My Not So Perfect Life(102)

“Oh God,” gasps Demeter, swiping for the paper but missing.

“Get it!”

“I’m trying to—”

“No!” I scream in sudden dread as I see Giles reaching for another firelighter to throw on the flames. “No, don’t, don’t—”



But it’s too late; he’s thrown it. The fire flares up with a fresh burst of energy and catches the paper midair. Within twenty seconds it’s burned away to nothing except a few specks of ash.

It’s gone.

I’m so stunned, I can’t move for about thirty seconds. Then I turn to Demeter and she looks like a ghost.

“Demeter, it’ll be OK,” I say desperately. “I believe you; something strange has definitely been going on—shit!” I gasp as I see a spark coming from her trousers. “Your leg! Fire! FIRE!”

To my horror, Demeter’s slouchy linen trousers have started to smolder at the edges. She must have caught a flame when she was trying to get the email.

“No,” she says, as though this is the last straw, and starts stamping her foot, trying to quench the flames.

“Buckets!” cries Dad, dropping his jingle-bell stick and running. “Fire! Get the buckets!”

“Coming through, coming through, coming through, everyone—” Steve’s strident, intoning voice cuts through the hubbub. The next thing I know, there are screams and cries of surprise, Demeter is drenched in freezing water, head to foot, and Steve is standing there with an empty bucket and a look of grim satisfaction.

I cannot believe he just did that.

“Well…thanks,” says Demeter, shivering and pushing her dripping hair off her face. “I suppose. Although did you need to throw it all over me?”

“Health and safety,” he says. “Plus you deserve it. Don’t she, Katie?” He gives me a great big wink, and I glare back, livid.



“Steve, you moron.” I’m almost too angry to speak. “You total moron.”

“Just acting on your behalf,” he says unrepentantly. “She did you a wrong, so. Therefore. Ergo. You don’t mess around with Katie,” he adds ominously to Demeter. “Not unless you don’t want me not to hear about it.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” I say, feeling an urge to hit Steve. “What are you even trying to say?”

“I’m saying it like it is, Katie.” Steve gives me his bulgy-eyed look. “Saying it like it is.”

“You got him to do that to me?” says Demeter in disbelief.

“No!” I say in alarm, but I’m not sure Demeter even hears me. She seems at the end of her tether, unaware of everyone around.

“Haven’t you done enough?” She shakes her head. “Haven’t you punished me enough? What else are you going to do, tie me up and set the dogs on me? I mean, Jesus, Katie. I know I let you go insensitively, I know you think I ruined your life, but it’s what I had to do, OK? It was my job!” She’s practically shouting by now. “I had to let you go. And I know it was difficult, but sometimes you just have to get over things! You have to—”

“Let you go?” Dad interrupts. “What’s she talking about, love?”

I jump like a scalded cat and turn to see Dad peering at Demeter with a bright-eyed, inquiring expression.

“Shit,” says Demeter, and brings a hand to her head. “Katie, I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Does she know you from London?” Dad looks still more puzzled. “Katie, who is this?”



“She works for Cooper Clemmow,” Steve tells him with lugubrious importance. “Googled her, didn’t I? ‘Demeter Farlowe’ she calls herself there. And he works there.” Steve jerks a finger toward Alex, who has been standing on the sidelines. “They’re Katie’s bosses, come down from London. That’s who they are.”

Dad is looking from Demeter to Alex, a muscle working in his jaw.

“Why didn’t you let on who you were?” he says shortly, addressing them both. “What’s the big secret?”

“Well.” Demeter glances at me. “It’s…delicate….”

“Have you come here to fire Katie?” he says, in sudden wrath. “Because that’s not on. That’s not on!” he practically bellows. “She’s been a good employee, has our Katie.” He turns on Alex, who gives a startled jump. “She’s on the computer all the time, taking calls, working all hours…even during her so-called sabbatical….I mean, what kind of bosses are you, anyway? It’s exploitation! That’s what it is!”

“Dad, stop!” I lift up a hand in desperation. “You’ve got it wrong. They haven’t come to fire me. The truth is…” I gulp hard, feeling unsteady on my feet. “I was trying to tell you earlier….”

Tears are edging down my cheeks. I’m aware of all the glampers staring at me in shock, and Demeter standing there, still dripping, and Alex…Alex, gazing at me with the kindest, saddest expression I’ve ever seen….

“Dad, I need to talk to you,” I manage. “You and Biddy. Right now.”

—



The “what” is easy. It’s the “why.”