Evangeline

Evangeline Harcourt slowly and carefully opened one eye and the room swam into focus. For a moment she had no idea where she was, then it all came rushing back. She'd gone into the Red Lion for a couple of drinks after work, one thing had led to another and five hours later, too inebriated to manage the walk home, she'd stumbled back to her friend Will's house to sleep on his couch. Although surprised to see her so late, he'd been accommodating enough, even going so far as to offer her a slightly stained duvet to cover herself with. She moved her head to one side and the room span. “Shit” she muttered, waiting for the throbbing in her temples to subside.

Where was her phone? After a frantic few minutes of searching she found behind a cushion. Five missed calls. All from work. Two answer phone messages. “Shit” she said again. Glancing at the time, she realised it was 11.20am. Too late to call in sick. It was the third time this month she'd missed a day of work and she'd only had the job for four months. Feeling slightly sick, a combination of too much alcohol and dread at the contents of the message she was about to hear, she dialled the answer phone and steeled herself for her boss's wrath. The first message, left at 9.20am, began. It was the voice of James, her current employer, filled with barely restrained anger. “Evangeline, where are you? The meeting starts in 10 minutes and we need those files you've been working on. Call me, or better yet, be here.”

She gave a groan as she remembered that the Robinson-Sawyer meeting, the one everybody had been preparing for for weeks, was taking place that morning. She'd been given some important documents to go through and update. They were at that very moment stacked on the coffee table in her living room and of no use to anyone.

The second message, left at 10.47, was, if it was possible, even more tense than the first. It seemed as though James was struggling to keep himself from shouting down the phone. “Evangeline, I'm sure I don't need to tell you that we're not expecting you back in the office. I've never been let down by a member of staff like this before. Your irresponsible behaviour may have cost us an important client. I gave you this job out of respect for your father and it's because of him that you've had so many second chances, but you've gone too far this time. I've informed him of the situation.” There was a pause and an intake of breath as though he was thinking of adding something else, but he must have changed his mind because there was the click of a phone disconnecting.

“Shit” she said, for the third time. Lying back and closing her eyes against the too bright sunlight flooding the room. If she'd been able to keep the situation from her father for a few days, it would have given her time to prepare a plausible excuse for not turning up for the most important meeting of the year, but James had kindly taken it upon himself to share the information with him. She felt a wave of guilt, but it passed as quickly as it had come. Fuck it, it wasn't like she needed the money. Her father was one of the richest men in Surrey and the allowance he gave her each month was more than enough for one person to live on quite comfortably. She gave a frown of irritation. Why did he insist she did these stupid jobs anyway? She would never need to work for a living.

Having succeeded in getting unsteadily to her feet and pulling on her jeans, she wandered through to the kitchen. There was a note on the table. 'Morning, Piss Head' it read. 'Hope the hangover's not too bad. There's milk for tea and bread for toast, help yourself. W x'

She absent mindedly slotted some bread in the toaster and flicked the switch on the kettle, hoping a bite to eat would give her enough energy for the walk back home. As she buttered the toast, her phone began to buzz. Her father. She put it onto silent mode. It could wait until she got home.

Evangeline walked slowly and reluctantly up the tree lined drive of Nightingale Hall, her family's ancestral home. It was late spring and the last of the bluebells nodded in the warm breeze alongside frothy white heads of cow parsley. The scent of wild garlic from the woods on either side of her filled the air and blackbirds, busy raising their young, hopped amongst last autumn's fallen leaves, flinging them about in search of insects. In spite of having been born and raised here, Evangeline was still struck by the beauty of the place and felt extremely lucky to call it home.

As she rounded a curve in the drive, the house appeared ahead of her. It was early Georgian and built of red brick. Over the centuries, the bricks and tiles had weathered and softened until the house had become almost a part of the landscape. The large windows glinted in the sun as she approached, as though to welcome her back. Although dreading the confrontation she knew was to come, she felt her heart lift as she always did when she returned here.

As she neared the top of the gravel drive she made a left, cutting across the lawn to reach her private annexe. She approached the door and inserted the key. It was already unlocked. That could only mean one thing. Her father was waiting for her. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and went inside. He sat in an armchair in the corner of the small living room, gazing distractedly out of the french doors across the manicured lawns and fields of the estate. He heard her approach and turned his head to look at her. She hated that look. Disappointment. Anger was infinitely preferable to disappointment. He sighed.

“Evangeline”, he began, “ I think you know why I'm here.” Regarding her sternly from under bushy black brows he continued. “It's with regards to this latest stunt of yours.” Evangeline opened her mouth to protest, but her father went on. “As you know, James Stanton and I go back a long way where business is concerned, but he's also become a very good friend over the years. What you've done not only reflects badly on me, but damages any credibility I've built up with him over the years. Credibility that it will take time to repair”. Evangeline stood uncomfortably in front of her father, unable to make eye contact as he chastised her like a schoolgirl. She felt the heat of shame and defiance flush her cheeks.

There was a short but weighty pause before he continued. “You've let James down, you've let me down, but worst of all you've let yourself down. I'm just glad your mother's not here to see this.”
Evangeline bit her lip as a sharp wave of pain passed through her. Why did he have to play that card? Her mother, a wonderfully warm and loving woman, had died of cancer when Evangeline was just eleven years old, leaving an enormous void that she never seemed quite able to fill. She hated the idea of disappointing her mother and her father knew it.

“You've been given every opportunity in life and I've always believed and continue to believe, that you're capable of a lot more than you've so far shown yourself to be. You, however, seem determined, time and again, to prove me wrong.”

Evangeline looked away, glanced down at her hands, looked back at her father again.

He went on. “I suppose I must shoulder some of the responsibility for your behaviour. After your mother died, I wasn't there for you as much as I should have been, and I attempted, perhaps ill advisedly, to make up for that with material things.”

That much was true. After her mother's death, her father had retreated into himself in his grief, shutting her out entirely. She'd been packed off to boarding school, where she'd been desperately miserable. A girl in the year above had taken against her for some unknown reason and bullied her mercilessly, even going so far as to sneak into her dormitory late one night and hack off great chunks of her hair as she slept. Evangeline, not wanting to worry her father, had kept the bullying to herself but had become cold and distant from her classmates as a form of self protection.

Her father, feeling horrendously guilty for sending his young daughter away, sent endless lavish gifts to her in the post and treated her to anything she wanted when she was at home for the school holidays. One of these gifts had been a pony, Bramble, who had turned up in a stable one day with an enormous red bow tied to his bridle. He had become almost her sole companion for several years after her mother's death. There had always been horses at the estate and Evangeline had ridden from the age of three, but until Bramble, she'd never had a pony of her own. They had grown incredibly close, with Evangeline taking all responsibility for his care.

Her father's voice brought an end to her reverie. “You're 23 years old, receiving a very generous allowance and I can see how that might lessen your drive to work for a living.”

There was another pause and Evangeline took the opportunity to interject. “Daddy”, she began her well rehearsed speech. “I know I've let you down, and I'm so sorry. You've always done the best you could for me and I promise, next time-”

“That's just it” cut in her father. “There won't be a next time. Not for a while at least. I've frozen your allowance.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but when they did, a look of horror crossed Evangeline's face. “but daddy, you can't-” she began. “I can and I have” interrupted her father. He stood up, clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace the room.

“I know you think I'm being a heartless bastard,” he continued, “ but I can't see another way around it. I have no desire to abandon you, you're my daughter and I love you. You may stay on in the annexe if you wish, but only under certain conditions.”

“Daddy, I” “Let me finish” he barked. Spinning round to glare at her. “I've recently hired a new groundsman. Seems like a capable chap, but there's a lot of land here, a lot of animals. A lot of work for one man. I've suggested he take you on as an assistant and he's agreed to the idea in principal.”

Evangeline, aghast, began again to protest. Her father silenced her with a look. “You'll work with Alec, do anything he asks of you within reason. In return you'll be paid a reasonable wage. He'll report directly to me. If I find out you're not pulling your weight, if you're giving him trouble of any kind, your pay will be docked. You were always interested in the running of the estate when you were a girl, well here's a chance to learn the ins and outs of things and to earn some money at the same time.”

For once, Evangeline was speechless. She could tell her father was serious and knew there would be no changing his mind. Furious at him as well as herself for letting things get to this point, and suffering the effects of a fierce hangover, she burst into tears and ran out of the room. Reaching her bedroom, she slammed the door as hard as she could behind her. She half expected her father to come after her, but after a minute or so, she heard the front door softly close and she was alone.

Pulling out her phone, she scrolled through the contacts until she got to Hugo, her brother. After a few rings he picked up. He sounded distracted and she could hear Max, his youngest son, screaming bloody murder in the background. Hugo was eleven years older than Evangeline, but they were very close in spite of the age gap. “Hey, little sister, you caught me at a bit of a bad time. I told Max he couldn't flush my wallet down the toilet and now we've got a total meltdown on our hands. Is it something that can wait?”

Evangeline thought about explaining the situation to him, but the idea of competing for attention with a screaming two year old was more than she could face. Besides which, she could almost hear Hugo's response when she related the story. “You've got to grow up sometime, Eva, take responsibility for your actions.” He'd always been the sensible one. Smart and driven at school, he'd come top of his year at university and gone immediately into a high paid job in the City. Although he loved his sister, he didn't have a lot of time for her antics. “It's nothing really, just calling for a chat”. She replied. “I'll ring back another time.”

“Ok, great. Speak soon.” Hugo hung up.

After crying a few hot tears of impotent fury she went to the loo, downed a pint of ice cold water along with two aspirin, slid between her bedsheets and fell into a deep sleep.