Hidden Cottage by Erica James Page B

the dynamics within the family. But in no way was it her fault. Jeff was to blame; it was his singling her out as his favourite that did the harm. Blind to what he was doing, divisions took hold and resentment amongst the children bubbled beneath the surface. As the years went by, Jeff changed, he became hardened; the fun seemed to go out of him and he grew increasingly dictatorial, his ears closed to any viewpoint but his own. Mia put it down to him simply replicating his behaviour in the office at home – so used to being the boss at work, he expected to be treated accordingly at home. All too frequently Mia felt guilty that despite her attempts to do so she had failed to rein Jeff in, to make him see the damage he was doing to the family and himself.
    Guilt. Oh, she could gather it effortlessly, layer upon layer of the stuff. Like ornaments on a shelf gathering dust.
    She felt guilty right now that she had argued with Jeff last night, having promised herself she wouldn’t rise to his bait. During the day they had both been occupied – he with another round of golf and she with driving the girls to the station and then tidying the house, stripping beds, washing the sheets and towels, setting up the ironing board in the kitchen and making sure that Jeff had the shirts he wanted to pack for the week he was in Brussels.
    In the evening, they had a dinner party to go to given by friends of Jeff’s from the golf club. As he could so often do, he had put on an impressive act of appearing as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He had charmed and joked his way smoothly through the evening with consummate skill. Only when they had said goodbye to their hosts and Mia was driving them home did he drop the act and pick up where he’d left off, that of sitting in crushing silence. She knew and understood that he was hurting, that Daisy could have given him no greater shock, but he had to come to terms with it. He had to realize that his treasured daughter was allowed to make her own decisions now, most of which wouldn’t include or relate to him.
    But facing up to life’s great dilemmas was not something Jeff was good at. Yes, he acknowledged them, but he didn’t deal with them. Anything he couldn’t easily resolve, he swept aside as if it had nothing to do with him. He’d never, for instance, spoken openly about Daisy’s illness; it was as if he had blocked it from his thinking. Again, that was him all over. He was acutely disdainful of any kind of introspection. He refused any sort of self-analysis; blame was so much more convenient, particularly so if he could lay it squarely at someone else’s door. When Daisy was receiving treatment for her anorexia, his way of dealing with it was to bury himself in work.
    Over the weekend, Daisy had calmly furthered her case for wanting to leave her job and move to the other side of the world. ‘But you can get another job, here in this country,’ Jeff had argued. ‘It doesn’t have to be so far away for pity’s sake. Or why don’t you come to Brussels with me? I could get you a job there. That would give you a change of scene and some excitement, if that’s what you’re looking for.’
    ‘But I don’t want to go to Brussels,’ she’d said. ‘I want to go to Sydney. Come on, Dad, there’s no comparison between the two places, or the lifestyles the two offer.’
    ‘You’ve never been to Sydney – how do you know what the life would be like?’
    She wasn’t to be deterred, though. ‘Life is hardly ever what we think it’s going to be,’ she’d said with such solemnity and such wisdom in one so young Mia had wanted to hug her. ‘All we can ever do is hope for the best.’
    ‘Sounds like your mind’s made up,’ he’d said flatly.
    ‘It is, Dad. But I want to go with your blessing; I don’t want you to stay cross with me.’
    Of course, Daisy was the last person he would stay cross with. That would be saved for the rest of them. As last night in bed proved