‘You deserved the upgrade.’ He’d set his Father’s Day card beside the television in the lounge, so he could see it when he watched his programmes, he’d told Nate.
Nate served up the omelette, added the salad from the fridge that his dad had already made and they sat down to what was by now a very late Saturday night dinner.
Part way through his half of the big, puffy omelette, Nate broached the subject. He wanted to give his dad options, something to think about when he was ready. ‘There’s a bungalow up for sale near me.’
‘You going to buy it?’
‘I already have a place, Dad.’
‘So as an investment property then? Or do it up and sell to make a profit?’
‘I don’t mean for me, Dad.’
Trevor didn’t look up from his omelette. ‘I know you don’t; I’m not daft. You want me to leave here, live near you in Wales.’
‘I want you to do what’s right for you. It’s just something to think about, that’s all. But I can see the life you have here, so I’m not going to push you into anything.’
‘Your mother always loved Wales.’
‘She did.’
‘I’m glad you’re happy there, son.’
‘But it’s not for you?’ he guessed. He chewed another mouthful. ‘You won’t even consider it? I’d like to have you near me.’
Trevor ate his omelette thoughtfully. ‘I’m not trying to be difficult. I hear about children of elderly parents completely altering their lives to care for whoever is left—’
‘Dad, no need to put it that way.’
‘It might be a little crass, but it’s the truth. If your mother was here, you wouldn’t worry about us both as we’d have each other. Am I lonely? Sometimes. But I’d be feeling even more lonely in Wales.’
‘But you’d have me. You’d have the sea, you love the sea.’
‘At this stage, it’s a no. I want to be here in this house surrounded by my things, my memories.’
Nate finished the last of his omelette. He may as well say everything he needed to. He was running out of time and didn’t want to leave Little Woodville without any idea of what they’d do long-term. ‘I’m worried, Dad. I stopped worrying for a while because I can see how many friends you have here. But the burn today scared me. I know it could’ve happened to anyone, but it didn’t; it happened to you. My dad. And if I wasn’t here…’
‘Then I’d have done exactly what I did: put it under the cold tap and probably called you to have you nag me to get a taxi to the hospital. And you’d have made sure I went too. You would’ve called the nurses, charmed your way into getting information.’
‘I’m not that bad. And my charm hardly worked on that nurse who seemed to think I’d been pushing you around. The way she talked to you, checking your answers added up, not wanting to really look at me.’
‘Well, whatever she was up to, you’re not mistreating me and I’m managing fine.’
‘Dad—’
‘Nate, I know you want to plan for the future, know what’s what, but for now, let’s keep things as they are. Would that be all right with you?’
‘Of course.’ He hesitated. ‘But I should confess, I’ve made enquiries.’
‘Enquiries?’ He put his cutlery together and let Nate take the plates away and over to the sink.
Nate turned around and rested against the sink, arms crossed as he looked at his dad. ‘I’ve been looking into options for warden-assisted places, somewhere you’d have other people, help in an emergency.’ He leapt in with, ‘They’re only enquiries, Dad. And I made them before I came here and realised you’re doing so well.’ He’d made enquiries around here and back in Wales, but nothing had come of anything; most had wait lists which is likely what made Nate panic that bit more. What if they needed something quickly and couldn’t get a foot in the door anywhere?
‘You jumped the gun a bit.’
‘I know. I just wanted to know what options you’ll have.’
‘Put the brakes on, son.’
