Geli Voyante's Hot or Not (27 page)

Funnily enough, the last
time I saw Dad face-to-face was the day I went from blonde to brunette. It’s like the past seven years have been erased with this change. Maybe I can pretend they never happened, especially the kiss. I survived Theo’s questions about whether I had a nice time getting to know Calvin last week, though I’m still not sure why Theo and Tiggy had such a big emergency at work because I was never sent any e-mails about a crisis. Strange...

I should do it now,
I should end things before we go to Durban, and I’m secretly hoping that Calvin
will
break up with Tiggy. If they don’t and Theo
is
in Durban with me, what sort of message does that send out? Calvin is going to think that I’m some skank who will happily make out with my stepsister’s fiancé, despite having a boyfriend myself. I need to end things now.  

‘
Theo,’ I say.

‘
Yes,’ he replies sleepily.

I can
’t do it.

‘
Nothing,’ I reply. ‘Let’s go to sleep.’

Window seats, by the wing, are where it
’s at. Firstly, because I can see them putting the luggage in; secondly, because if something happens to that wing, then I’d like to have a moment to reflect and prepare for death. Call it a comfort thing, but it’s how I approach flying.

I
t has disturbed me to discover my seat choice has been altered due to my father upgrading me. Yes, it is obviously more comfortable to fly long-haul first class, but he has clearly forgotten another flying rule of mine:
I do not sleep on planes
. This is wasted on me, not only for sleeping, but because I do not want unlimited champagne at my disposal. I am flying from the UK to South Africa, from freezing conditions to the height of summer. My skin will suffer from this, then add in the recycled plane air... with lashings of dehydrating champagne? What is the airline thinking? Irresponsible thoughts, that’s what.

No, I’m not in the
best
of moods.

‘Angelica, don’t be awkward,’
he
says as I refuse a glass of champagne for the third time.

He’s probably shooting a look at me, but I don’t see it as my eyes are firmly closed. If I can’t keep an eye on the wing, I don’t want to look at anything.
Especially
.
Not.
Him
.    

‘
I don’t want any,’ I hiss.

If I too
k a flute, I would throw it over him. It’s for the best it’s kept away from me. I don’t think the passengers on this flight to Johannesburg will be pleased if we have to land in Portugal because I get arrested for air-rage.

‘Not a problem,’ I hear the flight attendant charmingly
say before moving on to her next guest.

‘Just because you’re angry with me
, young lady, it doesn’t give you the right to be rude to people who are trying to do their job,’ he chastises me.

I crank open a
n eye at that, just one – a useful skill. ‘It’s her job to
offer
,’ I sanctimoniously answer. ‘It’s my right to say no.’ I look across at the pretty, young flight attendant who has turned around at my outburst. ‘Unlike some people, I am capable of saying
no
to other women.’

I close my eyes, pleased to note my words have hit home to him – his broken, first marital home to be precise. Maybe now he’ll get the hint and leave me alone for the rest of this flight. His pod thing isn’t near mine, thank goodness, so at least it means he won’t spend the e
ntire flight hovering near mine… I hope. It wouldn’t surprise me if he remains hovering to piss me off, but I am my father’s daughter. He’s met his match, flat deposit or no flat deposit.

‘Angelica
… Geli,’ he softly pleads as I try to ignore him. ‘These things happen. People fall in and out of love all the time, but not with their children. I’ve never stopped loving you whilst I’ve been with Ursula. Can’t you see that?’

‘But I’m acting like one?’ I ask through gritted teeth.

‘Look, I know it can’t be easy given how you and Tiggy no longer get on, but I’m with Ursula because of Ursula. I didn’t choose Tiggy over you.
You’re
my daughter, not her.’

‘Yet you let her manipulate you into Ursula’s bed,’ I snap, opening
both eyes merely to glare at him. Evidently he thinks I am still a naïve child. Does he think I was born yesterday?

We had to flee Durban to escape this
man’s womanising, selfish ways – ways that were encouraged and master-minded by Tiggy Boodles. It was too painful for Mum to remain because of what he did and, to be perfectly honest, I don’t think she has ever fully-recovered from the divorce. She really loved him; she took her marriage vows seriously. What he did, and who he did it with, was the ultimate betrayal. I don’t know how she still speaks to him.

‘Geli,’ he says pleadingly.

Where’s the “please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelt because we’re experiencing some slight turbulence” announcement when you need it?

I can see a look in his eye
,
that
look. If it’s remaining when the trolley dolly passes, no doubt she will smother him with her sympathy. My father evokes that sort of response from women because of his refined exterior.

I may detest
him, but he does have that dapper City gentleman look going on which will score me no favours on this Barbie express. I’ve no idea why he’s flying in his dark grey wool suit, but even I can admit he looks a handsome bugger in it. His hair is salt and pepper now, which unfairly makes his baby blue eyes sparkle – that or he’s a little bit merry from the champagne.

M
um, on the other hand, is a full-blown country mumsy-mum. Long flowing skirts, blouses and wellies – she’s all natural with her cropped silvery blonde hair, rosy cheeks and freckles. I guess she can’t have always been like that for them to have got together, but for all my life she’s been nothing but a dedicated mum and
wife
. My father did not deserve her; he doesn’t deserve my forgiveness now. No deposit on a flat is worth this. Tiggy can have the money.

‘Fuck off,’ I levelly tell him.

That. Felt. AWESOME. I should have said that to him a long time ago, the healing powers of swearing. Maybe I’ll write a self-help book about it, maybe that could be my new career direction on my return from Durban. I’m certainly tragic enough:
Geli Voyante, Self-help Guru.

My father
’s face has turned purple-red in anger. He should be careful with his blood pressure at his age.

‘Angelica Dawn Voyante,’ he screeches at me, standing up to his full six feet three inches
in height – it’s quite scary seeing as I’m sprawled out in my pod bed. ‘How
dare
you? How dare you speak to me like that? I’m your father, young lady,’ he bellows at me. ‘Your
father
. Show some respect.’  

‘Sir, sir,’ the flight attendant is saying to him, as I close my eyes and ignore the sight of the crazy man looming over
me and yelling.

I am on a tropical island; I am on a beach. All I can hear is the sound of gently lapping waves. I hear nothing but waves.

‘… seeing as your precious mother was seeing John.’

Wai
t? What? Back to this tube of metal. I open my eyes. All surrounding eyes are on this scene; my father is surrounded by a gaggle of flight attendants trying to get him to sit down. I wonder, if I hiss will they disperse? Not that that’s important right now.

‘Excuse me,’ I
demand. ‘What was that ridiculous slur?’

‘All I’m saying is
, maybe your mother pushed me to Ursula,’ he replies darkly, and with that ominous announcement, he lets the gaggle lead him back to his pod.

John?
Is that despicable man trying to say my mother –
my lovely mother who was the victim of his affair with Ursula
– had a thing with Uncle John first? Uncle John, husband of Ursula, father of Tiggy?
That
Uncle John?

Low. That’s low. Clearly he’s been hanging around the Boodles for far too long judging by the dirty underhand tricks they’ve
taught him. It’s about time I put a stop to this, once he’s calmed down. If I can tell Theo that I love him and not mean it – I don’t even want to think of that hideous error – then I suppose I can forgive my father…

‘Can Mr R. Voyante and Miss A.D. Voyante please make their way
immediately
to Gate 12B please?’

We ignore it though. There are other connecting flights from Johannesburg to Durban, but I think we only have one chance right now to mend this bridge between us.

We’re in the departure lounge, sat next to one another on the hard, green plastic chairs. It looks sweltering outside – I can see the shimmer of heat bouncing off the planes, but inside it’s chilled ice cold and that’s not from the air conditioning.

‘Did my mother really have an affair with Uncle John?’ I finally ask.

‘Yes… no, I don’t know, Geli.’ He sounds confused.

‘Where did you get that crazy idea from?’ I ask, but I already know the answer.
I see now the full extent of how Tiggy got my father into her mother’s arms.
My poor mother.
My poor father, too, if my suspicions are true.

He doesn’t answer.

‘It was Tiggy, wasn’t it?’
I press on. ‘She hinted at it and that’s why you went round to
comfort
Ursula. You thought you both needed it.’

He still doesn’t answer me, but
I know I’m right. I hope he realises I am too.

‘My mother loves you,’ I tell him gently. ‘She would never have done anything to hurt you
, you know that.’

Silence.

‘I know that now,’ he finally chooses to reply, not daring to look at me. ‘I can’t say I’m proud of leaving my wife and family, but at the time I thought I was doing the right thing,’ he feebly explains. ‘You do understand, don’t you?’

I think about it and
I actually do. How he chose Ursula is how I chose Theo – I thought he was right for me at the time, but time seems to have proved me wrong and now I feel trapped in the situation I thought I wanted. I’m still going along with it hoping I could be wrong, but deep down...

‘I do,’ I say. ‘A
nd I’m sorry for swearing at you.’

He laughs. ‘To be honest, I deserved it. I see how you, more than Claire, suffered from my marriage to Ursula and I’m sorry for that.’

‘It’s fine,’ I say
, and it is.

I’m nearly twenty-five,
it’s time to be a grown-up. So what if my parents got divorced and my dad got hood-winked into marrying the devil’s mother? It happens. Look at Snow White.

I guess I
’m finally realising that my parents’ lives are their own. The only person I can control is me, so it’s time I stopped being a child and made a grown-up life of my own. I may be going back to my childhood home, but I’m going to return there as a grown-up.

‘Let’s put it be
hind us,’ I say, surprising myself that I’m not gunning for a fight, for more histrionics, but I’m tired of pretending.

I can
’t deal with Theo yet, but I can deal with Dad. Maybe I can even make amends with Tiggy? Not about kissing Calvin – I would never lord that over her, it would be unfair – but I can be nice to her, stop our stupid childish spats.

‘Forgive and forget?’ he asks.

‘Forgive and forget,’ I echo.

T
he tannoy calls again. “This is the final boarding call for Mr R. Voyante and Miss A.D. Voyante. Can you
please
make your way
immediately
to Gate 12B?”

‘Let’s go home,’ I say
.