The House We Grew Up In (38 page)

By the end of the first day, they had filled both skips to the absolute limit and yet barely got halfway through the kitchen. The sun had blazed unforgivingly, more like August than April. ‘Do you remember,’ Meg had asked her father at one point, ‘that Easter before, when we were small, when it was hot? Do you remember the Easter eggs melting? And the paddling pool popping?’

Colin had nodded and smiled, sweat rolling down his temples, a dusty box of tea lights in his hand, and said, ‘Of course I do. It was one of those times. Those golden shiny times. When nothing could possibly go wrong.’

They sat now, the three of them, around Lorelei’s table in the garden, drinking Coke and letting the sweat dry on to their bodies.

‘When do you have to go back?’ asked Colin.

‘Bill and the boys get back next Monday. Monday week. School goes back on Tuesday. So in theory we could stay for two weeks. But hopefully not.’

Megan thought about the boutique hotel, the £180-a-night bedroom. She’d packed fresh bed linen and pillows into the boot of her car. She’d brought soap and flannels and towels and shampoo. She’d thought that within three or four days she’d be checking out of the hotel and moving into the Bird House. She’d thought it was a matter of a bit of sorting and chucking. She’d had no idea. Absolutely no idea.

‘Come back to the hotel,’ she said to her father. ‘Come and have a proper bath. And we’ll have a nice dinner somewhere.’

Colin looked at her gratefully. ‘Thank you, darling,’ he said. ‘That would be lovely.’

The three of them ate together at a seafood restaurant in the village. It was chi-chi with dove-grey walls and prices written on the menu in fractions. Molly had ordered a tuna steak and was eating it like a man.

‘That was the hardest day of my life,’ she said, pushing her cutlery together and swinging her hair behind her shoulder.

‘Plenty more where that came from,’ said Megan.

‘We need more people.’

‘Well, actually,’ said Megan, ‘even if we had more people, there’d be no room for them.’

‘No, but outside, in the garden, to go through things. That’s what’s taking the time. Sorting everything out.’

‘I just wish we could bin the lot,’ sighed Meg.

‘No way,’ said Molly. ‘That’s, like, her whole life in there. In amongst all the rubbish. Imagine if we threw away something really important.’

‘I know,’ sighed Meg. ‘I do know that. It’s just so infuriating.’

‘We could still get the council in, you know,’ suggested Colin.

‘No.’ Megan shook her head. ‘No. I’m not having anyone we don’t know in there. It’s our house. It’s our life. No way.’

Colin nodded. ‘I do agree with you,’ he said. ‘It would feel wrong, somehow.’

His phone rang and he pulled it apologetically from his jeans pocket. He began talking sweetly into his phone and Megan assumed it was Tia. ‘Hello, sweets,’ he was saying. ‘Yes, we’re all fine. No, not the boys, just Molly. Yes, the big one. She’s sixteen.’ He looked to Meg who shook her head and mouthed,
‘Fifteen.’
‘Sorry,
fifteen
. Yes. I know. Yes, she’s very pretty.’ He smiled at Molly as he said this. ‘Erm, yes, please, darling, thank you.’ He paused for a moment, as Tia apparently passed the phone to someone else, and then he laid his napkin on the tabletop, smiled at Meg and Molly and took his phone call to a quiet corner of the restaurant.

‘Why has Grandpa gone over there to talk?’

‘Because he’s talking to Kayleigh.’

Molly nodded knowingly. ‘I’d like to meet Tia,’ she said a moment later.

‘Yes,’ said Megan. ‘I know. And you will. One day.’

‘Yes, but when? I mean, I’m like, nearly an adult. I’d like to meet her while I’m still a child.’

Megan smiled. She sighed and said, ‘Yes, definitely. You’re right. It’s crazy. It’s just, you know, not talking to Grandpa for so many years. It’s all been rather complicated. But definitely. Now we’re talking again. Now I know …’ She paused, sorting her thoughts. ‘Now I know that he’s still just my dad,
we’ll sort something out.
I’ll
sort something out. We’ll go over. To Spain. Or something. I promise.’

She covered her daughter’s hand with hers and thought of Tia. Her beautiful lost niece. And she was just one piece of the puzzle. One tiny piece.

‘Maybe she’d like to come to London,’ said Molly. ‘Maybe she’d like to come and stay at our house. She could sleep with me. If she liked.’

‘Yes!’ Megan beamed and squeezed Molly’s hand. ‘Wouldn’t that be lovely?’

‘Sorry about that,’ said Colin, retaking his seat.

‘That’s OK,’ said Meg. And then she took in a deep breath and prepared herself to say something unnatural. ‘How is she?’ she asked. ‘How’s Kayleigh?’

Colin looked at her with some surprise but then smiled and said, ‘She’s grand. She is. She’s good. Really good. Yes …’ He petered off, aware that this was a new and slightly awkward development.

‘How’s her business?’ Meg forced it out. She had to. They were here now. They were a father and a daughter having dinner together. They were part of the same world again.

Colin’s face lit up. ‘It’s great!’ he said. ‘She’s ever so good at what she does, you know. She really, really is.’

‘Good,’ said Megan, ‘that’s good. And does she ever … do you ever …’ Megan held her breath, considered her next question. ‘Will you have another baby?’

Colin laughed. ‘Oh, God, no!’ he said. ‘No, no, no! We did talk about it. A long, long time ago and we both realised it was just, well, a step too far.’

Megan looked at him questioningly.

‘Well, for Tia. I mean – how would that have been for Tia? A brother or sister who was also her aunt or uncle. Or, God,
whatever
. The technicality of it has always slightly eluded me. But no. A huge age gap. A cultural divide. I felt, we
both
felt, that there were quite enough challenges to be going on with. So, yes, Tia is my granddaughter and Kayleigh is my partner and we shall leave it at that. As awful as everyone thinks it to be.’

Molly stared at the table and said, ‘I don’t think it’s awful.’

‘Don’t you?’ said Colin, with a soft laugh.

‘No! I think it’s just, you know, it’s life, isn’t it? All these years I’ve just thought it was kind of gross, and I mean, I, personally, would not want to go out with my child’s grandfather. But maybe I’ll end up doing something else unconventional. Who knows. And I really hope that if I do, and as long as I’m not hurting anyone or doing anything, like,
illegal
, that everyone would accept it, you know, just carry on loving me anyway.’

Meg and Colin exchanged a look. A look that said, ‘
Dear God, what a bloody mess we’ve all made of everything
.’

Then Megan’s phone ding-donged and she switched it on to find a text. It was from Bethan.

I’m here. I’m staying with Sophie. At Vicky’s old place.

Megan switched off her phone and let her head drop on to her chest.
Fine
, she thought to herself, breathing in deeply,
fine
. ‘Beth’s coming,’ she said, forcing out the words. ‘She’s coming to the house tomorrow.’

‘Yes!’ said Molly. ‘Yes!’

Meg smiled grimly at her and in a small, dry voice she said, ‘Hurrah.’

Beth sat at the table in the garden. It was just before nine o’clock. She already had a faint sheen of sweat upon her brow. She ran her hand up and down the cool sides of a bottle of Evian. Sophie had given it to her from her fridge that morning. Sophie had been so sweet to her, mothering her almost, even at twenty years her junior. ‘
Make sure you drink tons
,’ she’d said, looking at Bethan with concern. ‘
You mustn’t get dehydrated. It’s forecast to be thirty degrees today
.’

She’d given her a bag of yogurt raisins and a banana and sent her on her way.

On the street outside, Beth heard the clank of heavy chains. She got heavily to her feet and peered out. It was the truck, come to replace the skips. Pulling in behind the huge vehicle was a people carrier, one that Beth recognised from her last visit to London. She pulled herself straight. She adjusted her smock top and wiped a glow of sweat from her upper lip.

Megan slammed her door shut, beeped the car locked and turned to see Bethan standing there.

‘Oh, my God!’ she said, her eyes locked upon Beth’s stomach. ‘Oh, my God. Beth!’

Beth waited, rooted to the spot. She could not, for some reason, make the small movement that might propel her towards her sister. Instead she nodded and stroked her belly, waiting, as ever, for her sister to do the thing that needed to be done.

Megan walked towards her, her eyes still on her bump. ‘My God, Beth, how far gone are you?’

‘Thirty-two weeks,’ she said. She was blushing. She didn’t know why.

‘And they let you fly?’

She nodded. ‘I had a letter,’ she said, ‘from my doctor.’

She saw Meg’s eyes scan the fingers of her left hand. ‘Wow,’ she said, that one syllable full of a hundred questions. ‘Wow.’ She brushed the side of her face against the side of Beth’s face, vaguely, as though she’d met her only once before.

Beth saw Molly step out from behind Megan, and she smiled. ‘Hello, Molly!’ she said, swallowing a gasp of amazement. Her niece looked like a model. All legs and hair and perfect feline features.

Molly came towards her and embraced her. Then she rested a hand on Beth’s tummy and said, ‘A cousin!’

Beth could see that Megan was surprised by her daughter’s actions. So was she. ‘Yes!’ she said. ‘A girl.’

‘A girl!’ said Molly, turning to face her mother. ‘Did you hear that? She’s having a girl.’

‘How wonderful,’ said Meg, and Beth could not tell if her words were genuine or facetious.