“Thanks.”
“I’ll tell him to come in.”
Seph left and everything resorted to being quiet again. My eyes closed and I fell asleep, feeling more settled than I had done since I’d woken up yesterday morning.
* * *
Three days later and I was going home, home being the hotel and spa. The passenger seat was reclined and the man who had given me fifty percent of my genetic make-up was clucking around like a mother hen.
“Honestly, I’m fine.”
“I’d feel better if you were resting somewhere more private.”
“I’ve checked. There’s only two more rooms that are occupied for the next week, and one of those is you and Elsa.”
He shook his head, which translated asthat’s not the point. I ignored it because it wasn’t a battle as there wasn’t anything to fight over. He’d decided to stay until I was out of hospital, but I knew he’d been anxious about being away from Elsa, his wife of thirty years, so he’d booked a room at the spa where she was already. I knew she’d met Sophie. I knew from my dad that Sophie wasn’t going to leave until she’d talked to me and that she was okay. Okay seemed to be the only way to sum it up from what little he’d said.
“You’re still going ahead with buying the house you wanted?” It wasn’t the first time he’d asked me that.
“Yes, and the hotel where we’re staying too.”
“For Sophie?”
“If that’s what she wants.”
‘What about what you want, Liam?”
“I want a recording studio and rehearsal rooms. With a view and somewhere to relax afterwards where there’s no media around. I’m not fussy about the layout or what goes where.” That was the truth. Even though I’d rowed with Sophie about layout and colour schemes, I couldn’t give a toss about where bathrooms were, because all you did in them was either piss or wash. Ultimately, when she thought about it, she’d won every battle, in principle. I’d just won it later when we made up.
“Fair enough.” He slowed his driving. I clearly inherited his boy racer genes, although they were more Sunday driver.
“Elsa really likes her. Says she’s very real. Down to earth. And apparently she really knows about skin care for the mature woman.” There was a snigger at the end of his sentence.
“You didn’t call her a ‘mature woman’ did you? Even I know not to do that.”
Andrew – my father – laughed. “I used a better phrase. We’re here.” He pulled up into the car park. “You have the same suite you had before. Sophie’s in it too. I can either book you another, ask her to move to another or leave you to it.”
I noticed the way he was trying to look after the situation, probably the first opportunity he’d had to help me, outside of giving me a lift with having a shower in the hospital.
“Leave us to it.” And that was all I wanted to happen. We needed to sort this out as much as we could. As little as I knew about relationships, I got that they could be unpredictable.
“You got what I gave you?”
“Yep.”
“You know you don’t have to use it if you don’t want.”
“Yep.”
“Throw me a bone here, Liam. I have three daughters. You’re my only son. It’s the only chance I have of trying to pass on advice without someone laughing at me.”
I managed not to laugh. “I got it. See how it is. It’s there if I need it.”
“Good. I’ll see you later. You need help getting to your room?”
I shook my head but my legs were shaky when I got out of the car. I’d been told to take things easy, which was fine, I could do that, but I wasn’t making myself feel worse. I’d never relied on anyone, never wanted to.
Until now.
