She shook her head. ‘You’d better pull yourself together, Pippa.’ She ran upstairs to the living quarters and the home she’d always known above the pub. Her father was asleep in his armchair soundly snoring with an open suduko book on his lap and his pencil still poised between his fingers. Her aunt was heading for the door as she walked in.
‘How did things go with Declan? I was just coming down.’
‘Fantastic. He’s just finishing the preparations for tonight. I’ve come up to grab Ginger and take him with me to buy some dog bowls.’ On hearing his name, Ginger leapt to his feet from his cosy spot between Brett’s feet. He bounded over to Pippa, barking. ‘Shhh, you’ll wake dad.’
‘Too late. I’m awake.’
‘Sorry dad.’
‘Where’s Marie?’
Pippa’s eyes widened, and she looked across to Morgan. Morgan smiled sweetly at Brett. ‘You’ve just woken up. You’re all disorientated. Did you have a dream about Marie, dear?’
Brett blinked his eyes and then stared straight ahead, as if comprehending where he was. He looked over at Pippa and Morgan and blinked again. ‘Oh. Yes, I did. It was a wonderful dream. We were at the community bar-b-que. Marie looked so beautiful. She was standing next to Phil and Jenny, and Pharis was taking their photo.’
Pippa remembered the poster Pharis had given her. She hadn’t told her father or Morgan about it in case it upset them, but this was the perfect opportunity to reveal it.
‘I have something to show you both. Pharis gave it to me the other day.’ Pippa rushed into her bedroom and quickly re-emerged with the cardboard cylinder. She prised the lid off and pulled out the poster. She placed the cylinder down and unravelled the poster, holding it up.
Brett gasped and Morgan did a little happy chuckle. ‘That is exactly what I saw in my dream. Oh, I do miss her.’
Pippa heard him stifle a sob. Her stomach instantly contracted into a tight ball. She quickly passed the poster to Morgan and ran over to her father, flinging her arms around him. ‘I really miss her too, dad, and if truth be told, that’s why I moved out. It was just too painful being here without her. I’m so sorry I abandoned you.’
Brett patted his daughter. ‘I know Pip. I knew that was the reason. You didn’t abandon me. You were here for the first twelve months, but then you had to do what you thought best. I was perfectly happy with your decision to move out.’ He chuckled. ‘Heck, most kids move out as soon as they can.’
Pippa did a small laugh. ‘I was spoilt. I had a wonderful family and I didn’t want to leave.’
Brett laughed lightly. ‘We are a good family aren’t we? Your wonderful aunt, bless her, she’s been my backbone ever since we lost your mom.’
Morgan swept his compliment away with a flick of her hand. ‘Get off with you, Brett. You and Marie have been a shoulder for me to cry on plenty of times. Yes, you are right, we are a good family. We’re here to help each other—through thick or thin. That’s why you’ve never been able to get rid of me... Now, I’m off downstairs before my mascara grows legs.’
Pippa looked up to watch her aunt leave with a smile of affection spread across her face. She looked back down at her father and kissed the top of his head. ‘She’s right, dad. Just like Aunt Morgan, I’m here as long as you need me.’
Brett reached up and cupped Pippa’s cheeks. ‘Thank you, my darling girl.’
Ginger whimpered and barked. Pippa straightened. ‘Okay boy. We’re done with the mushy stuff. I know it upsets you. Come on. Let’s get your lead on and go shopping.’
Brett chuckled.
***
Pippa felt as if aweight had been lifted from her shoulders as she walked to the local hardware store.
If old Po didn’t sell dog bowls, then she’d have to drive out of their small town to one of the horrible retail parks with the huge pet stalls that were killing small businesses and communities by undercutting them, just because they could buy in bulk.
Pippa was amazed so many small businesses in their town still kept going. She supposed that was a credit to the community spirit she thought was dwindling. She kept her fingers crossed old Po had dog bowls. Po sold everything—he always had done.
On her very first trip to the shop with Brett, when she was just a small child, she’d been amazed by the twigs he’d sold in a pot on the counter. Po had given her one for free, stating it was healthier to chew on the stick than a sweetie. She’d remembered how odd she thought Po was, handing out twigs instead of sweets. That was until her father said it was okay to accept it and try as the twigs were natural roots. She couldn’t believe it when the twig root had tasted exactly like liquorice.
Pippa walked into the shop and it was like going back in time. Not a thing had changed. Stainless steel pots were still strung from the ceiling in the centre of the room and stock was strategically placed alongside a natural walkway to the counter. As she made her way to it, she passed piles of welcome mats, stacks of buckets, bundles of broom sticks. You named it and it was sold at Old Po’s. There was so much to see. It was as if she were in a museum for hardware. ‘Hello?’
She heard dragging feet and then the small bent over frame of Po came shuffling out from a back room. He lifted his crooked neck and looked under the brim of his flat cap. ‘Hello. Can I help you?’
Pippa’s heart melted. Like Ben the fisherman, Po hadn’t changed a bit—well apart from the fact that he looked two feet shorter, or was that because she had grown? She did a quick recall of the last time she’d been inside the shop and was astonished to remember it was in her early teens when her mother had sent her to fetch a new mop and bucket.
Pippa’s smile spread across her face. ‘I really hope you can. I’m after dog bowls.’
Po lifted his cap and scratched the top of his head in thought. ‘Dog bowls, eh? I think I’ve still got some, although the young folk prefer to get fancy ones these days from those superstores. What they don’t realise is, those big stores only care about the profit. They don’t care about the customers so much.’ Po shuffled slowly out from behind the counter and Pippa followed him as he made his way over to a corner of the shop. ‘If my memory serves me correctly, they’re here somewhere.’
