‘But once I retire, we’ll probably get rid of one of our cars and just have the one between us,’ Bridie had overheard him say on her last visit months earlier.
Bridie was just about to head out when she had a thought; she’d better tell them where she was going and when to expect her back.
She sighed, rolled her eyes, turned on her heel and approached the lounge. The door was closed. She was about to walk in, thinking that at some point that morning she must phone her grandad and check he was okay, when she overheard Mum say, ‘I think it’s for the best.’
Bridie sighed at the thought that they were talking about her again. They were no doubt saying that she was only in her thirties; she had time to change direction and get a ‘proper’ job.
‘I would have liked him to come to my retirement party.’
Bridie knitted her brow. The party was meant to be a surprise. How had Dad found out?
Mum. Bridie guessed it was very difficult for couples to keep secrets from one another, no matter how well-intentioned. The party was going to be there at the house, so how her mum had thought she’d be able to shop for all the party food and get things organised without her dad suspecting something, Bridie had no idea.
‘I know you’d like to mend bridges, Rufus …’
‘We’re not getting any younger.’
Bridie nodded at the door. She agreed with her dad. That was what she wanted too. She thought her dad’s retirement party might be just the opportunity for them to put the past behind them.
She wondered if they’d spoken to her grandad that morning, or rather, if her mum had – her dad wouldn’t have. It would put her mind at rest if someone had been in contact with him afterhe hadn’t arrived home before she’d left for Suffolk the previous day.
She felt guilty for listening in on their private conversation, but she couldn’t help herself. Perhaps they’d reveal what exactly the estrangement was all about. Instead, the conversation took a surprising turn.
Her mum said, ‘I think it’s for the best he’s not coming.’
‘You did invite him.’
‘Of course, Rufus. I spoke to him this morning. I just got off the phone with him, I told you. He rang because his neighbour, Mrs Hughes, mentioned that Bridie had arrived at his flat with her suitcase, and he was out, and she missed him, so he was trying to contact Bridie with no luck.’
Bridie frowned. He hadn’t phoned her that morning – had he? Bridie got her phone out of her pocket and rolled her eyes. She’d forgotten to charge it. Her mobile had died. Damn!
Bridie’s dad said, ‘I bet she had her phone switched off or on silent in case that idiot of a fiancé tried to phone her. How did my dad know what had happened to Bridie?’
‘He didn’t. Not when he first phoned. I filled him in.’
Bridie glared at the door. It was not that she minded her parents talking about what had happened – she would just rather it had come from her so she could sugar-coat it, and her grandad wouldn’t worry too much.
Her mum continued, ‘She must have gone to the apartment building last night first, presumably to stay with him after what happened.’
‘Now that doesn’t surprise me. Those two have always been as thick as thieves.’
There was an awkward pause before her mother continued, ‘Turns out a neighbour took her in for a cuppa. Mrs Hughes.’
‘Where was he then?’
‘At a show with his friends.’
‘Figures. He’s always at a show.’
Bridie nodded and managed a smile. Yep, that was her grandad.
‘Waste of time building that granny annexe. He’ll never come and live here with us.’ Bridie could hear the annoyance in her mum’s voice.
‘And you know why?’ Rufus chipped in. ‘There are not enough local theatres around here. He’d get mighty bored.’
Bridie was still smiling. They knew him well. She was relieved that she didn’t have to worry about him. Now all she had to worry about was what they’d told him about her. And she still felt it was unfair that the party would go ahead without him.
She was about to walk in and have it out with them when her mum said, ‘I still think it’s for the best that he’s not coming to the party. You can make it up with him, mend bridges afterwards. But at the party, we don’t want him to say anything … out of turn.’
