Page 22 of Pure Recklessness

‘It’s not illegal, is it?’ Dad said quickly. ‘You have to be so careful in London. Jobs there are linked to unscrupulous activities. Mrs Morris from the florist’s was telling me that her son’s best friend’s aunt knew a woman whose husband got a job in London and it turned out to be a front for drug dealers!’

‘No!’ Mum gasped.

‘I swear on Granny Julia’s life, God rest her soul. He was a perfectly respectable young man. Then boom! Two months in London and he ended up becoming a drug dealer. I’m telling you. These big cities just aren’t safe!’

This was the kind of stereotypical, scaremongering horror stories I’d had to listen to for years.

I’d been home-schooled from the age of nine until I was eighteen. I’d had to beg to go to university, rather than studying online and even then my parents only agreed on the condition that they drove me there and back.

I’d wanted to come to London for as long as I could remember. As soon as I graduated, that was the plan. But unsurprisingly, my parents refused.

For years I begged them. And for years, they filled my head with these stories, until a few months ago I decided that enough was enough.

I couldn’t wait for their permission. And as an adult, I didn’t have to.

I told them I was going and that nothing would change my mind.

Dad didn’t speak to me for a week.

If Mum hadn’t talked him round, he’d probably still be sulking now.

‘It’s a perfectly legitimate company,’ I said.

‘What do they sell then?’ Dad pressed.

‘Er, gadgets,’ I replied quickly.

Sex toys could be considered as gadgets, right? I saw a remote-controlled vibrator laying around in the press office earlier, so that definitely fit the description.

‘Ugh,’ Dad sighed. ‘Technology. The cause of the world’s problems. And everyone is obsessed with TikBot.’

‘It’s TikTok,’ I corrected, fighting the urge to chuckle. I wasn’t exactly an online whizz myself.

I knew Dad had zero interest in gadgets so wouldn’t ask questions.

I was off the hook.

Phew.

‘Sounds lovely, dear,’ Mum said encouragingly.

‘I saw young Jarvis today,’ Dad added and my stomach sank. ‘Told him he needs to make an honest woman of you. You’ve had your fun. It’s time to come back to the village and settle down.’

My stomach twisted.

Not this again.

For as long as I could remember, Dad had pushed for me and Jarvis to get hitched. Jarvis was lovely, but I wasn’t ready.

I wanted to go to London. Jarvis didn’t. Which was why we broke up.

At first, I was upset. We were together for over three years. I even considered trying the long-distance thing. But then I realised going our separate ways was for the best. I needed to focus on building my career and didn’t want Jarvis or any other man distracting me.

There’d be time for boyfriends in a few years once I’d established my career and travelled a bit more.

‘Ooh, just imagine, a wedding! You’d make such a beautiful bride. Jarvis is such a lovely boy.’

‘Yes,’ Dad agreed. ‘You have to be careful, darling. The men in London are predators. Sinful creatures. Only interested in one thing. They don’t understand that kind of intimacy is best reserved for marriage. But Jarvis is one of the few good ones. Respectful. He wants to do right by you.’