.
Three months; thatâs how long Dad had been seeing her before he decided he really, really liked her and should really, really tell us that she existed (and wasnât a bloke called Don).
He thought we might flip out at him when he made his announcement, and was completely surprised and blown away when Clem and me started shrieking and clapping our hands together like overexcited seals.
She apparently has curly auburn hair, is very nice, and works in a doctorâs surgery as a medical receptionist.
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âHey, donât be late â youâve got school tomorrow!â I joke at the last minute, but Dad doesnât hear me â heâs in the car with the window up â and the radio on, I bet.
Then â just before he drives off â he stops and rubs his face with both hands.
Thatâs oddâ¦
âClem?â I say, going back into the house.
âMmm?â she mumbles, sounding as uninterested as possible.
âYou know that thing Dad does? When heâs stressing?â
What Iâve just said makes her look up straightaway.
âWhat â the manic face-washing thing?â she asks.
âYeah. He was doing it just now, in the car. He didnât know I was watching.â
âWonder what thatâs all about?â says Clem, leaning back in her chair and tucking her dark hair behind her ears.
âCanât be his job â he loves it,â I reply. Itâs only Wednesday and heâs already saying itâs the best job heâs ever had, with the staff and the students being so friendly.
âAnd itâs not this dump,â says Clem, wafting a hand around to indicate the cottage, âsince he finds the place âcharmingâ for some unknown reason.â
âWe were talking about meeting Donna just before he leftâ¦â I point out, wandering if itâs relevant.
Clem now rattles the top of her pencil between her teeth, like itâll help her think better.
âHe knows I wouldnât be rude to her, right?â she finally says.
Wow. Is that almost an admission of guilt from my sister? I wasnât sure she was even aware how rude she is on a daily basis to me and Dadâ¦
âHe knows,â I reassure her. âWe wouldnât be joking around with him if we felt weird about Donna, would we?â
I suddenly realize how nice it feels to say âweâ. There hasnât been a lot of âweâ about me and Clem for years, and I miss it. Our only âweâ times happen when we join together to tease Dad about his love life.
âYeah, youâre right,â Clem says with a nod. (Now thatâs a phrase I donât hear from her very often, or ever .)
âMaybe heâs just a bit tired,â I suggest, pulling out a seat at the table and joining her, since it seems sheâs not going to growl at me to get out of her space.
âOr maybe things are rocky with him and Donna,â says Clem.
âNo!â I yelp. âDonât say that!â
Clem bursts out laughing at my shock and outrage. âWhy do you sound so upset, Maisie? We donât even know the woman.â
I blink for a second and try to figure out why Iâm suddenly so disappointed at the idea of Dad and the mysterious Donna splitting up.
I guess part of it is that Iâve been excited for ages about the idea of meeting this person whoâs made Dad so happy (Iâve seen those smiles when her texts ping through).
And part of it is because Mum would be very, very proud of me and Clem managing to Please stay open-minded if Dad meets someone new⦠(Written halfway through the notebook, with a smiley face drawn beside it.)
âI just want Dad to be OK,â I say, feeling the telltale prickle of tears threaten. Thereâve been plenty of times that my heartâs lurched at the thought of me and Clem leaving home for uni or whatever, and leaving him on his own. I canât stand it, and
Learning to Kill: Stories