A coat on the hall stand and wellies by the door reminded her this wasn’t hers forever. She flicked the switch in another room and discovered the kitchen but it wasn’t like any kitchen she’d seen before – or at least not like any she’d experienced in real life. It looked like something out of a history book. A chipped butler’s sink was flanked by what she assumed were cupboards, but where there would normally be doors there were grubby floral curtains hanging desperately from bent wire. A battered wooden table sat in the middle and on top she saw a newspaper, a pair of glasses and a mug creeping with mould. She’d sort this out in the morning.
The living room looked lived in and the old leather sofas were comfortable but the lack of a television was alarming. There was a stool with a radio on top where you would have expected to have seen a TV. A quick hoover round and that room would be perfectly liveable.
Upstairs Darla found four good-sized bedrooms but only one of the beds had a mattress and enough space to get all the way around the bed. The other bedrooms were chock full of large pieces of old furniture. The main bedroom had been left as if someone had just got up and gone to get a cup of tea. She always carried her own bottom sheet and duvet cover just in case and this was one of those occasions. She sorted the bedding out and got ready for bed. She went to the last room on that floor: the bathroom. By this stage she hadn’t been expecting a state-of-the-art rainfall shower like she had experienced at the last property she’d stayed in but she also wasn’t fully prepared for the horror that met her.
A dark green toilet and a sink smeared with toothpaste stood next to a large bath – white on the inside and black on the outside. A constant drip tapped a rhythm as she took in the sorry-looking bathroom. She took a breath. It wasn’t the end of the world and once it was clean it would seem a whole lot better. She needed to focus on the two most important aspects of the house – it was free and it was all hers for the next five months. Things were looking up.
***
On Saturday morning Ros was up early and going over the flip charts she’d completed with Cameron as well as jotting the unanswered questions into her notebook so they could carry on when they met. The discussion about children had stuck in her mind. She’d always assumed that she wasn’t cut out to be a mother – her own mother certainly wasn’t, so why would she be any different? No child deserved to experience what she had.
She’d just finished jotting down a few areas that Cameron needed to avoid when he met her dad – mainly Portsmouth FC, billionaires in space and roadworks. They always made him grumpy.
Her phone rang and it was her dad calling. ‘Hi, you okay?’
‘I am but I didn’t sleep too well last night and when I did, I think I was in a funny position because my back is playing up this morning.’
‘That’s not good. Should I call someone?’
‘No, it’s nothing really, but Gazza it sitting staring at me because he wants to go for a W-A-L-K.’ The fact her father had to spell it out to avoid the mutt going crackers made her roll her eyes. ‘Do you think you could take him? Don’t worry if you’re busy.’
‘Of course I can, Dad. It’s not a problem,’ she said, checking her watch. She’d be cutting it fine and Gazza would have to be happy with a short W-A-L-K.
Ros hadn’t been expecting the wave of guilt that hit her on seeing her dad. The thought that she was about to lie her socks off to him didn’t sit comfortably. She was keen to get on with her task so she wasn’t late to meet Cameron. ‘I’m not going to be out long with Gazza because I’m meeting someone for coffee at eleven.’ Both Gazza and her dad stared at her and she felt like she was under a spotlight.
‘Someone?’ queried her dad. ‘Not Darla then?’
‘Err no. I’ll grab his lead and we’ll be off,’ she said, quickly exiting the living room to avoid any further questioning. She almost tripped over Gazza as he dashed ahead of her and ran to sit in front of the cupboard where his lead and harness were kept. As soon as she took them out the dog began racing around in circles. She crouched down and made an attempt to put on the harness but he was moving so fast he was almost a blur. She had one more go at grabbing him before standing up again. ‘This is ridiculous. Gazza, stop it.’ He paused for a nanosecond but she wasn’t quick enough to put on his harness so he set off again. She didn’t have time for this.
‘Bring his lead through here and I’ll put it on. He gets a bit excited.’
‘Yeah, just a bit,’ said Ros, heading back to the living room with Gazza jumping up and trying to snatch the lead from her hand.
‘Come here, boy,’ said Barry and Gazza did as he was told. Ros handed Barry the harness. ‘So is the someone for coffee a work thing?’ Barry didn’t look up.
‘Err no.’
‘Anyone I know?’ he asked as he clicked the harness in place. This was her opportunity. Ros scratched her neck. Was this whole contrived boyfriend plan a good idea? She really didn’t know. But when her dad looked up she saw something in his eyes. And oddly it felt like the right moment to lie through her teeth to him.
‘Actually I did have something to ask you...’ Her dad and Gazza stared at her expectantly. ‘There’s someone I’d like to bring to dinner tomorrow and his name is Cameron.’ Oh my goodness, why did that feel like the hardest thing in the world to say?
Barry looked more stunned than if she’d slapped him in the face with a pie. Gazza barked, which startled Ros and jolted Barry out of his speechlessness. ‘Great. And is this Cameron a friend or...’
The hope and expectation in her father’s eyes were quite something. Ros took a deep breath. ‘He’s my boyfriend.’
Chapter Eight
Ros couldn’t get out of the house quick enough and thankfully Gazza felt the same. Her dad’s face was something she would always remember. The smile that appeared – the likes of which had been something she’d not seen from him for a very long time. She’d dashed off before her dad could pass comment and had been hugely relieved to escape any questioning. She’d done it. She’d sown the first seed. This was happening. She felt breathless and then realised that she was almost jogging thanks to Gazza setting the pace. Why did he always pull? It couldn’t be comfortable. For a small dog he had a lot of power. She tried to bring him to heel but he preferred to be semi-choking. Her phone rang and with some difficulty she answered it with one hand.
‘Hiya, Ros, it’s Cameron.’
‘I’ve told him,’ she blurted out. ‘My dad. I’ve told him about us.’
‘Okay. How did it go?’
‘I left before he could ask me anything but he was pleased. He looked really happy.’ Saying it out loud made something settle inside her. The lying wasn’t going to be easy but if it put that kind of smile on his face then it was worth it.
‘Well done. That’s a great start. Any chance we could meet a bit earlier? I’ve been asked to do an extra shift at the charity shop because someone has phoned in sick and Saturday is a busy day for them.’
