‘He was wearing slippers.’ Otto was shaking his head.
‘We won’t be doing that again, will we?’ the nurse trilled.
‘No, he bloody well won’t. Will you, Dad?’
Walter pulled a face. ‘I’ll wear trainers next time. I forgot to—’
‘I meant,’ Otto broke in stonily, ‘you won’t be going up a ladder again.’
‘But what about my guttering?’
‘What about your waterworks?’ the nurse asked. ‘Do you need the toilet?’
Now that she’d mentioned it, Walter realised that he did need a pee. He also realised that it was going to be fun and games to get from the bed to the bathroom and back.
‘Help me up,’ he muttered to Otto.
The nurse said, ‘No need. I’ll get you a bedpan.’
‘I’m not peeing into a bedpan. I’m not disabled.’
The nurse gave him a look. ‘I think you’ll find that is exactly what you are until your leg mends. You, Mr York, are going to need all the help you can get for a while.’
CHAPTER THREE
Beth was a bag of nerves. She should have said something before now. Well before. Like, when she had first thought of moving to Picklewick. Or when she had arranged to view her new house. Or when she’d signed the contract (which was the same day she’d been shown around it). Or any time since then. Even yesterday would have been good – better than today in fact, because today was moving day.
And none of her kids knew.
Her stomach was in knots at the thought of how they would react. Surely they would be pleased to have their old mum living close by? But this was Dulcie and Maisie she was thinking of, and they mightn’t be thrilled. Nikki wouldn’t mind; Nikki was a different kettle of fish to the other two (Jay was different again, being a boy). Nikki was more like Beth in a lot of ways: straight talking, forthright, didn’t suffer fools gladly. If she saw a problem, she’d want to fix it.
Maisie was a dreamer, a butterfly, flitting around without a care in the world. Beth had to hand it to Adam though,he’d grounded her youngest child, so there was hope for her yet. Dulcie sat between the two, personality wise and timewise. She would be the trickiest of the three to convince that Beth had made the right decision. Beth knew, without a modicum of doubt, that Dulcie loved her. But loving someone didn’t mean you always got on, and Dulcie and Beth had often been at loggerheads when Dulcie lived at home.
A wave of guilt washed over her at the thought of ‘home’. She was about to walk out of her kids’ childhood home for the last time, and she hadn’t given them the opportunity to say goodbye to it. What kind of mother did that make her?
After the removal men loaded the van, Beth walked around the house one last time. It was strangely upsetting to see it empty, as though its soul had dissipated, leaving a shell of the former happy home. Saying that though, Beth realised the house had lost its soul long before today. The soul had left it when Maisie had gone to Picklewick to live.
Beth set off for the village shortly after the removal van and, as she drove, her thoughts turned away from the house she had moved out of, and towards the one she was about to move into. She was looking forward to this new era in her life, with one exception – at what point did she announce her arrival to her girls?
She couldn’t do it now obviously, because she was driving, and neither did she want to have that particular conversation over the phone if she pulled over into a layby. Better to do it face to face.
Or was it? A phone call would mean that she could tell them the news in as few words as possible and then end the call, thereby giving them time to process it before she saw them. Or would that be taking the coward’s way out?
Probably, and no doubt Dulcie would hightail it into the village as soon as Beth put the phone down.
Oh dear, she really had got herself into a pickle, hadn’t she?
Deciding to wait until her furniture had been unloaded because she couldn’t deal with the removal men, Dulcie, and Maisie at the same time (Nikki would be at work, as this was a school day, and Beth didn’t think it would be good for the poor pupils if Nikki got the news whilst she was in class), Beth carried on towards the village, mulling it over in her mind.
There was no option, she realised. She would have to tell them over the phone this evening. She would invite them to her new house, and although dealing with them en masse wasn’t her preferred option, she knew she wouldn’t have any choice, no matter which way she played it. As soon as she told one, the other two would know anyway.
Beth tried to put her dread to the back of her mind and concentrate on driving. The journey to Thornbury was on good A roads, but once past the town, the roads became narrower and twistier, and the chances of meeting a slow-moving tractor were greatly increased. So it was with slightly sweaty palms that she entered the outskirts of Picklewick, relief at arriving safely easing some of her tension.
She hadn’t realised how stressful moving house could be, and that was without having to buy or sell a property. But she only had herself to blame for being even more stressed than she should be.
Hazelnut Road was just before the start of the high street proper, so she was hoping to park up without seeing anyone who knew her. Keeping her eyes peeled and feeling like a spy in alow-budget movie, Beth sank lower into the driving seat as she turned into the street where her cottage was situated.
Relief washed over her when she saw that the van had arrived, and she pulled into the kerb a short way beyond it. Clambering somewhat inelegantly out of her little red car, her back stiff and her knees protesting, Beth reached for her handbag.
