Well, love, this is now your room. Make yourself at home, says James, stepping back.
Emily takes a few tentative steps. The bed is draped in an absurdly fluffy cover, a desk holds a laptop, a wardrobe with mirrored doors stands beside a rectangular rug with a geometric pattern. Everything is sleek, pricey, and nothing like the cramped space she left behind.
James drums two large suitcases filled with Emilys things into the corner by the wardrobe. Youll sort it yourself? he asks. Of course shell managedoes he really think shell ask for help?
Claire, the new stepmother, appears with a longleafed plant, placing it on the windowsill. I thought it would look nice here, she says with a bright smile, fixing her gaze on Emily, who stands silent and gloomy.
Lets go, James, Emily says, laying a hand on his shoulder and guiding him toward the door. Settle in, she whispers as she gently shuts it behind her.
Emily repeats the phrase in her head, a bitter echo. She feels a wave of melancholy and unease, collapses onto the bed, turns her back to the wall, curls into a ball, knees drawn to her chest, and closes her eyes.
Mumwhy? We were always together, and now youve left me. Why didnt you go to the hospital? Didnt you think of me? Why does it have to end like this? she mutters.
For ten years Emily has been her mothers girl. Since her father left, she barely sees or talks to him. Evenings with Mom, the television, the warm scent of homemade scones and a pot of tea live only in memory now. She is forced to live with strangers. James never calls her by name, only daughter, and the word dad feels awkward on her tongue. She drifts to thoughts of James and his new wife.
She had imagined that a wealthy divorcee would marry a runway model with perfect lips, not a woman like Claireyoung, short, sporting a bob, running a modest legal practice. Claire is sharp, businesslike, not the nurturing mother Emily remembers. The house once smelled of roast and fresh pies; now Claire orders takeaway most nights.
Did she do the decorating? Emily wonders. Probably, not James. She does have a decent taste. She runs a hand over the soft, longpile blanketsomething she never owned before.
At her new school, Emily quickly makes friends. They accept her, drawn by her fathers money and her striking looks. The girls decide its easier to be friends than rivals. Before, she only chatted with a few classmates, her mother being her closest confidante. Now the new crowd likes her, understands her, and she feels needed. For the first time, boys show interest, sending her into a secret thrill.
At first she suffers from the circumstances. The class labels her a halforphan forced to live with an unwanted dad and a cold stepmother. Emily likes that role and clings to it, playing it deliberately.
She overhears a classmate telling a group of boys, Why is she always talking about her stepmother? My mums friend works for her and says shes a normal aunt.
When Emily finally comes home very late, James says, I know you want to spend time with your friends, thats why I didnt call. But Id like you not to stay out so late. Deal? She says nothing and retreats to her room.
The next weekend they plan to go out. Emily turns her phone off. At home James waits, his expression foreboding. If this happens again, Ill have to act, he warns.
Emily shoots him a quick angry glance and strides into her room. Claire sits on the bed; she jumps up the moment Emily appears. I wanted to talk, Claire says. Emily remains silent, her body saying, What more do you want? Claire stumbles, flustered.
James worries about you, Claire says. Emily snaps, Im almost sixteen! She starts coming home on time, not to anger James. She plots a sweet sixteen celebration with friends. The older brother of a mate, Max, promises an apartment for the party. Shes dating a boy she likes, hoping for a quiet evening together.
Later James announces, Emily, Claire booked a table for tomorrow. Well mark your birthday. You can invite your friends.
What? A restaurant, with you? I was planning to party with my friends! Emily protests.
When were you supposed to tell us? James asks.
I dont knowmaybe tomorrow, she replies.
So on the day itself. Fine, if you want friends, you can have it at our house. Claire will sort the food.
Emily feels a chill of dread. Everything is already arranged. Maxs flat will supply the drinks. Everyone expects a lively night. She fears the plan will be a boring family affair, that theyll all laugh at her. She dashes off to school, determined to think of something.
In the hallway a harsh light floods the space. An angry James stands before Emily. What do you think youre doing?! He steps closer, catching the scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke on her. What do you think youre doing, I ask! He raises his hand as if to strike her. James!
Behind him Claire appears. Emily looks up, seeing Claires terrified eyes and smudged mascara from recent tears. Claire gently pushes James aside, takes Emilys shoulders, and guides her to the bedroom. Quickly, tell medid anyone hurt you? Did something bad happen? Emily shakes her head. No, its fine.
Ill speak to James. How can I help? Claire asks. Bring me a drink, Emily says. Claire tells James, Shes alright, while he watches nervously from the doorway.
When Claire returns, Emily, still in her nightclothes, is fast asleep. James shouts, She smelled of alcohol! Did you notice? Claire replies, Of course. Imagine being sixteen. James grumbles, And what? Shes just a girl! Claire calms him, Think of your peersEmily isnt foolish, but her friends now mean more to her than we do. Give her time. Her life changed in an instant; maybe thats why she copes.
James snaps, She has everythingfood, clothes. Ill grant any whim!
Claire retorts, James, stop acting foolish! She lost her mother. What she needs now is love and attention, which she finds with her friends. Something happened todaymaybe a fight?
James sighs, I didnt expect it to be this hard.
Claire smiles, hugs him, and kisses his forehead. Dont worry. Well get through this together.
The next morning Claire enters Emilys room. Shes awake, eyes wide. How are you feeling? Head hurting? Claire draws back the curtains and hands her a glass of water. Emily sits up, drinks greedily.
Why did you stand up for me yesterday? Claire asks.
Because I was sixteen too, Claire shrugs. Happy birthday, by the way. Emily stays silent.
Do you hate me? Claire probes.
Because of you, James left, Emily replies.
You know thats not true. We met a year after your mum left, Claire says.
Exactly! What if he came back? Emily sighs.
Claire nods, Its not that simple. Often people cant reunite after a split.
Why? Whats the barrier? People like you? My mum was wonderful! Emily snaps.
Your mum was amazing, Claire agrees, reaching for Emilys hand. Emily pulls away. Adult relationships have problems. Some can be solved, some cant, and then they end. Its better than endless suffering. No single guilty party.
And me? What am I guilty of? He didnt care about me!
That isnt true. James did everything so you wouldnt need anything. He keptHe kept watching her from a distance, hoping she would eventually feel safe enough to let him back into her life.
