I felt the sudden threat of tears. ‘Yes,’ I said.
‘We’re strong, you and me,’ Ben said. ‘And Oscar and Stan. This is the right thing for us to do.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘We’re going to be very happy there.’
From then I barely had time to draw breath, which was lucky really. If I’d had time to think about what we were doing I’d have changed my mind, because the truth was I was absolutely terrified about the move.
On paper, the house was perfect and I trusted Ben’s judgement. And it wasn’t as if I hadn’t been involved, I told myself, when all my worries about how I’d not even seen our new home surfaced. I’d spotted it first. I’d seen it on FaceTime and on the estate agent’s website. I’d been part of the decision-making from the start.
So, I concentrated on the fact that we’d found a tenant for our London house with almost indecent haste. I worked out whether our battered sofa would fit in the new lounge, and if the boys would need new beds, and I dreamed of having my own study, a haven, tucked away in the attic room.
The one fly in the ointment was Dad. I had to tell him we were moving of course. So one day, a week or so before we finally went and just before I finished work, I took a half-day and drove down to Kent to see him and my step-mum, Barb.
‘I thought we could go for a late lunch at the pub,’ I said when I arrived, thinking that if I told Dad the news in public, it might go better. I breathed a sigh of relief when Barb and Dad agreed, so we all strolled along the road towards their local. Truth be told, I had no idea how Dad would react because I’d never done anything he didn’t agree with before.
‘He might be fine,’ Ben had said. ‘I think you’re overthinking this. He just wants you to be happy.’
But I wasn’t sure. I was scared my whole relationship with my dad was conditional on me doing what he wanted me to do. I knew he would be nervous about the risk we were taking, and he’d expect me to listen to his concerns, and then announce he was right and change my mind. But I wasn’t going to do that this time – and that’s why I was so worried.
I’d grown up, with Dad, in Tunbridge Wells. Dad didn’t live in the same house any more because he and Barb – who I loved to bits – had moved when they got married, soon after I started university. It wasn’t far from where we’d lived when I was a kid, but far enough, if you see what I mean.
‘So how’s Ben’s job going?’ Dad asked, as we settled down at our table.
‘Good,’ I said. ‘Really good.’
‘Dreadful commute,’ Dad said.
‘Awful,’ I agreed. ‘And that’s why we’ve made a decision.’
Dad and Barb looked at me as I took a breath and explained what we were doing.
‘It’s a lovely house,’ I said. ‘And we’re just renting, though Ben says the landlord mentioned he’d be willing to sell if we like it.’
Barb smiled at me.
‘It sounds wonderful,’ she said. ‘But won’t it mean you commuting instead?’
There was a pause.
‘Well,’ I said. ‘Actually.’
Dad took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose and I felt my confidence beginning to desert me.
‘Actually?’ he prompted.
‘Actually, I’ve handed in my notice,’ I said. I picked up my sparkling water and swigged it, wishing it was gin.
Barb and Dad looked at each other.
‘That’s a big decision,’ Barb said carefully.
‘It is,’ I said. ‘But we’re confident it’s the right thing to do. Ben’s salary is good enough for us to live on, and I’ve got my writing.’
Dad nodded as though he’d reached a decision. ‘You’d be best taking a sabbatical,’ he said. ‘What did they say when you asked about that? If they said no, you’ve probably got cause to get them to reconsider. I can speak to Pete at my old firm, if you like? He’s the expert on employment law …’
‘Dad,’ I said. ‘I didn’t ask about a sabbatical, because I don’t want to take a sabbatical. I’m leaving my job and I’m going to write full-time. It’s all planned.’
Dad looked at me for a moment. ‘No, Ella,’ he said. ‘It’s too risky. What if Ben’s job doesn’t work out? Or the boys don’t settle? Have you checked out the school for Oscar? He’s a bright little lad and he needs proper stimulation. And don’t even think about selling your house in London. Once you leave London you can never go back, you know. Not with house prices the way they are.’
‘Dad,’ I said again. ‘It’s fine. We know what we’re doing.’
‘I’ll phone Pete, now,’ Dad said. ‘Now where did I put that blasted mobile phone?’
‘Dad,’ I said, sharply this time. ‘Stop it.’
Dad winced. ‘Keep your voice down, Ella,’ he said. ‘What’s wrong?’
I shook my head. ‘I knew this is how you’d act,’ I said. ‘I knew you wouldn’t want me to give up work, or for us to move house.’
‘I just worry,’ Dad said.
I felt a glimmer of sympathy for him. Of course he worried. But I wasn’t his little girl any more and we didn’t have to cling to each other like we were drowning, like we’d done when I was growing up.
‘Don’t,’ I said, more harshly than I’d intended. ‘Don’t worry. I’m fine. Ben’s fine. The boys are fine.’
Barb put her hand over Dad’s as though urging him to leave things there, but Dad being Dad didn’t get the message.
‘I think I should phone Pete,’ he said. ‘Just in case.’
I pushed my chair back from the table and stood up. ‘Do not pick up your phone,’ I said. ‘Don’t you dare.’
Dad and Barb both looked stunned, which wasn’t surprising. I’d never raised my voice to Dad before. I’d never even disagreed with his choice of takeaway on movie night.
‘Ella,’ Dad said. ‘I think you’re over-reacting a bit.’
But that made me even more determined to put my point across.
‘I’m not over-reacting,’ I said. ‘I want you to understand what’s happening here. I’m leaving my job, and we are moving to Sussex. Which, by the way, means we will be nearer to you than we are now. I thought you’d be pleased about that.’
My voice was getting shriller and I felt close to tears, but as Dad stared at me, shocked into silence, I continued. ‘I know it’s risky, but we have decided it’s a risk worth taking. Because, Dad, you know better than anyone that things can go wrong in the blink of an eye. You know that.’
Dad nodded, still saying nothing.
‘So it’s happening. And I knew you wouldn’t approve. And I’m sorry if this makes me difficult. Or if me doing something that you don’t like means you don’t want me in your life any more. But it’s happening.’
‘Ella …’ Dad began. ‘Ella, I don’t understand.’
‘Oh you understand,’ I said, all my worries about the move and about telling him spilling