in the snow. ‘There’s a toolbox under the desk in my cabin. Can you go and get it? I can’t risk leaving her, especially with so many people around, and judging by the size of her stomach, I think she’s pregnant. So at least we know what Rudolph Number Three has been up to on his jaunts around the forest and why he’s so keen to get out all the time.’

The one-antlered male reindeer is standing nearby, looking worried. ‘Aww, Clive, you’ve got yourself a girlfriend. You’re going to be a daddy.’ I still have lichen in my pocket and hand him a clump, but he drops it without interest, too concerned over the new female reindeer’s welfare.

I recognise her as the one I saw him with ages ago, and the one who comes by the kitchen window to critique my cooking skills.

‘It’s a big metal box with a handle. There are reindeer ropes nearby. Can you grab a couple of them too? I can’t let her go after this, I need to check her over and find out if she’s got an owner. If not, she can stay with us.’

It feels good to be doing something useful, and especially good that Tav has actually asked for my help. I dart around tourists as I run up the main road of the North Pole Forest to the tiny path towards the reindeer sanctuary, weaving through trees and jumping over snowdrifts like it’s an Olympic event and it still feels like it takes me hours to reach Tav’s cabin.

The desk is piled high, and I skid over to it so fast that I ram into it with my thigh and send a stack of papers flying, fluttering down around me like a papery snowstorm as I sink to my knees and stick my head underneath. I pull out the huge metal box tucked into one corner, grab two ropes that are hung on the wall above, and run back out the door. It’s only when I go to close it that I realise the mess I’ve left of papers all over the floor. I drop the things and dash back, gathering them up at super speed and shoving them onto the desk. Tav will understand them not being in order.

And then I catch sight of my name.

I pull the sheet out of the haphazard pile and scan over it. It’s a bullet point to-do list, signed by my dad at the bottom, and the date at the top is the day I arrived.

The first point is *Pick Sasha up from airport and in brackets underneath is – Something exciting that she won’t be able to back out of. No reindeer. Too dull.

I immediately think of the huskies. That was planned? That was set up as something I wouldn’t be able to back out of? What?

*Sasha is your number-one priority. She takes precedence over all other jobs.

I’m a job? I blink at the paper. Half of me doesn’t understand what I’m reading and half of me already knows.

*Get her anything she wants.

*Make her feel important. I’ve never made her feel important in my life and I want her to feel that here.

*Christmas magic. I’ve failed epically at making Christmases magical for her. Let’s make a real effort with Christmas magic.

*Get her involved. I don’t think she makes many connections in her life – make her feel a part of something.

*Outdoorsy stuff. I don’t think she likes the outdoors much and she needs to get more fresh air.

Am I ten? I feel like a child sitting there while my dad scolds me for having too much screen time. Why has Tav got a printed-out sheet with all this stuff on it? Why is my dad sharing this with Tav?

The memory of Tav saying he gets jobsheets from my father every week flickers across my mind. That’s what this is.

These are his instructions. For dealing with me.

I scrabble out another page, dated the following week this time.

*Remind her of childhood Christmases. She used to love Christmas but she doesn’t anymore. I think that’s because of me. My dad’s added a hand-drawn crying Santa face underneath the printed sentence.

*Give her a wishing jar. She would’ve loved that as a little girl.

*The post office was a brilliant idea. Nothing can invoke the spirit of Christmas more than a few Santa letters. Make sure Sash carries on reading them.

Tears splashing onto the paper is the first thing to tip me off that I’m crying.

None of this has been real. My entire stay here has been carefully orchestrated by my dad.

And implemented by Tav.

I don’t need to read the rest of the commands on the second page to know what each one will say. Every single thing we’ve done together hasn’t been spontaneous and fun – it’s been part of his to-do list. Every aspect planned to precision. As instructed by his boss. The heading on the paper may as well read “Operation make Sasha into the daughter I wish she was’. Why else would my dad be writing these? Some underhanded way of making me more like him? I’ve never been the daughter he wanted and he’s finally seen a way to manipulate me into changing?

I feel like I’ve been hit by a submarine. I thought Tav was honest to a fault, but nothing that’s happened between us has been genuine. He’s been following instructions.

I feel like I’m part of one of those magician’s tricks where they’re poking swords into a box but something’s gone wrong and every bullet point on that list is a further stab.

He was told to do everything he’s done.

Shaking my head to clear it reminds me of the reindeer and I scramble to my feet and grab the toolbox and ropes and shove the two pages into my pocket. I’ve already wasted too much time, but I’m sure she’ll understand. She’s a woman. She’s probably been lied to by bulls too.

‘I knew this fence was going to be a problem,’ Tav says when he hears me approaching. ‘If the outdoor pursuits place won’t replace it, I’m going to have to do it myself.’

The reindeer is calmer now and I creep forwards and set the box down within Tav’s reach, and he digs around blindly until he finds a pair of small clippers.

‘Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

‘Oh, I think you do,’ I mutter.

He gives me a questioning glance over his shoulder but doesn’t have time to concentrate on me at the moment, and that’s fine, because I don’t know how to process this information yet.

It changes everything.

I thought he liked me. I thought we had a genuine connection. But everything he’s done is part of his job. Every little thing was on a list. From the very first moment I met him, he was following instructions. Everything was a set-up. Everything was manipulated.

‘What can I do to help?’ I ask because the reindeer bucks and starts pulling again at the sound of the snip as he cuts through the first wire.

‘Nothing for now. It’s a one-person job.’

I sit down next to Rudolph-slash-Clive and pick up the lichen he dropped earlier. This time he takes it out of my hand and chews it, like he knows Tav’s got the situation under control and is feeling a bit better about it. All I can think of is the folded pages shoved in my pocket.

Tav cuts the wires entangling the reindeer’s antlers piece by piece, painstakingly slow and calm. Every movement is precise and calculated, being careful not to stress her out more than she is already. He murmurs to her the whole time, stopping to stroke her side when she gets impatient. An expert at keeping people calm in unusual situations.

When most of the wire is cut and bent away, Tav manages to get his arm through the fence and sling a rope around the reindeer’s neck, and he beckons me over to hold it while he cuts the last tangles of wire and frees her. I expect her to run away, but she stands quietly, patiently waiting while Tav cuts away enough of the fencing to make a big enough gap for her to get through, offers her lichen from his pocket, and then tugs the rope gently, encouraging her to cross to our side.

And she does. She trusts him now. She knows he’s trying to help, but I keep hold of the rope while he quickly examines her. ‘Definitely pregnant. Given the number of times we’ve seen her around, and the fact she has no notches on her ears to show she belongs to a herder, I’m guessing she’s wild, maybe orphaned or abandoned by her own herd. She can stay here. It might keep Rudolph-slash-Clive in a bit too, seeing as it seems he’s only been sneaking out to meet up with his girlfriend. Do you want to name her?’

‘How about you tell me the truth?’

He looks at me with a raised eyebrow. ‘Quite an odd name for a reindeer. I was thinking more along the lines of Blitzen Number Five or something a bit more traditional.’

‘I didn’t mean the reindeer. I meant you, Tav.’

‘The truth about what?’

‘Your job, for a start.’

‘What?’ He looks confused. ‘Sash, you’re not making any sense.’

I sigh and pull the folded pages from my pocket and open them out. ‘I found your jobsheets, Tav. So has everything between us been part of your assignment or just ninety-nine-point-nine-nine per cent of all things?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ He wraps the reindeer’s rope around his wrist and holds out his hand and I pass them over.

He’s pale anyway but I can see the colour drain from his cheeks and he shakes his head as his eyes scan over the pages. ‘Okay, I know what this looks like, but you’ve got the wrong end of the stick. You can’t honestly believe—’

‘Believe? It’s right here, printed off in black and white. It’s probably on a spreadsheet somewhere! I’ve just read everything we’ve done together in bullet point list form, planned to precision before we actually did it.’

‘Sash, I haven’t read these! I glanced at the first one solely to get your flight time to meet you at the airport—’

‘In a pre-decided husky dog sled!’ I shout, upsetting both reindeer.

‘Well, yeah, because your dad said you liked dogs so I thought it would be a nice touch, not because I read this!’

‘What the hell are these doing in your cabin then? Filed neatly with all the other to-do lists he sends you every week. Clean Santa’s windows, shovel the pathways, change the lightbulb in Mistletoe Cabin, fix the toilet flush in igloo #12, oh, and don’t forget to make Sasha fall in love with you!’

‘You’re in lo—’ He stops himself when he realises that now is not the time to comment on that ill-timed remark that I didn’t intend to say aloud. Instead he shoves a hand through his hair. ‘They weren’t filed neatly, they were face down on my desk with all the others I ignore every week. God, Sash, I don’t read these things. I told you I’ve been fighting against your dad all year – struggling with him taking over and no longer being my own boss. Yes, he puts one of these through my door every Monday morning, more often if the mood catches him, and I never read them because I hate being told what to do. I’ve worked here for fifteen years. I built the place. I have a very good idea of what needs doing without his input. I know he’s trying to help, but I hate the implication that I’m not on top of things.’ His hand swings down, like the pages are too heavy to hold up. ‘Didn’t you notice the two piles? One face down for things I’m ignoring, one face up for things that need dealing with.’

I hesitate. ‘Well, admittedly I didn’t see which way they were facing … I knocked into your desk and sent them flying …’

I meet his eyes, and I want to believe him, but I shake myself. ‘It doesn’t make any difference which way they were facing. You’re trying to distract me with minutiae. Facts are facts, Tav.’

‘I know how bad this looks, but it isn’t how it looks. I don’t like your dad’s approach. I don’t need to be micro-managed. I glanced at the first one and knew straight away that it wasn’t something I was going to have any part in. You can’t manipulate people into having a good time. I didn’t want anything to do with this. I didn’t want anything to do with you. I had enough to do without being lumbered as caretaker of some condescending tourist who didn’t want to break a perfectly manicured nail.’

‘Wow. Nothing like a bit of honesty.’

‘I don’t mean now, Sash.’ He rolls his eyes. ‘That’s what I thought you’d be like, and that changed the moment you ordered me into the house on the first night. I’m trying to explain that when I got those sheets, I was angry. I ripped them from the letterbox and slapped them face down on the pile of things to ignore because I was annoyed at your father for adding to my workload with frivolous tasks that were never part of my job description. I didn’t want to do a crash course in adult-babysitting. I wanted to get on with the endless list of jobs I already had for myself. I didn’t need his patronising work notes telling me what needs to be done.’

‘You’ve already said you looked at it.’

‘Yes, I saw the priority bit, but his priorities and mine are different, and quite frankly, I didn’t give a toss what his were. Mine are the reindeer and fixing everything that needs fixing around here in some sort of logical order. I didn’t want to look after you as well. I didn’t expect to get on with you. And that wishing jar thing … I don’t even know why he put that on there because I put one of those in every gift basket, without fail. One for each person in each cabin.’

I glare at him. ‘Now you’re trying to make me feel special by making me feel non-special?’

‘You’re the most special person I’ve ever met. You’ve turned my world upside down. How can you not know that? Every rule I’ve lived my life by went out the window when you ordered me into the house. That one simple gesture punched a hole straight through my walls. It was the first time anyone’s ever not accepted “I’m fine” as my brush-off answer.’ He takes a step towards me with one hand held out, and I take a step backwards.

‘You’ve been making me feel special – exactly as it’s written here.’

‘I haven’t been making you feel special. You are special.’

I hate him for always knowing exactly what to say to make me melt, but it’s not that simple this time.

‘You are special and I don’t think you have enough people in your life who tell you that,’ he continues. ‘Until the other day, I was working on the assumption you were leaving, and I wanted you to go back with a bit more self-worth than you came with.’

I’m crying again because I want it to be true so badly, but no one can argue with cold, hard, printed in Times New Roman facts. ‘Everything I thought was so special about you was pre-planned, Tav. The coincidences. The stuff we have in common. The songs you sing that remind me of my mum – did he tell you what her favourite songs were? Even Shakin’ flipping Stevens. That was her favourite Christmas song and I thought it was a sign from the universe that you started singing it, but was it because he told you?’

‘No, it wasn’t.’ He looks at the paper and then slaps it with the backs of his fingers, his voice sounding panicky. ‘It doesn’t say anything about songs on here. He never mentioned anything about that at all. This doesn’t change anything, Sash. It’s just words on a piece of paper that I promise you I didn’t even read.’

It makes the tears fall harder. ‘It changes everything. Everything that’s been so perfect since I got here, everything that’s felt like it’s meant to be has been because it was designed that way. Everything I liked about you. Your childlike joy, your belief in nisse, the matter-of-fact way you speak about flying reindeer. I thought you were an adorable big kid, but all your joy was faked to give me some weird nostalgic childhood Christmas experience. You’re a grown man. You don’t believe in elves. No one does. And I wish more people did, and I thought you were that person.’

‘That’s not true.’

I shake my head. I can’t believe him. There are too many coincidences between this list and how the past few weeks have gone. ‘Why is my dad doing this? I know I’ve never been the daughter he wanted, but what did he think he was going to get from this? That it would somehow turn me into being outdoorsy and adventurous?’

Tav’s quiet for a moment, thinking it over, and even in the midst of this, with two reindeer and a distressed woman shouting, I appreciate that about him. ‘He feels guilty. He got reflective after the heart attack. Thinking over mistakes he’s made in his life. The way things have gone between you is his biggest regret. I don’t think there’s anything nefarious in these, Sash. He was trying to make up for the Christmases he failed you.’

‘Or did he know it would come to this? Did he painstakingly plan to make me fall in love with this place, knowing I could come to the rescue by selling the house?’

The chatter of tourists and the laughter of children filtering across the forest brings into sharp focus the juxtaposition of how hopeless I feel. I’ve never felt less Christmassy, and that’s saying something.

‘I can’t believe he’s capable of that. He’d be a different man than I thought—’

‘Ho ho ho!’ My dad’s rumbling laugh approaches through the trees. ‘What’s going on out here then? Anja said something about a trapped reindeer.’

I let out an audible groan. Dealing with Tav is one thing, but trying to handle them both together and this revelation is too much.

Like Tav can sense that, he tugs the reindeer’s rope and starts walking off, beckoning for Rudolph to follow him.

‘You two need to talk.’ He holds the pages out to me as he passes, and when I snatch them from his hand, he waits until I look up at him, his blue-brown eyes uncomfortably open and honest, and for just a second, I suspect he’s telling the truth.

But the moment sputters away when the Arctic breeze rustles through the forest and flaps the papers in my hand, reminding me of quite how ridiculous this situation is.

Tav sighs. ‘I’ll take the reindeer back and give her a proper check-over. Come and find me when you’re ready. We can sort this out.’

He vanishes from view between the trees with both reindeer in tow and Dad looks in the direction he went with a puzzled look on his face. ‘Has something happened?’

‘You.’ I shove the pages at him. ‘You’ve happened.’

‘You can’t honestly think he reads these?’ He almost “ho ho ho”s again as he reads over them, clearly not getting that this is also not the time for a jolly Santa act. ‘He indulges me by not telling me where to shove them because I’m a daft old fool and he’s a gent. Can you imagine being able to tell a man like Tav what to do?’

‘Then why do you send them?’

‘To feel like I’m earning my title as owner? The truth is I’ve been pretty useless since last year. When I took over, I had so many grand plans, but they all fell through because of my health. I’ve let him down. These lists are me trying to make myself feel worthwhile. I thought if I could curate his endless list of tasks into some kind of logical order, it might be less overwhelming. It’s selfishness really, to make myself feel like I’m making a contribution to the place.’

Even though I understand that, and I can easily imagine how frustrated my dad is by the limitations of his old age, it doesn’t make this any better. ‘None of that explains this. From the very first second you phoned, I’ve felt like my decisions were being pre-decided for me. On that phone call, you’d decided I was coming here before I’d even answered the call. You must’ve written these lists beforehand too. You sounded so ill on the phone. A fragility that magically disappeared as soon as I agreed and hasn’t been evident since I got here.’

‘I wanted to see you, Sash. I may have been exaggerating a little because I was terrified you’d say no and I’d die before I got to see you again.’

The honesty makes my breath catch because I was terrified of the same thing. ‘You should’ve just said that.’

‘I didn’t think you’d come. I wouldn’t have blamed you for telling me where to go. I’ve missed every important event of your life. I’ve never come back when you’ve asked me to. You had every right to refuse when the shoe was on the other foot.’

He shivers, making me realise I’ve forgotten how cold it is. ‘You shouldn’t be outside in only a Santa suit. Come on, the post office isn’t far.’

I’m taller than his shrunken form now and I slip my arm around his shoulders, rubbing his back as we head along the narrow path back to the building.

Inside, I turn the heater up to maximum, make him sit down in the back office, blanket him up, and pour him out a hot chocolate from the flask Tav brought me earlier, and I’m once again grateful for his thoughtfulness, but the idea that maybe that was on a list somewhere too prickles at my mind. It impacts on every aspect of my time here.

Dad’s still clutching the pages in his hand. ‘This was because I wanted him to know some of our history and I was too embarrassed to admit it out loud. He knew things were strained because I talked a little, but it was easier to write it down.’

‘But you can’t plan people’s lives like this. You basically paid him to spend time with me. I thought he liked me, but it was because his boss had instructed him to. I’ve never been a priority in anyone’s life, and I thought Tav was different.’ I perch on the edge of the oak desk and sip a hot chocolate that does nothing to warm me up.

‘I didn’t tell him to spend time with you, Sasha. That was all him.’

‘You told him to make me feel important!’

‘Yeah, in a butler-ish way. I didn’t want you to want for anything this Christmas. I wanted someone to attend your every need. I know you don’t like the outdoorsy life and he’s an excellent guide when it comes to things like that.’

‘That is not what’s written on those pages. It goes a lot more in-depth than being some sort of wilderness guide.’

‘He doesn’t read them. He gave it a glance and told me not to be so patronising. Everything he’s done has been his own choice. I might be the owner, but I’m not his boss in a traditional sense. I don’t have any authority over him.’ He fiddles with his empty cup. ‘All I wanted was to give you a nice Christmas. The North Pole Forest makes me feel like a child again. I wanted you to experience that magic. A way of making up for lost time. Tav is the magic behind this place, and I wanted him to share that with you. A childhood Christmas, like the ones you missed out on.’

‘All I’ve ever wanted for Christmas was to be important enough for you to spend it with me.’

It seems to take the wind right out of Dad’s sails. ‘And you never felt like you were.’ He says it as a statement, not a question. ‘It wasn’t because of you. I was battling my own demons, my own grief.’

‘But you never thought about mine. I was twelve. I’d lost my mum. I needed a father around, not halfway up a skyscraper somewhere in Saudi Arabia wrestling Komodo dragons. I needed us to grieve together. I know things were different without Mum, and Nan was great, but she didn’t know our lives. So many times I wanted to reminisce with the only other person who was actually there, to think of the Christmases we used to have, to remember the good times. I needed to matter more to you than your next great adventure.’

‘I haven’t been on adventures. I’ve been running away.’

‘From what?’

He puts his cup down on the chair arm and takes the Santa hat off his head to fiddle with the white pompom on the end. ‘From the fact I killed her.’

‘Mum? It was an accident. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.’

‘But if I’d been going slower or my reactions had been faster … I was driving and I walked away unhurt.’

‘You had three broken ribs, organ damage, and internal bleeding! You were in hospital for weeks!’

‘But I lived. She didn’t.’

My breath catches and a lump forms in my throat. I had no idea he felt like that. No idea he’d ever blamed himself for the accident. He never spoke about it afterwards. He recovered from his injuries in silence. He barely left his room after my nan came to stay, and then he left for his first great expedition.

‘When I’m doing something adventurous, it’s the only time I don’t think about it. That’s why I’ve kept chasing adrenalin rushes. Because they’re the only thing that’s ever temporarily blocked out the feelings of guilt. Coming back to our happy family home, being still and quiet, in the places she loved but without her … I couldn’t do it. And you’re right. I was so wrapped up in my own grief that I never stopped to consider yours. I thought you were better off without me.’

‘That’s not true. It never even crossed my mind to blame you.’

‘I blamed myself and I always will do. But this place … Coming here was the first time I wanted to stop running. I got the job as Santa Claus because it sounded like fun, but as soon as I set foot here, something changed. Something tethered me to this place. It’s been like having a part of your mum back. The first time I came here, I felt like she was with me. I couldn’t wait to come back for the next festive season.’

I look upwards and pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to stop the tears from falling. ‘Mum would’ve adored it here.’

‘And him. Can you imagine how much she would’ve loved Tav?’

I smile at the thought. She really would.

‘Tav’s a big part of the sense of peace I feel here. Someone so centred and grounded. I still don’t know what happened to him, but I’ve got an idea because of the connection I felt with him from the first time we met, and because he doesn’t hide those scars nearly as well as he thinks he does.’

I have to stamp down the all-too-familiar urge to find him and hug him. I didn’t realise the importance of him opening up to me. Was that carefully constructed too? And maybe the point is that I can never tell. I will never know if anything Tav did was genuine or because it was his task of the day.

‘And now I’ve let you all down.’ Dad puts the Santa hat back on his head and then takes it off again. ‘You, him, and your mum. I wanted to do something to make her proud, and instead I’ve meddled and tried too hard and it’s all gone pear-shaped. Don’t let this change things between you and Tav.’

‘It’s a bit late for that.’

‘I know Tav. He can’t fake anything. I’ve never seen him like he is around you. There’s nothing about that that’s false. You’ve metaphorically swept him off his feet. He’s in a daze whenever you’re nearby. He puts his head on your shoulder every time you sit next to each other. I’ve known Tav for years and I’ve never even seen him close his eyes. Never seen him relax. He only sits down once in every three blue moons.’

It makes me think of the other day when Tav flopped down beside me on the living room sofa and rested his head on my shoulder and Dad walked in and couldn’t hide his surprise.

‘Don’t let this interfering old fogey ruin what’s happened between you two. You’ve changed him. You’ve made him stop and realise that he is worth taking care of and that he can’t keep going and going forever. Before, I think he felt quite unimportant, like part of the furniture here. This job defined him. He is the North Pole Forest. But you’ve seen him. You’re the first person to realise that he’s a person too – he’s not just a job, and he’d be missed if he was gone, because of him, not because of what he brings to the North Pole Forest.’

‘This changes everything, Dad. It changes his integrity. No matter what he did or didn’t read, I thought we had some mystical connection, that he got me, but he knew everything about me upfront.’ I pace the room, treading on envelopes that have fallen from a nearby mail bag.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’m going to go home.’

‘What? Sasha, you can’t …’ Dad gets up out of the chair, reaching out a hand like he’s trying to stop me.

‘This was all just a fantasy. These pages prove that. Girls like me don’t do things like this. We’re meant to stay where we are. Do run-of-the-mill jobs for people who don’t appreciate us. We don’t step on a plane at a moment’s notice and sell our houses on a whim. We don’t believe in magic because it isn’t real.’

‘Sash, no.’

‘Yes, Dad. This isn’t real life. It never was. It’s a Christmas story. A fairy tale. A magical forest deep in the Arctic Circle where elves dart out of sight and reindeer stick their noses in your windows and “dashing through the snow” is a regular occurrence. But every fairy tale has to end sometime. Accept your other offer. Or don’t. Keep it. You’re in a good position now. You and Tav can take on staff and not go chasing reindeer around frozen forests in the middle of the night. But I have to go back to real life and get a proper job and pretend the last few weeks didn’t happen, because that is what a sensible, rational person would do.’

‘Sasha, don’t let it end like this.’ My dad looks absolutely distraught. The broken look on his face is almost enough to make me doubt my convictions.

‘I’m glad we’ve had this time together.’ My teeth are nearly cutting through the inside of my cheek as I try to keep my emotions in check. I clap my hands on both his upper arms and then bend down to give him a stiff hug, because I’m going to burst into a fountain of tears if he hugs me back. ‘It’s been good to reconnect. I wish you’d told me everything you’ve just said years ago, and I’m glad you’ve found something that makes you happy, but for me, this is absolute proof of what happens when you step outside of your comfort zone.’

‘You find something wonderful?’ Dad pulls back, sounding hopeful.

‘You get hurt.’