“My turn to express sympathies. We’re very alike. Did you go to boarding school too then?” she sniggered.
“Yes,” he laughed. “When my dad was stationed abroad. I was sent to an army school. I loved it. All routine and regimens, it suited me, kept me on the straight and narrow. I joined the army cadets.”
“But not the army?”
“No,” said Rick, showing a disgruntled face in the mirror. “Asthmatic.”
“Oh, that is why you ban smoking in the car.” Leah had seen him point at the little ‘no smoking’ sign every time somebody attempted to light up a cigarette. Leah didn’t smoke. She thought of her own school days. “I went to boarding school. Hated it. Not very good at toeing the line and I felt abandoned by my parents.”
“My dad loves me a lot, but he is busy working for the MOD in London.”
“We’re both kind of neglected.”
“Your father is very protective of you; you know that, don’t you?”
Leah sighed. “I just wish he would show it. I want to live on my own. I’ve been with people all my life, but never by choice.”
“Tell him that. Why not suggest a trial period? I will continue to pick you up and ferry you around. That way he will know I am keeping an eye on you.”
Leah took away his suggestion and worked on implementing it. She flattered her father, ki
ssed his cheek at breakfast, and told him how much she would miss him, but she needed to start to look after herself. Cook, clean, and study, and not be kept like a bird in a cage. Her father listened to her polite tone and succumbed to Leah’s fluttering lashes. A small flat was found and Leah moved out.
* * *
Leah was late again. It was the third time that week. Rick scowled, sitting in the driver’s seat waiting, his patience wearing thin. The good start to the term had ended quickly, and old habits had returned, including late nights out at clubs and parties. Now, she missed the early lectures, too tired and lazy to get out of bed and no housekeeper or maid to wake her from her stupor. Rick had come to realise how spoilt Leah had been at her father’s mansion.
Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he looked at his wristwatch. Ten o’clock on a Friday morning and she was about to miss yet another tutorial. Her personal tutor had warned her that she was likely to fail the end-of-term examinations in December. They were supposed to test her ability to succeed at the degree course. If she failed, they would recommend she drop out.
Only in the last few days had she shown any signs of attempting to study properly. She was drunk each night, unable to write her assignments, the days slipped away, and the tutors were beginning to give up hope.
She had wailed about it in the back of the car to Rick, but seemed unprepared to step up and put things right. Why it was so hard to have some kind of discipline in life was beyond him. He had his own friends and those evenings he spent with them, when not required to drive her about, he had fun, but never was late for work the next morning.
One last glance at his watch and Rick made a decision. Locking the car behind him, he stormed up the stairs to her first-floor flat and knocked loudly on the front door.
It wasn’t until the third round of knocking that Leah opened the door to him. Dressed in a flimsy blue nightie, which came to above her knees, bleary-eyed and a mug of coffee in her hand, she peered at him with a surprised expression.
“What… Why are you here?” she asked, stepping back.
Rick entered the sitting area of her flat and looked about. The place was a tip. Glasses lying unwashed on the coffee table, textbooks piled on the floor, and screwed-up pieces of paper strewn about the bright orange sofa.
“What a mess!” he said, ignoring her question. “You’re late. Again.”
“So, I slept through my alarm. It’s only Chaucer, again,” she said brusquely. “I’ll manage.”
“Will you?” he snapped. “Didn’t you tell me yesterday that you’ve a test in that subject in two weeks? Do you think you’ll pass? What about that essay? Wasn’t it supposed to be in today?”
He knew her timetable well and her assignments. She rattled them off in the car, barely hiding her panic when deadlines approached. Leah stared at the mountain of discarded scribbles.
“I’ll get it done tonight.”
“I don’t understand you, Leah. Your dad has given you this opportunity to prove yourself and you’re frittering it away.”
“Please don’t tell him,” blurted out Leah. She walked towards the kitchenette at the back of the flat, put her mug down on the work surface, and turned to face Rick. “I’ve not been good, have I?” she said, biting on her lower lip.
“No, you haven’t,” he said, joining her, his eyes watching her fingers fiddle with straps on her nightie. The nervous twitches were back, just like they had been in the back of the car weeks ago. “You’ve been inconsiderate, kept me waiting in the car. I’m always here on time, why can’t you show me the same respect? Do you remember what happened last time you forgot how to be well behaved?”
“You spanked me,” she said softly and her dark eyes opened up wide.