‘Grandpa Steve?’ I laughed.
‘Your Grandpa Steve was my Mr Groats,’ Dad said darkly. ‘That man never forgave me for that – or for the time I leant against his Morris Minor.’
I chuckled, and Dad laughed guiltily. ‘Bless ’im… grumpy old arse. Anyway, by the time Mr and Mrs Groats came outside to shout at me, I was hosing out the peonies – which I think got me a little leeway. But they chased me off and I ended up sending a letter instead. Which I think went over well… she agreed to see me anyway, and then, I apologised again and told her that I didn’t deserve her, that I regretted that night more than anything else in my life and that, if I got a second chance with her, I wouldn’t need a third, because I’d never risk hurting her again.’
‘Awww, Dad.’ I reached over and patted his arm. He looked quite bleary-eyed and I wondered if he was going to cry – something I’d only seen him do twice. Once when Granny Grey died and once when he put a full tank of petrol in our diesel car while we were on holiday in Wales.
‘Ah, pssshht!’ Dad waved me off, still very pink about the cheeks. ‘I was a soppy idiot about your mum. Still am. But she took me back and I didn’t drink again until the night we got engaged. Just to prove to her I was serious.’
I thought of Richard and his apologies. He’d told me that the other woman, the one I’d caught him with, meant nothing. Less than nothing. I’d even said back to him that he’d thrown me away for nothing. He hadn’t been drunk on a night out. He’d been sober, in the middle of the day, in our home. Dad had done everything he could to make it up to Mum but, most importantly, he’d given her space. He’d sent a letter and waited for her to reach out. Richard had kept hanging around, waiting like a vulture for me to be defenceless.
Worst of all, Dad had promised to never risk losing Mum again, and had stayed sober for a year and a half. Richard was lying to me again less than a week after I took him back.
‘Tabby?’
I looked up and found Dad looking at me seriously. ‘It’s up to you if you want to take Richard back. Not me and not your mum. I know she’s… very keen to see you married and everything, but it’s up to you. She only wants it so much because she thinks that’ll make you happy. That’s all we want really – for you to be happy.’
‘And you’ll be okay with him if I do take him back?’ I asked.
‘If Richard makes you happy, that’s all I need to know,’ Dad said.
The TV resounded with cheers and cries of ‘GOAL! but Dad didn’t glance its way. He squeezed my hand.
‘Do what makes you happy – and we’ll both be happy for you.’
I leant over for an awkward armchair hug, and Dad patted my back firmly, like he was trying to make me cough up a Starburst that had gone down the wrong pipe.
‘Now, are you sure you won’t stay for lunch?’ Dad asked.
That reminded me. ‘No, I really can’t fit a whole roast right now. By the way, Mum said to tell you there are no pigs in blankets.’
Dad inhaled sharply. ‘Bollocks!’
Chapter 29
Ileft the shedchuckling but, by the time I reached the back door to the kitchen, I was anxious again. I’d realised while talking to Dad that most of the pressure on me to stay with Richard was pressure I’d put on myself. My parents loved me and would support me no matter what I decided to do. In theory. In practice, all I could think of as I approached the house was that Mum was going to be so disappointed.
I opened the door and stepped into the steamy, chicken-scented kitchen. Mum was at a chopping board, peeling the film off a frozen apple crumble. Double dessert, she was really trying to make up for those missing tiny sausages.
Should I tell her now that I was thinking about breaking up with Richard again? I decided that would be a bad idea. She could easily make me doubt myself again. I needed to make my mind up first. It wasn’t like she’d do it on purpose but, just because she was so sure, that made me feel uncertain. It had always been that way. When I was eight and had no clue how to roller-skate, she’d talked me into going to a roller-disco birthday party. I’d been going back and forth on the invite for weeks, but Mum was so sure I’d enjoy it that I ended up going. Less than an hour in and I’d fallen over and cut my head open. The worst part was I hadn’t even been having fun before then. It was like Mum thought, if she could just push me enough, reality would warp and her assurances would become truth. If she just kept saying ‘You’ll have a great time!’ or ‘He’s so charming!’, that would make it so.
I never felt sure about anything really – my GCSE choices, boyfriends, hair styles, whether I was a dolphin girl or a horse girl. I was always struggling with decisions and working out who I was, except when it came to the shop and crochet. I’d been very clear on that goal and had kept it as a dream for years before going for it as soon as I had the money. I wanted to follow that feeling more. Even if things were difficult at the shop right now.
‘Are you off, love?’ Mum asked, fluffing the boulders of crumble with a fork. ‘There’s plenty if you want to stay for dinner.’
‘Sorry, can’t. Maybe next week?’ I said.
‘Okay. Anyway, I expect Richard’s taking you out somewhere nice to celebrate all the good news – you two getting back together and starting a business. Seems like he’s really turned over a new leaf.’
‘Mmm,’ I hummed, thinking that really Richard had dropped his ‘new man’ act fairly quickly. The last time he’d cooked had been that lasagne several days ago, when I’d had my fight with Emma. Since then, he hadn’t so much as made me a cup of tea. I wondered what Mum would say if I told her that, if maybe she’d agree with Dad then that I should do what made me happy instead of clinging to what wasn’t working. I wanted to believe it but, as much as I knew she wanted what was best for me, I wasn’t sure if she was ready to let go of Richard and what he represented yet. I knew what that was like.
Feeling distinctly guilty about all my half-truths, I gave Mum a hug, refused her parting gift of two ‘mostly good’ courgettes and a cauliflower, and made it out to my car. It was only a temporary deception, I told myself. Next time I saw her, I’d be certain in my choice and able to defend it.
I checked my phone. When I saw the text notification from Richard, my heart sank. Internally, I immediately felt a powerful urge to scream ‘go away!’ at my poor innocent phone. That was probably a sign that I should break up with him. A big one.
I tapped the notification anyway.
Hey Tabs, sorry for late notice but going to a bit of a thing at the golf club. Back late. Save me some dinner, yeah?
