Communication and the English

Layton sat in his living room, trying to do anything except make eye contact with the young man who had recently been invited into his house. As he did this, said young man was in turn staring very determined at his tea cup to avoid looking at Layton. It was an uncomfortable situation in which they both knew that they needed to talk, but neither wanted to say anything. Every creek of the floorboards from upstairs, where Flora was preparing, was a ray of hope that maybe this would be over soon.

In his private mind, if it had been down to Layton, none of this would be happening. He'd never been very keen on the idea of Flora being romantically involved with the young man, who went by the name of Harold Hammond; a recent supply teacher at Gressenheller, who occasionally covered Layton's archaeology classes when he himself couldn't attend them.

And what was, not only the height of unprofessional behaviour for a lecturer, but also an offence you could be sacked for?

Dating students.

But, Layton reminded himself for the umpteenth time that day, Flora was not a student. She had nothing to do with Gressenheller. And when it came down to it, Hammond wasn't even that much older than she was. He just happened to have worked hard enough to get the position of supply teacher at a young age.

All the same, Flora was Layton's little girl. Anyone wanting to court her would have met with silent disapproval from him, but for someone who worked alongside him to do so just seemed extra insulting.

He couldn't say anything though. Not just because it would be rude and unnecessary, but also because he... hadn't been the best father to Flora over the years. And he knew that. Before adopting Flora into his family, he'd never had any real experience raising a child and in the years that followed her arrival he'd only made countless mistakes. If it hadn't been for the frequent help and advice he received on the matter from his friend Rosa, he half suspected that Flora may have even been removed from his care by now.

The fact remained, however, that Layton wanted to care for Flora as best he could and was always willing to learn as time went on, so that he could do better than the times he'd failed in future.

So when Flora told him that she was seeing Hammond, as much as he might have wanted to object, he instead respected his daughter's wishes and said that was perfectly fine. This seemed to have made her happy, which, in turn, made him happy.

She'd assured him that she'd met Hammond away from Gressenheller. That they both just happened to get talking over shared interests and over time had developed a bond with each other. Neither of them had been sneaking behind his back about it so much as Layton was always so caught up in his work that there had never been time to mention it to him. Sheepishly, Layton had to agree that sometimes he did get so distracted that he failed to notice the goings-on of those around him. It was a habit he was struggling to break, even after all these years.

Tonight was their first “official” date. Not counting the times they'd spent together in the café that was attached to a small second-hand book store they both frequented. And while the concept of dating seemed to feel a little too American for Layton's tastes (to an old English man like him the tried and tested method of “bumbling into a relationship without actually meaning to” seemed to be the way things worked), Flora was adamant that this was what she wanted to do.

It was just going to a restaurant, she'd said. People go to restaurants all the time. It's hardly out of the ordinary.

Once again, Layton was forced to agree with her logic.

Which brought him back to this moment in time, where he was sitting with her date, both of them trying very hard not to talk to each other.

As if on some kind of magical cue, Flora called down from the top of the stairs, “I'll just be a few more minutes!”

“Okay-”

“Very well-”

They both shut up quickly after realising they'd both replied, as if this was an alien concept, and stared at one another

After a moment of silence, Layton decided there'd been enough of this; “Look, um, Harold. I feel that we need to talk.”

“Yes,” agreed Hammond, though his face read that he very much didn't want to do that.

“I know that you are a nice man. Not just because Flora has told me so, but because of conversations we've had during the time you've worked at Gressenheller. You seem like you would never hurt anyone and I wouldn't want to accuse you of doing so,” Layton began, “But at the same time, I am Flora's father. She's seen so little of the world so far that I worry she might not have the... the most experienced judgement. She can be quite naïve because of this.”

“You don't need to worry, Mr. Layton. The Tower Restaurant is a lovely place that I'm sure Flora has probably even been to before. She'll be completely safe and surrounded by people who will treat her with respect,” Hammond promised.

Layton wondered for a moment how to say the next line delicately, but then decided that he wasn't going to; “Including yourself?”

“Of course including myself,” assured Hammond, “I care very deeply for your daughter and would not want any harm to come to her.”

“How long exactly have you two been seeing each other? Flora has never really said,” Layton went on, feeling that he may as well keep the interrogation going.

“About seven months,” Hammond answered, “We didn't want to rush into anything, which is part of the reason that we never mentioned it to you sooner.”

“Yes and Flora has told me of the other reason. Even so, why would the two of you wait until now to go on your first date?” pressed Layton.

“We didn't want to do so without your approval. That truly would have seemed like sneaking around behind your back. Flora told me that she wanted us all to be on the same page and I quite agree that's the best thing to do,” Hammond replied.

“She does know best,” agreed Layton, “So, well then...”

“If there's anything else you wish to tell me before we go then feel free,” Hammond offered.

“Honestly, I can't think of anything. Though I'm sure that there's more I probably should say about it,” Layton admitted, “This is the first time Flora's ever dated anyone.”

“If it makes you feel any better, this is also my first time going on a date,” confessed Hammond, “It's always seemed... a little American for me. But planning to spend time together is good and it's what Flora really wanted. I want her to be happy.”

“Yes, I agree with you on all fronts,” Layton replied, seeming a bit more optimistic about it having heard that, “It's a bit of a shame, because I was hoping that you'd have been able to clear up how a date is that much different from the time that the two of you spend together anyway.”

“It's the atmosphere, I think. Meeting up at Barter Books is just something we do casually all the time. But this is something different and special. That's what makes it so important to her,” answered Hammond.

Layton nodded; “And what's important to Flora is important to me. Or should I say to us?”

“Yes, indeed,” agreed Hamond, smiling.

“Sorry that I took a bit longer, than I said I would” Flora cut in, walking down the stairs, “I do hope the two of you weren't too bored.”

“Not at all, we were just talking,” Layton replied.

He looked over at her and found himself a little surprised at how stunningly she was dressed right now. To him, Flora was always beautiful, but she had clearly gone to the effort to dress up for this evening. The gown she was wearing was very elegant and she'd tied her hair up very nicely. Her face radiated with a warm happiness that infected both of them instantly.

“You look wonderful,” Hammond commented.

“It's just a little something Rosa helped me put together,” Flora replied, “Now come on Harry, we don't want to miss our reservations. I'll see you later, dad.”

It made Layton feel a little bit of joy inside every time he heard Flora call him dad. A habit she'd eventually slipped into after years of referring to him as just “the Professor”.

He watched as Flora gently took Hammond by the arm and started leading them both towards the door.

“Flora?” he called after.

“Yes?” she replied, turning back to look at him.

“I hope you have a good time this evening,” he said, suddenly feeling awkward, “Harold's right, you do look beautiful. Not that you don't always, mind you, just that-”

“It's okay, I understand,” she cut him off, knowing that he could ramble on sometimes without quite knowing what to say, “And thanks. I'll see you later, dad.”

As they made to leave, Hammond called back, “We'll be back by nine o'clock, Mr. Layton.”

“See to it that you are,” Layton laughed.

That was the last he heard of them, as the door was then closed and their footsteps echoed away down the street. For a moment, Layton just stood and stared at the closed door. He felt content. In that moment he knew that, while he might not be the best father in the world, his little girl was growing up and living life as she wanted. She didn't need him to make every decision for her, just to provide the right encouragement on the decisions she made for herself.

He sighed, turning away from the door to fetch the tea cup that Hammond had left on the table when Flora had pulled him away. Might as well do a bit of washing up before settling down for that evening's marking.

Although, when nine o'clock came around, he knew for certain that he'd be waiting at the door for news of how Flora's first date had gone.