Dark Stars, Light Stars

Chapter 8 - Get Used to Disappointment

Get used to disappointment. – William Goldman, The Princess Bride

'Did you find his mother?'

Gavin ignored his daughter and pushed passed her to get inside the house.

'Dad, just answer me!'

Her father spun around and faced her, his face glowing red.

'We arrested her.'

Justice stood back from her Father and shook her head in disbelief.

'For what she did?'

'No, for something different. Until the case is confirmed, it is to remain confidential.'

Gavin pulled out a chair from the dining table and collapsed onto it. Work had been very hard lately, and he had to do twice the amount of work that he usually did during his normal hours. He could not tell Justice that though, his work was something that remained locked away from her.

It frustrated him sometimes. So he said that he owned a major company, 'Casanova Industries', but that was a lie.

Everything was a lie.

'The kid needs a place to stay,' he explained as he got up from his position and walked to the fridge. As he sorted through the food and drinks, he continued talking to Justice.

'We're going to see if he can stay in a motel. We'll pay for it, naturally.'

His daughter furrowed her eyebrows.

'We? Who's we?'

Her Father stiffened.

'My partners and I. Just until he is of the legal age . . .'

'He turns eighteen next week.'

'Yes, I know that, but up until then . . .'

He lost his train of thought as he continued to look through the fridge. Justice finally gave up and opened the door of the oven.

'Dad, there's a casserole in there for you. I made it this afternoon.'

Her Dad stood up from his position and turned around to face his daughter.

'Thanks sweetheart. Now what was I saying . . .'

Justice sighed. 'Alistair.'

'Oh right yes. Well we know that his mother is, how do you say, a whacko? No that's a bit harsh. She's just going through a hard time and need support. Unfortunately, so does Alistair. So try to befriend him for me.'

'I've tried. He's shy, and quiet, and I don't think I'm good at this stuff.' Justice replied as she collected her oven mits and pulled their dinner from the oven.

'You're Justice Casanova! Don't doubt yourself.'

'Well judging by my reputation, I am not the only one.'

Her Father set the table for the two of them, thinking of what to say next. Yes, Justice didn't have the best reputation, but that was because she got good grades and always had her nose stuck in a book. It wasn't her fault. (Actually, it sort of was, but her Father did not like to admit it).

'Justice, why do you lack confidence. Is it really that hard to gain? Simply talk to him, make jokes. I must know why it is so hard.'

Justice merely shrugged and replied:

'Get used to disappointment.'

~~~

'Daaaaaaad,' Justice whined, 'I've finished all my homework.'

Her Father's head popped around the corner and he smiled at her.

'Of course you are. Hey, can you do me a favour and empty the bins. I have a call I have to take.'

Justice nodded and pushed her chair back. Her Father returned to his study and she headed towards the kitchen.

' . . . she going? I knew the news about her son would shake her up a bit.'

Justice froze on the spot and strained her ears to listen. Who was her Dad talking to?

'He's fine. We just have to get him accommodation and he'll be right. Justice only knows so much.'

The girl turned around and walked out the doorway before quietly making her way up the stairs, just as her Dad entered his office and closed the door. She sat on the top step of the staircase and listened.

'The teachers need to be notified about the information we found of his Father. This is dangerous business. His whole family is at stake.'

What about Alistair's Father? How would her Dad know anything, when Justice did not know herself?

She only knew certain things about him – he only told her certain things.

To cover up his pain.

Oh Alistair.
'No, no, no not exactly. What I meant was, if his Father comes back, the town will be sent into a frenzy. Everyone thinks he's dead – died in a car accident years ago is what we told them. Nobody can handle the truth nowadays.

'Just call me back when you get the information. I can't do much at the moment, my hands are full. I've been given a promotion, and so has Adele. She's not coming back until the middle of next year . . . No I haven't told her yet. Adele said that she'll tell her over the phone . . . Next time she calls I s'pose. Next week I'm sure . . . No haven't told her that either. I should, they're so close, but this is dangerous business, and they haven't a clue about what we do anyway . . .'

Justice stood up from the stairs and bounded down them, not caring if she fell. Her Father had lied to her – more than she thought he had. What on earth happened to Alistair's Father? He never mentioned him, let alone his death.

And her Father's job? What on earth could be so confidential about it that Justice couldn't know?

And her Mum. Another year away. That would add up to five years of Justice not seeing her Mother. She couldn't last another day, let alone another year.

She had to find out more about her Father's so called 'Confidential Job'. If she didn't want to be disappointed, then she would have to investigate herself.

The sad fact is, she was already used to it.