‘No, I’m happy to be close to civilisation. Even the toughest of us like to have a hot shower every now and then.’
‘That we can provide, Guy! Help yourself to the facilities, and come and go as you like. We don’t bother with keys or any of that nonsense. Is there anything else I can do for you?’
I pick at my croissant, not sure if I’m impressed or horrified at how efficiently my dad is taking control. No, that’s not quite right – taking control sounds too negative, and nothing he is doing, nothing he is offering, is anything other than kindness.
‘Not right now, sir, thank you. Is there anything I can offer in return? I’m good with practical things, not bad with engines, happy to provide free labour, anything that’s needed.’
‘First of all, you can stop calling me “sir”. I used to be a teacher and you’re giving me flashbacks! George will do just fine. As for the free labour, there’s always something that needs doing around here – I’ll check with Connie when she’s back later.’
‘Same goes for me, Dad,’ I add in quickly. ‘You know I don’t do well if I’m idle. I’ll start writing bad poetry or paint the bedroom black. Anything you need a hand with?’
‘Probably, yes. I… What have you been up to recently, Suzie? You’ve had so many jobs I lost track!’
This is not a dig. It is not a passive aggressive insult, nor is it a criticism. My stupid brain wants to interpret it like that, but I refuse to engage. This is my father, asking a simple question. One that he has every right to ask.
‘Well, like you say, Dad, I’ve had a lot of jobs. Tour guide, barmaid, noodle chef, dog walker, fruit picker… All kinds of delights. But most recently, before I started back home, I spent three years in India volunteering at a school.’
His face lights up, and he immediately exclaims: ‘Teaching! Oh, how wonderful, Suzie – I bet the kids loved you!’
I smile as I remember my time there, the happy faces and laughter, the sense of celebration that they always seemed to have, no matter how hard times were. I remain convinced that some of those kids have enough attitude and determination that they may well go on to run the world.
‘I definitely loved them. So I’m okay to help out with anything to do with kids. And even though it might be a lot less useful, I can teach yoga and give a fine Thai massage.’
My dad looks delighted with all of this new information, and it suddenly strikes me that it’s the same expression I saw on Guy’s face when my father was talking about Miranda. He is devouring the crumbs.
‘Well, you two sound like a useful pair indeed. I’m sure we’ll have tasks for you. But for now, why don’t you go and show Guy the facilities? I have a hot date with a black Lab, and a coffee morning planned with our local GP.’
‘Why?’ I ask quickly. ‘Are you not well?’
‘I’m absolutely splendid, my dear. She’s a friend, that’s all. A busy lady, but we always make time for each other. Shall we meet later, maybe for dinner?’
Dinner is hours and hours away, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s happening here. George is giving me space, trying hard not to make me feel crowded or trapped. I hate that he feels that way, but I have to acknowledge its wisdom.
‘Aye aye, captain,’ I reply. I look at Guy, then gesture towards the stairs. ‘Let’s be having you, Grandad!’
Guy shoots me a look, and I feign innocence. ‘What? Youarea grandad – just stating the facts!’
I show him where the bathroom is, which of course he’d have been perfectly capable of figuring out himself, and also the spare room. I find some towels in the cupboard, and then sit on the bed with a sigh.
‘You okay?’ he asks, raising an eyebrow.
‘Yes. No. Not sure.’
‘Ah. Right.’
He sits next to me, his eyes roaming the room. It still shows signs of its previous life, a My Little Pony poster on the wall and a small selection of children’s books on the shelves.
‘It’s all so solid, isn’t it?’ he says, gazing up at the ceiling. ‘This place. These houses. It all feels so permanent. Not what we’re used to.’
He has a point, and it’s probably why I prefer spending time in trees than indoors.
‘No. Not what we’re used to. But… I feel like I’m at a crossroads, Guy, to be honest. I got sick, while I was away – nothing serious, just one of those bugs that lays you low. I was out of action for almost a month, and even though everyone was really kind to me, I realised that I felt vulnerable. I felt like a burden on the people I was supposed to be helping. It was… humbling, I suppose.’
‘Made you wonder what the future might look like?’
‘Exactly that!’ I say, grinning at him. ‘Ten points for the fellow screw-up in the corner! It made me start to question myfuture. What I really wanted from life, the choices I could make. It was the beginning of a very long, very slow journey home – because even though I kind of knew I was heading here, I was too stubborn to admit it. So I spent months in Europe, visiting friends I’d made over the years who’d settled in various cities, doing my version of a grand tour. Doing whatever I could to delay the inevitable, because I was just a tiny bit scared of coming home. Of how he’d react, how others would react.’
Guy nods and stands up. ‘He seems to have reacted well. You’ve been thinking too much.’
