‘Dad’s an engineer,’ I chip in, inanely, as if this might persuade my father to approve of Oliver’s work.
‘Really?’ Oliver looks suitably impressed. ‘Well, anyway—’
‘Yes, we shouldn’t keep you,’ I babble, and then Oliver calls up to Lyla and she appears, descending the stairs carefully, all smiles and long, loose golden hair and that magnificent bump.
She hugs Oliver. ‘Bye, Uncle Olly. You’re coming to pick me up tomorrow?’
‘Yeah, of course, love.’
‘Where are you staying?’ I ask him.
‘Premier Inn. Only the best.’ He grins. Then he heads out and climbs into the Land Rover.
We’ve all come out, and I’m gripped by an urge to run over before he drives away and say,Sorry about that – and how awkward it was. It’s just the way Dad is – but it’s not only that. Frank isn’t home and I’m starting to think he might never come back. So, you know. Timing …
Obviously, I don’t say any of that. I don’t say anything at all. As Lyla and Eddie head back inside, I raise a hand. Oliver looks back and something catches between us. He smiles, in awhat-was-all-that?kind of way.
‘Sorry about the beaver thing,’ I call out, and quickly shut the door.
In the hallway now, aware of Eddie and Lyla chatting upstairs, I check my phone for messages or missed calls. I’m itching to call Frank again, but is it better to let him call when he’s ready? Jamie was right; he probably just needs a cooling-off period. He’ll be at a friend’s, I decide. Frank has plenty of mates locally; they go hiking sometimes, and for the occasional drink. But he’s not an out-every-night kind of man. Far from it. It’s home that Frank loves – or at least, hedid.
Later still, at just gone eleven when I’m getting ready for bed, my phone rings. ‘Frank!’ I say. Thank God he’s okay.
‘Hi,’ he says dully. Then nothing.
‘Where are you?’
‘Never mind. I just can’t be there at the moment.’
‘What, here with us? With me?’ My voice fractures as I glimpse Mum’s cracked vase on the chest of drawers.
‘I just can’t be at home right now,’ he says quickly, ‘so I’ve got somewhere to stay—’
‘Are you with a friend? With Dev or Mick or—’
‘I’ve just found somewhere. And I wanted you to know I’m all right …’
‘Frank, tell me where you are!’ I plead. ‘Are you in a hotel? This is crazy! You don’t need to stay away from me. I told you I’m so sorry about last night. And I really am. It was mad and selfish and—’
‘I’d never do that to you,’ he announces. ‘Never.’
My stomach seems to clench and a tear rolls down my face. ‘No. I know that.’
The pause seems to hang. Lyla’s bright laughter filters through from Eddie’s room. I should be happy that she’shere, and that she and Eddie seem so much more at ease together now. Surely that should tell me that everything’s going to be okay?
However, I’m not sure it is now as Frank says, ‘I’m going now. I’ll call you.’ And then he’s gone.
Chapter Thirty-eight
August
Frank
It had just reached the point where it had becometoo much.Kilmory Cottage had always felt a bit on the poky side when there were five of them there, but it was different back then. They’d all fitted together, like jigsaw pieces, even if it felt sometimes as if those pieces had to be jammed together – because they were a family.
Lately, though, it’s felt like the pieces are all from different jigsaws, like the time Ana tipped out all the boxes onto the living room floor. That evening, Frank had come home from work to find Carly staring down at literally thousands of pieces, from all the puzzles they owned.
‘I don’t think I can sort these,’ she admitted. And she’d started laughing and Frank had teased her that of course she could separate out all the pieces. Because if anything could be sorted, Carly could do it.
