“Yes. I’d pay for all your fees. You’d go and stay there during term time, and come home for the holidays. The thing is, your future is up to you. If you work hard, they’ll help you get qualified in something that interests you, and help you get a job. I was thinking maybe as a mechanic?”
He blinks. “Do you think I could do it?”
“Of course.” He’s not an academic, but he’s smart, and he’s always enjoyed tinkering with cars and bikes. “Greenfield runs an apprenticeship program, and they teach automotive in Year Twelve, so it’s not as if you’re behind—you’d be going straight in. It’ll take time to get qualified, but if you can prove to Ellie’s parents that you’re working hard and that you want to get a job and provide for her, maybe they’ll change their opinion and let you see her.”
It’s a long shot, but it’s possible. The thing is, while he’s away he’ll meet lots of other people and probably find a new girl. And if he doesn’t—if he does continue to harbor feelings for Ellie—it will help him to prove that he’s willing to change for her.
He gets up and throws his arms around me again. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you for understanding, and for everything.”
“It’s okay,” I say gruffly. “I’m so sorry I missed your call last night—I was on the plane back from Sydney, and when I got home it was one a.m. and I thought it was too late to call you back. I should have, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m always here for you. Remember that.” My throat tightens even more at the thought that I might have been too late. “Come and find me if you ever feel bad again. Don’t do anything without speaking to me first. I couldn’t bear it if I lost you.”
His arms tighten, and we sit like that for a long time, while the rainclouds clear, and the summer sun shines once again.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Juliette
“Pregnant?” My father stares at me, joy lighting his eyes. “Meri pyaari beti, that is wonderful news!” It means ‘my lovely daughter’ in Hindi. He comes forward to give me a hug.
Over his shoulder, I catch my mother’s eye. “Is it Cam’s?” she mouths. I blush and nod, and her brow furrows. “Krish,” she says to my father. “Tone it down. We have to talk.”
Dad steps back and looks at her, then at me. “What’s going on?” He still has an Indian accent, although his speech contains many Kiwi and Maori phrases now.
“Sit down, Dad,” I say, and we take our seats again.
We’re in their home, in the affluent suburb of Merivale, overlooking the Avon river. I grew up in this house, and my bedroom here still bears some of my childhood things—several stuffed bears, a lamp with Cinderella dancing with the prince around the base, even some drawings I did as a girl. The tug of the past is comfortingly familiar, but also a reminder of the principles instilled in me as a girl that are giving me such grief now.
I don’t know why I came here. I wasn’t planning on telling them about the baby. But I spent all yesterday afternoon and all morning walking and thinking, and I still haven’t come to any conclusion, and I just need to talk to someone.
Sure enough, when Mum says, “She’s not happy with Cam,” my father’s expression darkens.
“What do you mean, not happy?”
“We’ve been growing apart for a while,” I tell him. “I was on the verge of breaking up with him, and then it was Christmas, so I thought I’d wait until the New Year, and then his brother had a heart attack, and his mother was sick, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it to him.”
“Sounds like excuses to me,” he says. “If you wanted to leave him, you should have been honest with him and got it over with.”
“It’s not as easy as that,” I say, blushing again, because I know he’s right, and I’m ashamed of myself for dragging it out.
“She’s fallen in love with someone else,” Mum tells him.
His eyes widen. “Who?”
I close my eyes. I didn’t know Mum was going to mention him. “Henry.”
“Henry West?” he says, astonished.
“Yes.”
There’s a brief silence. “Have you been unfaithful to Cam?” he whispers. I put my face in my hands, and it’s answer enough, because he gives a big sigh. “Juliette,” he says sadly.
I begin to cry. There’s nothing like a dressing down from your parents when you’re an adult to make you feel two inches tall.
“Krish,” Mum scolds, “come on, give her a break. It wasn’t quite like that. She thought it was over with Cam.” She gets up, comes to sit next to me on the sofa, and gives me a hug. “Taku aroha, come on, everything’s going to be okay.”