‘Hmm…’ Ed feigned taking a moment to consider her request. ‘It’s still a no, I’m afraid.’
‘What? As kisses go, I reckon that gets a good eight out of ten.’
‘I’d have to agree with that; I’d even nudge it up to a nine. You’re still not getting a word out of me, though.’
‘Gah! Spoilsport!’ She wriggled out of his arms. ‘In that case, all kisses are off until further notice.’
‘Harsh!’ he said, them both laughing.
‘S’just me,’ Florrie called as she stepped into the hallway of her childhood home, its familiar comforting smell curling around her nose. Usually on a Sunday the air would be filled with the rich aroma of her mum’s delicious roast dinner, but not today. It acted as a reminder that her dad was feeling unwell and, no doubt, off his food, which was most unlike him.
‘Hello, lovey.’ Her mum appeared around the kitchen doorway, looking pleased to see her daughter, a tea towel thrown over her shoulder. ‘That’s good timing, I’m just making a cuppa, d’you have time for one?’
‘Love one, thanks, Mum.’ There was always a pot of tea on the go at her parents’ house.
‘So you all had a lovely time salsa dancing, then?’
‘We did, thanks, though you and Dad were missed by everyone.’ Florrie bent to unfasten Gerty’s lead, the Labrador trotting off in the direction of thekitchen. ‘How’s Dad?’ she asked, straightening up and hooking the lead over a peg next to the coats before slipping her jacket off and hanging it up.
‘He’s had a lie down and is looking a bit brighter, which is good. Said he fancied a cup of tea and a plain biscuit.’ Paula headed towards Florrie, hugging her warmly and pressing a kiss to her cheek.
‘So, what’s up with him? It’s not like him to be poorly.’
‘I know.’ Paula’s brow crumpled with a frown. ‘Said he’s been feeling dizzy which has made him feel sick, described it as being like carsickness.’
‘Oh, poor Dad, that sounds awful.’ Florrie followed her mum down the hall. ‘Mind, much as it’s a shame you missed the salsa lesson, I’m not sure it would’ve been a good combo for him with it involving a fair bit of spins and turns.’
‘That’s what we thought, too.’ Paula stopped outside the living room door. ‘Two ticks, lovey, I’ll just fetch the tray with the tea things. You go and see your dad,’ she said, nodding in the direction of the living room.
There, Florrie found her dad stretched out on the sofa, a pillow puffed up behind his back and a fleece blanket over his legs. ‘Hi, Dad, how’re you feeling?’ she asked, injecting a cheery note into her voice. She was struck by how pale he looked, with not even the slightest hint of his usually ruddy cheeks. And the last time she’d seen him with such dark circles under his eyes was when her mum had been so very poorly and the worry was eating away at him. It felt strange to see him incapacitated like this. He was always fit and healthy; never still, always had to be busy doing something. Her mum regularly said he had ants in his pants. His job as a builder meant he’d always been toned and muscular. And he never usually ailed anything worse than the occasional head cold.
‘Hello, love, it’s grand to see you.’ He pushed himself up on his elbows, giving a watery smile. ‘I have to say, I’ve felt better. If I stand up, I get that dizzy, I end up walking around like I’ve had an afternoon session at The Cellar, guzzling a load of Micklewick Mischief. Even turning my head makes me feel right rotten.’
‘That doesn’t sound good, Dad.’ From his description, Florrie didn’t think he’d picked up the stomach bug Lark had mentioned.
‘I’ve been making him ginger tea, which is good for settling dicky tummies,’ said her mum, who’d joined them, setting a tray of mugs down on the coffee table beside her husband.
‘Aye, but it does nowt for dizzy spells,’ added her dad.
‘It’s been going on for a few days, so I’ve made him an appointment at the doctor’s.’ Paula went to puff up the pillow behind him.
He huffed out an impatient sigh. ‘I don’t know why you’re making a fuss, love. You know I’m not happy about wasting a doctor’s appointment on me. I’ll be right as rain in no time. Like I keep saying, it’ll just be something I’ve picked up somewhere and not worth fussing over.’
‘Typical man.’ Paula shook her head and rolled her eyes.
‘It’s not a waste of time, Dad. You can’t go to work, climbing ladders or using heavy equipment or machinery if you’re feeling dizzy. It’s dangerous.’ Though she felt strongly about getting her point across, Florrie wasn’t keen to dwell on the thought of her dad putting himself at risk at work, knowing he was the sort of man who didn’t like to let his clients down, and would push himself to ensure jobs were finished on schedule. Chas Appleton & Son Traditional Builders was a third-generation building firm that had an excellent reputation in Micklewick Bay and the surrounding areas, and it was one that Charlie had strived to continue.
‘That’s exactly what I’ve been telling him,’ said her mum. ‘See, Charlie, our Florrie agrees.’
‘Aye, well, I’ll go, see what the doctor says. Hopefully, she can give me summat to put me right and stop you fretting about me and pouring this ginger tea muck down my neck.’ Though he was joking, his reply seemed to satisfy his wife and daughter.
Florrie stayed at her parents for an hour, chatting over a cup of tea, refusing the offer of a biscuit. She was still so full from her Sunday dinner, she couldn’t imagine ever feeling hungry again. She shared all the details from her afternoon with her friends, her parents listening in disbelief as she told them about Gabe Dublin.
‘I’m right sorry I made us miss it, lass.’ Charlie threw his wife an apologetic look. ‘You’d have had a whale of a time.’
‘Hey, no need to apologise, you weren’t up to it, love.’ Paula reached over from the armchair beside him and patted his hand.
Florrie was glad to see a sparkle had returned to her dad’s eye. She’d been right to call in on her parents, it had eased her worries, seeing that her dad wasn’t as ill as she’d convinced herself he was.
