Ну вот, дочь, теперь это твоя комната. Устраивайся.
Well, love, this is your new room now. Make yourself at home,**.**
Rosie took a few tentative steps.
The bed was draped in a ridiculous, fluffy duvet. A desk sat beneath a sleek lamp, its laptop open and humming. A wardrobe with mirrored doors stood against the wall, and a rectangular rug with a geometric pattern lay nearby. Everything was stylish, pricey, and nothing like the shabby little space shed left behind.
Her father rolled in two large suitcases packed with Rosies belongings and set them by the wardrobe.
Youll manage the unpacking yourself?
Naturally! He must think shell ask him, or Lucy?
Lucy appeared, clutching a longleafed plant, and perched it on the windowsill.
Thought itd look nice here, she said with a bright grin, staring at Rosie, who stood sullen and silent.
Lets go, Simon, Lucy whispered, slipping a hand onto her fathers shoulder and guiding him toward the door.
Settle in, she murmured as she gently shut the door behind her.
Rosie echoed the word in her head, feeling a wave of melancholy and unease. She collapsed onto the bed, turned her face to the wall, curled into a ball, hugged her knees, and shut her eyes.
Mumwhy? We were always together, and now youve left me. Why didnt you go to the hospital? Why did it have to end like this? she thought.
For the past ten years Rosie had been a proper mummys girl. After her mothers death shed barely seen her father and hardly spoke to him. Evenings used to be spent with Mum in front of the telly, the smell of her homemade scones and a pot of tea filling the house. Now she was forced to live with strangers. Her dad didnt even call her by namejust daughter. The word dad felt clumsy on her tongue.
She imagined that rich men after a divorce always married runway models with perfect lips, not someone like Lucy: younger than her dad, shorthaired, rather ordinary, running a modest legal practice. Lucy was clever, businesslike, not at all like Mum. The house used to smell of roast dinners and fresh pies; Lucy, by contrast, ordered takeaway most nights.
Did she decorate this place for me? Probably. Not dad. She does have decent taste, though.
Rosie ran a hand over the soft, longpile duvetsomething shed never had before.
At her new secondary school Rosie quickly made friends. They welcomed her, largely because of her dads wealth and her striking looks. The girls decided it was easier to be mates than rivals.
Before, the only person she truly trusted was Mum; now this new crowd liked her, understood her, and made her feel useful. For the first time she felt the secret thrill of boys attention.
At first she truly struggled with her situation, and the class labelled her a halforphan stuck with a unwanted dad and a chilly stepmum. She liked the role and deliberately kept up the image.
She never heard a classmate whisper to the boys, Whys she always moaning about her stepmum? My mothers friend works for her and says shes a decent lady.
When Rosie finally trudged home very late, her father said, Girl, I know you want to spend time with your friends, so I didnt call. But Id like you not to stay out so late. Deal? Rosie said nothing and retreated to her room.
The next time they planned a night out, she switched her phone off. At home her dad waited, his face a storm cloud.
If this happens again, Ill have to take action, he warned.
Rosie shot him a quick angry glance and marched into her room. Lucy was perched on the bed and sprang up as Rosie entered.
Wanted to have a word, Lucy said.
Rosie stayed silent, her expression screaming, What more could you want? Lucy stammered, losing her resolve.
Rosie, hes worried about you, Lucy added.
Im almost sixteen! Rosie snapped.
She began coming home on time, not to enrage her dad. Shed plotted a sweetsixteen celebration with friends; the older brother of one of them had promised them a flat. Rosie was dating a boy she liked and dreamed of a quiet night just the two of them.
Daughter, Lucy booked a table for tomorrow. Well mark your birthday. If you want, you can invite your friends, her dad announced.
What? A restaurant? With you lot? I was planning a party with my mates! Rosie protested.
When were you going to tell us? he pressed.
I dont know maybe tomorrow, she muttered.
So on the day itself. Fine. If you want friends, you can have them over here. Lucy will sort the food, he replied.
Rosies stomach dropped. Everything was already arranged: Maxs brothers flat, booze stocked, decorations ready. The thought of being laughed at in front of her own family made her want to crawl under a rock. She left for school, vowing to think of a way out.
Later, in the hallway, a harsh light flared as her father loomed over her.
What do you think youre doing?! he roared, stepping closer, the smell of cheap lager and cigarette smoke hanging on her.
He raised his hand as if to slap her.
Simon! he shouted.
Lucy appeared behind him, eyes wide, mascara smudged from recent tears. She gently pulled her husband aside, took Rosie by the shoulders, and led her to the bedroom.
Quick, tell mehas anyone hurt you? Did anyone do anything bad? Lucy whispered.
Rosie shook her head.
No. Everythings fine.
Ill talk to your dad. What do you need? Lucy asked.
Bring me a drink. Rosie muttered.
Shes fine, Lucy told her husband, who was fidgeting by the door.
When Lucy returned, Rosie, still in her pyjamas, was fast asleep.
She smelled of alcohol! Did you notice? Simon blurted as Lucy tried to calm the situation.
The conversation turned to teenage years, to the fact that Rosies mother had left a huge void. Lucy admitted shed also been sixteen once.
The next morning Lucy slipped into Rosies room. Rosie lay awake, eyes open.
How are you feeling? Head hurting? Lucy asked, pulling back the curtains and handing Rosie a glass of water.
Rosie gulped it down greedily.
Why did you look after me yesterday? Lucy asked.
Well, I was sixteen too. Happy birthday, by the way, Lucy said, shrugging.
Rosie stayed silent.
Do you hate me? Lucy pressed.
Because of you, dad left. Rosie replied.
You know thats not true. We met a year after he left, Lucy replied.
Exactly! What if he came back? Rosie wondered.
Lucy sighed.
Its never that simple, Rosie. People often cant stitch their lives back together after a split.
Why? Whats stopping them? My mum was wonderful! Rosie protested.
Relationships are messy. Sometimes they work, sometimes they dont, and theres rarely a single villain, Lucy explained, reaching for Rosies hand. Rosie pulled away.
So if the boy I was seeing turns up at my birthday with another girl and dumps me, is he the only one at fault? Rosie asked.
Hmm. Think about it. Did he say anything else? Lucy prompted.
He called me overthinking. Rosie retorted.
See? Lucy said, a small smile forming.
At that moment Rosie suddenly craved a hug, the kind that would make her feel like a little girl again, safe and protected. Lucy seemed to sense it and pulled the crying girl close.
Rosie, I cant replace Mum, but Id love to be a friend, Lucy whispered. I fell in love at sixteen too; the guy was a year older, and he was also seeing someone else.
What did you do? Rosie asked.
We both broke up with him, Lucy replied.
My fault? Rosie asked.
I spent too much time on my studies, Lucy admitted.
They both burst into laughter, and the tension lifted.
Lets both have a day out today! You go to school, Ill head to work, and well splurge a bit of your dads money, okay? Lucy suggested.
Rosie gave a tentative smile.
All right! I talked to him yesterday; he said we can pick any gift. Shall we go? she said.
They chatted excitedly about shopping, completely oblivious when a sudden jolt ripped the car they were in. A terrifying screech of brakes, a harsh thud, then a softer knock, and everything fell silent.
Dad! Dad, were in the hospital! a voice shouted.
Half an hour later Rosie spotted her fathers silhouette at the end of a hospital corridor and waved.
Rosie! he called, sprinting toward her.
He grabbed her shoulders, scanning her from head to toe, noticing bruises on her face and arms.
Are you hurt? he asked, voice trembling.
No, Im fine, dad, Rosie replied, trying to sound brave.
He stared at her, eyes wide, then whispered,
Wheres Lucy?
In the ward. The impact came from her side. Some idiot crashed into us. Shes alive, dad! she answered.
He squeezed her tighter, shaking. She pressed her head against his shoulder, ashamed of yesterdays outburst.
A doctor entered.
Shes suffered a strong contusion and shock. The airbag did its job. Shell be fine. The most important thing is the child didnt get hurt.
The child? Simon looked bewildered at Rosie.
Yes, the child didnt get hurt.
The doctor gave a faint smile and left.
Its like I cant see that my child wasnt hurt, Simon muttered under his breath.
He wrapped his arms around Rosie once more.
Dad, you didnt get the point about the child?
And as the sun slipped behind the hospital roof, Rosie realized that, despite the turmoil, a strange but hopeful new chapter of blended family and friendship was finally beginning.
