The Dilemma(7)

Most of the wood in my shed has already been commissioned – the biggest piece, a beautiful block of burnished oak, will eventually be a table for a rich banker in Knightsbridge – but the black walnut, my favourite, is reserved for Marnie. I’m going to make a sculpture for her twentieth birthday in July.

I had zero expectations before she was born. Josh’s arrival three years earlier had been so bewildering that I still hadn’t adapted to being a dad. But the minute I laid eyes on Marnie, I was besotted. If Josh’s arrival brought out the worst in me, Marnie’s brought out the best. She taught me how to be a father, simply by being.

When she got older, we became close in a way I wasn’t sure I’d ever be with Josh. After school, she’d come and find me in the shed and sit in one of the armchairs, chatting about her day as I worked. I got my first motorbike when she was twelve, and she loved it as much as I did. Livia had always insisted that the children walk the twenty minutes to school, but as Marnie got older, she began to take her time getting ready in the mornings, then ask me to take her on my bike, insisting she’d be late otherwise.

‘And there’s nothing cooler than arriving on a Triumph Bonneville T120,’ she’d whisper, once Livia was out of earshot.

Livia disapproved of me indulging her. I’d have done the same for Josh, if he’d asked, but he preferred to get a detention for being late rather than ask me for a lift. Later, when Marnie began going to parties, I’d take and fetch her on my bike. She never worried about her hair getting crushed under a helmet, or her dress crushed by the leathers I insisted on her wearing. I was proud that she shared my love of bikes. Stupidly, I never thought that one day, she’d want one of her own.

‘I’ve decided,’ she announced to me and Liv only a month ago, during one of our FaceTime chats. She was sitting on her bed, her phone balanced between her knees. On the wall behind her, along with a KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON poster, she’d stuck photos of me, Livia and Josh, and her friends from home. There was also a group shot of her and Cleo, with me and Rob – Cleo’s dad – standing behind them. We’d taken them to a pizza place in Windsor not long after they’d finished their exams, I remembered.

‘I’m not going travelling when I finish here in June,’ Marnie continued. ‘I’m going to come straight home instead.’

‘What? Why the rush?’ Liv said before I could reply. She sounded sharper with Marnie than she’d been for years and I knew she was worried that Marnie was feeling homesick again.

‘Because I want to be able to do the Long Walk on my birthday.’

Neither of us knew what to say. The Long Walk in Windsor Great Park was something we’d done with Marnie on her birthday for the last ten years, but only because she’d been around. To give up her chance to go travelling just to come home and do a walk she could do anytime, given that we lived nearby, was worrying. And then, unable to keep up the pretence, she burst out laughing.

‘I’m joking!’ she said. ‘I’m coming home to study for my motorbike licence.’

‘Right,’ I said, relieved. ‘But there’s no rush, is there?’

‘Yes, because I want to get a motorbike.’

‘You won’t be able to afford one for years,’ Liv pointed out. ‘Isn’t it better to go travelling? You might never get the chance to visit Vietnam and Cambodia again.’

‘Mum,’ Marnie said patiently. ‘I will – by motorbike!’

Nothing we said would change her mind. I wasn’t as concerned as Liv. I missed Marnie and liked the idea of her being home sooner than we thought. I also liked her determination to do what she wanted. Like last year, when we tried to persuade her not to get a motorbike tattooed across her back, from shoulder to shoulder.

‘So, do you want to see it?’ she asked on a weekend home from university. ‘My tattoo?’

‘You didn’t,’ I said, slightly appalled that she’d gone ahead.

‘I did. But don’t worry, you’re going to like it.’

‘I’m not sure I will,’ I warned.

‘I’d like to see it,’ Livia said, even though I knew she hated the thought of Marnie with a huge tattoo.

Laughing, Marnie peeled off her jumper and held out her arm. ‘I chickened out,’ she said. ‘I thought this was more appropriate.’

Livia nodded approvingly. ‘Definitely.’

‘What do you think, Dad?’

I looked at the words tattooed the length of her forearm in beautiful italic script: An angel walking to the Devil’s beat.

‘Interesting,’ I said, breathing a sigh of relief that it was relatively small.

The tattoo had given me the idea for her sculpture. I’m going to carve an angel, not a traditional one, but an angel wearing leathers and riding a motorbike. I’d like to make a start on it now but I should really go and see Liv before she leaves, offer to help Josh with the balloons and decorations he’s brought. And find another box, maybe in the attic. The plan is that Marnie will text me a couple of minutes before she arrives at the house, I’ll take the box out from under the table and push it to the middle of the terrace. She’ll slip in through the side gate and climb inside, hopefully without anyone seeing. Once I’ve placed the lid back on top, I’ll call everyone onto the terrace to see Liv opening her present.