CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
With Dad improving, Mum and I finally decide to go home and get some proper sleep.
Rich comes to collect Mum and me from the hospital in the early afternoon. We kiss Dad goodbye, laughingly tell him to go easy on the nurses, and promise to return the following morning. We’re silent on the drive back, exhausted physically and mentally from the constant worry and lack of sleep over the past few days.
At home, I make Mum’s favourite pasta carbonara and we eat it, the three of us, sitting companionably close at the kitchen table. The chat is surprisingly upbeat. I think we’re all just so relieved that Dad can now have the necessary operation and that we’ve been given a reprieve from the unremitting anxiety. It feels precious, this familial bond, united as we are in our fervent hopes for Dad to make a full recovery.
Afterwards, when I tell Mum she needs to sleep, she doesn’t put up a fight. She gets up from the table, takes Rich’s face in her hands and kisses him on the forehead, then she does the same with me. Then she walks out of the kitchen, a wan smile on her face.
I take her up a cup of tea and she’s already in bed with her glasses on, looking at the messages on her phone.
She glances at the tea. ‘Thank you, Fen. You’re spoiling me. I can’t remember the last time I went to bed at four in the afternoon.’
‘Of course you don’t. Because you never do, Mum. You’re forever on the go. But this time, I insist!’
She looks up at me in surprise. Then she smiles. ‘Yes, boss.’
*****
The following day when we go in to see Dad, he’s sitting up in bed, looking much more like his old self. And the doctor has some good news – Dad’s operation has been scheduled for the following morning.
If all goes according to plan, we’ll be able to go in and see him in the afternoon.
It’s such a relief to know he’s making progress. I know we’re not out of the woods by a long chalk. We still have the operation to get through; the anxious wait to hear if it’s been a success. But I’m feeling chirpy enough to call Jaz to tell her the latest.
Jaz is really pleased. But then she says she has news of her own.
‘I applied for a job as a tour guide with the National Trust,’ she says, mentioning one of their larger properties fifty miles or so from Sunnybrook. ‘And they’ve offered me the job. They want me to start in January.’
‘What? Jaz, you’re joking, aren’t you?’ To say I’m flabbergasted would be an understatement.
‘No, I’m not joking. I’m perfectly serious.’
‘But you never mentioned it to us.’
‘That’s because I didn’t think I’d get the job.’
‘So why did you apply?’
‘I don’t know,’ she wails. ‘Well, I do. I was really fed up with Harry for organising that holiday with his mates. To be fair, they’d decided to go to Ibiza, the three of them, before Harry and I even met. But it wasn’t just the holiday.’ She sighs. ‘I saw the ad and I thought, “Why not? I’ve got nothing to lose.” I never thought I’d actually get the job.’
‘But you’re not going to take it, are you?’
Jaz sighs. ‘I think I might. Harry won’t be bothered.’
‘Of course he will! And what about us? Me and Ellie? We’d miss you so much. You can’t leave!’
She heaves another sigh. ‘It’s a big step up in salary. And I think it’ll be really interesting.’
‘Are you sure you’re not just doing it to spite Harry?’ I ask. ‘Listen, I’m coming over. We need to talk about this.’
‘I’m at the café, covering while Ellie takes her mum out for the day.’
‘That’s okay, then. She . . . she’s not due back, is she?’ I can’t face running into Ellie and getting the cold shoulder from her again. That would knock me right back down again – just when there appears to be a little chink of light with Dad.
‘No, no. You’re safe for at least a couple of hours. Come on over.’
*****
‘Is Zak collecting Maisie from school?’ I ask, when I walk into the café.
Jaz looks up from the counter, where she’s transferring sultana scones from a plastic box to a serving platter, and shakes her head.
‘Zak has meetings with his agent and publisher in London today but he and Sophie are taking Maisie to some theme park tomorrow. So Sophie’s collecting Maisie from school and they’re meeting Zak at The Gables Hotel and staying overnight.’
‘Hmm. Sophie got her way, then.’
Jaz looks at me questioningly.
I shrug. ‘Zak didn’t want to stay overnight. I heard him say so. He was no doubt thinking of Ellie. But I guess that woman can be very persuasive.’
‘Wouldn’t trust her an inch with a man of mine in a hotel overnight. No wonder Ellie’s worried.’ Jaz glances out of the window and her face falls. ‘Uh-oh. Speak of the devil.’
The door opens and in walks Sophie, followed by Maisie looking pale and clutching her stomach.
‘Bit of a hiccup, I’m afraid,’ says Sophie airily. ‘Maisie isn’t feeling well, so I’m abandoning the theme park idea.’
‘Oh, poor you,’ says Jaz, going over to Maisie. ‘Does your tummy hurt, love?’
Maisie nods sorrowfully.
‘I wonder what caused that?’ I muse aloud.
‘I had ice-cream,’ she says.
‘Yes, but it would have been lactose-free,’ says Jaz, glancing at Sophie for confirmation.
Sophie nods quickly. ‘Of course.’
‘Perhaps you should go upstairs with Jaz,’ I suggest to Maisie. ‘You could get tucked up on the sofa under a cosy blanket and watch your favourite film. What do you think?’
Maisie perks up a little and says she’d like that.
‘Oh, would you mind?’ says Sophie. ‘It’s just I can’t really stay. I’ve been trying to get hold of Zak to tell him about the change of plan, but his phone must have died because I can’t get through. He’s probably on his way to the hotel by now.’ She glances at her watch as if she’s itching to leave.
‘I’ll look after the café for a bit if you want to go upstairs with Maisie,’ I tell Jaz.
‘Right, well, I’ll shoot off, then.’ Sophie, looking relieved, heads for the door.
‘Hang on. So are you going to meet Zak at the hotel on your own, Sophie?’ I ask.
She shrugs. ‘Well, it would be a shame for him to go all that way for nothing, wouldn’t it? See ya!’ And she disappears.
Jaz puts her arm around Maisie and says, ‘Why don’t you go upstairs to the flat and get into your jim-jams and I’ll come up in a minute.’
Maisie nods and pulls her doll out of her pocket, cuddling it as she walks out. Some paper that looks like her ice-cream wrapper falls out of her pocket onto the floor.
I stare after Sophie as she drives off, an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Clearly, Jaz is thinking the same because she mutters, ‘That creature is scheming to get Zak alone in that hotel, if you ask me.’
‘She couldn’t magic up a stomach upset for Maisie, though,’ I say doubtfully.
Jaz, heading for the stairs, stoops to pick up the paper Maisie dropped.
‘Maybe she could,’ she says slowly, gazing at the wrapper.
She turns and hands it to me with a stunned expression. ‘Sophie knows damn well Maisie is lactose-intolerant.’
I stare at the ice-cream wrapper in disbelief. ‘So why the bloody hell has she bought her a cow’s milk dairy ice-cream?’