Hi! Apologies for the delay in updating this. I've been a bit unmotivated recently and the awful news of Holby being axed was just the straw that broke the camel's back, I think. However, as long as you all keep reading my fics, I'll keep writing them and I really hope the same goes for all the other writers on here! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)
'Eilidh, I'm home!' Jack called from the front door through to the kitchen. He was a man of habit, and set his boots by the front door under his coat like he did every day, making sure to lock the door behind him. This way, he didn't have to worry about robberies, like those that had become a common occurrence in the neighbourhood recently.
'Hello,' Eilidh replied, 'we're in the kitchen.'
Ange sent a furtive look to her mother, asking her a silent question but she shook her head, now wasn't the time.
It wasn't that either of them were scared of Ange's father, but he was known to have strict morals and he was a very traditional man, driven by pride and focusing on appearances more than Ange wished.
'Hi, Angel, how was your day?' he asked as he came into the kitchen, pausing to hug his wife hello.
'Hi, Dad. Umm, it was-'
'I forgot to mention that we need more potatoes for dinner. Angel, can you run out and get them, please?' Eilidh interrupted, not wanting her daughter to have to lie.
'Sure,' Ange nodded. She was relieved to have been provided with an escape and grabbed some money from the jar in the top cupboard before slipping her old trainers on and leaving the house.
Despite it only being September, Ange hunched her shoulders against the Scottish autumn winds and buried her hands in her pockets. Foolishly, she'd come without a hat and she knew she'd have to spend at least an extra five minutes combing the knots out of her hair that night, even though the ends only just reached her shoulders. The little shop wasn't far from her house, just a five minute walk, but she spent the whole journey cursing herself for her stupidity and dreading returning home. Her mother was sympathetic to the situation, but she also knew that her parents valued honesty: her secret wouldn't be one for much longer.
'All right, lovely?' the lady at the till asked as Ange handed her a bag of potatoes. She was in her mid-sixties, with greying, candyfloss-like hair that had been cut short. Ange just nodded and gave her a small smile.
'Ok, well, I hope you cheer up soon. Here.' She slipped Ange a chocolate bar from the display next to the counter, earning herself a smile and 'thank you' from the young girl.
Realising it was getting dark, she hurried home and got there just as the heavens opened, rain falling from the sky so hard it could be heard over the screaming match that emerged from the kitchen.
'Eilidh, what on earth is this?' Jack shouted, pulling the half-concealed pregnancy test out of the bin and gesturing with it to his wife.
'Jack, calm down. We should talk,' she replied, keeping her voice even for Ange's sake.
'I will not calm down! You need to tell me where… because we haven't…..' he trailed off as he took in the sight of his only daughter, tears in her eyes that couldn't quite meet his, 'Angel?'
His stern tone forced her to raise her gaze until she looked into her father's eyes, which were filled with unadulterated rage.
'I'm so sorry,' she whispered shakily.
'Oh, you're "sorry" are you? "Sorry" doesn't cut it, young lady. How could you have been so stupid? Your mother and I have raised you better than to do something like this; why did you do it? When did it happen? Who the hell did this to you? Actually, never mind who, you should have known better. I cannot believe this Angel, I just… I need some air.'
With that, Jack grabbed his keys from the kitchen table and threw on his coat, not even turning back to his family before he slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Ange and Eilidh with one last view of him turning his collar up against the wind and rain as he climbed into the car.
'Mum.' Ange turned to bury her face in her mother's chest, crying quietly. This was worse than she'd feared: her dad had walked out, he was furious and it was all her fault.
'It'll be ok, Angel. He won't leave, Dad just needs some time to think- it is a lot to process and you know how he is, so stuck in his ways. I'm not going anywhere, ok? So, what we're going to do is finish making dinner and then he'll be back, yeah?' Eilidh soothed, confident in her promise as she knew her husband too well, knew he loved Ange too much to ever leave.
'Ok,' Ange nodded in response.
Together, they finished preparing the vegetables and potatoes, cooked the rest of the meal, and laid it out, waiting for Jack before they ate.
'He won't be long,' Eilidh reassured Ange, but she was less sure of herself now.
Dinner sat on the table for another ten minutes, then half an hour, then forty five minutes, an hour, an hour and a half.
Jack still didn't come home.
Ange picked at her meal, knowing that she shouldn't waste the food but she felt so sick that she was sure it wouldn't stay down for long.
'Angel, sweetheart, come on, eat up. You need to eat, and so does the baby. I've seen how much your appetite's grown recently, but obviously, I didn't know why, so you'll be hungry later if you don't.'
'He's not coming back, Mum. Is he?' Ange whispered, praying that her mum would tell her otherwise.
Eilidh sat back down and put an arm around her daughter. 'I don't know when, but he will. Your father loves you, very much, like I do. He will come back, but for now you need to eat this, ok?'
With that, her mum left to clear away the pans and Ange forced down a few mouthfuls of her mashed potato, pushing aside the meat and vegetables. She reverted back to an old childhood habit and tried to bury half of the meat with the potato in the hope that it would appear as though she'd eaten more than she had.
That night, Ange curled up on the sofa with a book, almost afraid of going to sleep in case her mum left too. Jack still hadn't come home, and she was starting to worry that he'd walked out on them and it was all her fault. The tears sprang to her eyes all too easily. Damn hormones, she cursed.
'Hey, shhh. Come on, it's not as bad as all that. Dad will come home, Angel.'
Ange wished she could believe her mum, but she didn't. Nevertheless, she allowed herself to be held and comforted until she fell asleep in her mother's arms.