The Art of Starting Over

Chapter 12 - What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up?

I lift my eyes at him. The question triggers a burst of panic in me and I know he notices. As always, I get the impression that he can see straight through me.

"You're too smart to work in a beauty store for the rest of your life," he presses.

I look back down at my restless hands, fiddling about in my lap and my voice comes out husky and small when I answer. "I don't know."

He inhales deeply and it's like he sucked all the warmth out of the air around us. Jeremy is not an easy man to read but I'm learning.

I know he hates it when he doesn't get what he wants, and I know he wants answers. He wants to know because knowing gives him control. Hiding his own feelings and secrets gives him the upper hand. My answer disappoints him and for some reason, that makes me unhappy.

"I've always wanted to study European Literature," I mumble eventually. The words feel strange as they linger in the air like an echo. Like mentioning a friend after a very, very long time. "My mum used to read the classics to me when I was little. I used to love it. It was what I looked forward to most. Life always seemed so much more exciting in books. I used to dream of having a big library, like the one the Beast gives Belle in The Beauty and the Beast. As I grew up, I thought I'd settle for a small bookstore. I know it's not near as ambitious as your hotel empire, but I just want to be surrounded by books all the time."

His face remains expressionless as he looks straight at me, but he can't quite hide the surprise in his eyes. I feel my cheeks go red.

"I know, it's stupid," I murmur, eyes falling to my lap again.

"Why is it stupid?" he asks in his usual business-like tone.

I look up, half-expecting him to be mocking me. But he's not so I smile shyly at him, knowing he's just being nice.

"What are you going to do about it?" he presses.

"There's not much I can do. I never finished secondary school."

"So? Have you checked with the University? You might need to sit for some tests first but we can look into that. You don't have to go straight to a degree-"

"No, I-"

"What do you mean 'no'? You definitely have the skillset for it. You're always ready to criticise and argue your point till it bleeds. Why not argue Tolstoy's?" I shoot him a warning look but he remains unfazed. "Ally, you're a smart girl. Going to University can open a lot of doors for you. You don't want to be selling makeup for the rest of your life."

I shake my head again. "It's fine. I'm happy."

But even as I say it I can tell he's calling my bluff. He draws another frustrated breath. 

"I'm not saying it will never happen, it's just... I can't do it now, that's all. It wasn't easy to settle down after... after I came here. Millie and I have only just found our feet. I can't uproot everything again."

He looks at me, still unconvinced. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.  I don't have to tell him anything, but for some reason, I tell him everything, just like always.

"My mum was diagnosed with breast cancer when she was thirty-seven. She died two years later. I was sixteen. I couldn't go through with my GCEs." His expression softens slightly as he absorbs this new piece of information. "Everything went downhill after that. She was the only person I had. I didn't really have friends. Dad was always busy with work. And it only got worse when she got sick because he avoided coming home as much as possible. He didn't..."

My voice trails off as I remember the endless nights, crouched on my bedroom floor, listening to my parents argue in the early hours of the morning because he was drunk and angry. "He didn't take it very well. They were really close. My mum was only twenty-one when she met him. He was already a successful lawyer back then. He came to Malta for a conference or something and swept her off her feet. They eloped, moved to London and had me less than a year later."