Charlotte walked quickly into the hall and stopped the first nurse she saw, pointing her towards Amalie’s room, but she didn’t follow her. Instead, Charlotte leaned against the wall, tipping her head back and taking a moment to close her eyes and process everything Amalie had told them.
No matter what they might have thought, she knew in her heart that Amalie was telling the story of the greatest love ofher life, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for what was to come next. Her heart was already breaking for Amalie, and she could see that the more she talked about Oskar, the more painful Amalie seemed to find it. She knew her grandmother was finding it hard to sit there and listen to a part of her own mother’s life that she’d never known anything about.
Charlotte didn’t know if it was being with the two women or the emotions of it all—perhaps both—but since arriving to see Amalie all she’d been able to think of was something Harrison had said to her about visiting her father before it was too late.
She took a deep breath and pushed off from the wall, taking her phone out of her pocket and staring down at it. Charlotte looked up her father’s number, something she hadn’t done in years now, and decided to send him a message.
I’m in Oslo and thought it would be nice to meet. Could I come by the house and see you, or we could have lunch? Charlotte
She pressed send before she could change her mind, staring at the screen and immediately seeing little bubbles appear, indicating that he was typing back. But as quickly as they appeared, the bubbles disappeared, and she pushed her phone back into her pocket, telling herself she wouldn’t stand around and stare at it, waiting for him. She’d sent the message, she’d reached out, and now it was up to him. She would look at her phone again later.
Charlotte forced her feet to take her back in the direction of Amalie’s room, knowing that her grandmother would be wondering where she was, when her phone pinged in her pocket. And, of course, despite her best intentions, she quickly looked to see if it was him.
Lovely to hear from you. Come round tonight if you’re free? I’ll organise dinner for us.
She took a deep breath. Whether she was ready or not, it was time to see her father again.
When Charlotte arrived on her father’s doorstep with a bottle of wine in hand, she felt more like she was going to a dinner party at an acquaintance’s house than visiting her family home. She was almost surprised he still lived here and hadn’t sold it to buy something smaller, and she realised then that she hadn’t even thought to ask him or her grandmother whether he’d moved or not. She just presumed he was still here, or they would have told her otherwise, and she hoped she was right when she lifted her hand to knock.
When the door opened, she stood almost frozen, but he immediately closed the space between them and gave her a hug. It was a little awkward, but she returned it, grateful that he’d been so quick to embrace her.
‘Charlotte! It’s so good to see you.’
‘You, too, Dad,’ she murmured into his shoulder, as he slowly released her.
‘What brings you back to Oslo?’ he asked as he ushered her inside and took her coat.
‘A job, actually,’ she said. ‘Have you seen the new hotel in the city? Down by the water?’
‘I certainly have; everyone’s talking about it. Stunning architecture, if you ask me.’
Charlotte smiled. She hoped she remembered to tell Harrison that when she saw him next.
‘You’re here for an interview, or have you already got the job?’
‘I’ve received an offer, but I’m still thinking it over,’ she said, glancing around and seeing that much had stayed the same. But things had changed, too. The photos of her and her brother were still placed everywhere, but the sofas and the dining table were new.
A wave of nostalgia hit her as she thought about their old dining table; the little scuff marks on it from when she and her brother hadn’t been careful enough; the nights they’d spent eating family dinners. She still had memories of her mum sitting there, entertaining them with stories about what had happened that day and making them all laugh, her father bringing dinner to the table and wondering what was so funny. But that was before.
‘So you’re still enjoying your cooking?’ he asked, taking the wine from her and walking into the kitchen.
Charlotte took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm.Cooking. He’d always referred to what she did as cooking, as if she pottered away in her kitchen at home. But she was not going to argue with him, not tonight.
‘I’ve actually been offered the role of executive chef at the new hotel,’ she said, following him and watching as he poured two glasses of wine. ‘It’s a pretty big deal.’
When he passed her a glass, his eyes met hers, and she saw something there that she hadn’t seen in a very long time.
‘I’ve followed your career, Lotte. I know how successful you’ve been in London.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You have? I presumed that you didn’t even know what I was doing. You always refer to it as justcooking, so…’ She took a sip of her wine.
‘I’m impressed with what you’ve done, and your brother is always regaling me with tales of how wonderful you are. I’m sorry if I didn’t use the correct terminology, or it implied I wasn’t proud, because it certainly wasn’t my intention.’
He couldn’t have surprised her more if he’d tried, and a glimmer of hope lit within her.
‘That means a lot, more than you can imagine. Thanks, Dad.’ Tears prickled her eyes but she blinked them away.
She took a sip and wandered with glass in hand to the table. ‘I like what you’ve done with the place. It’s nice.’
