Page 156 of The Man Upstairs


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Chapter Thirty-Eight

Rosie

It was such a familiar feeling,opening the door to Mum’s place and stepping inside. The instinct was to sayhey, Mum, I’m home, but I had to stop myself. This wasn’t home anymore. My home was upstairs.

Heart to hearts could never be more powerful than the one I’d had with Mum just over a week ago. Since then, we’d been spending time together whenever we could around her work, and my revision. I’d told her my story, and she’d told me hers, and here I was. It was time to meet my mum’s new partner.

I was excited to meet Tom and see how happy they were together in person. I had more faith in him than in anyone else she’d called herboyfriend, and I didn’t even know him. The look in her eyes was different when she spoke about him. The glow around her was natural, and grounded, with nothing fanatical about it. Nothing but respect and quiet love.

I was smiling brightly as I stepped into the living room to see him there next to her on the sofa. He looked way older than I’d have thought – completely grey with some wrinkles around his eyes, but that made no difference. His eyes were so warm.

“Lovely to meet you, Rosie,” he said, and stood up to shake my hand, but fuck that. I was growing bolder at expressing my feelings by the day.

I pulled him in for a hug.

“Lovely to meet you, too. Thanks for making my mum so happy.”

He chuckled. “No need to thank me for that. Your mum makes me a lot more happy than I could ever make her, that’s for sure.”

Somehow, I wasn’t quite so sure as he was. He was making Mum the happiest woman on the planet, besides me. She was grinning when he took his seat back next to her. She took his hand as I sat in the armchair across from them, and gave a little squeeze. He squeezed hers back, and I realised that I was coming to read the tiny things in relationships that make them so special. Looks between couples that say the unspoken. Shared jokes. Shared stories. Knowing each other and showing it in tiny gestures.Loving gestures.

Yeah. I already knew I was going to like Tom. I could feel it.

I knew Julian would like him, too.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Tom said.

“Ditto. Mum hasn’t stopped talking about you. I even know what cereals you like.”

He laughed back. “You’re a muesli girl yourself now, aren’t you?”

“Yep. Chocolate hoops have no place in my life anymore.”

Neither had plenty of other things. Not least Scottie and the fear that despite everything he was going to worm his way back into Mum’s heart somehow, but there would be no chance of that.

I hadn’t known she’d called the police on him, finally. I’d had no idea they’d arrested him in Wrexham and taken him in for questioning – finding a whole load of drugs on him when he was put into custody. Served him right. There was no way he’d make it out of there now. Not on any count. Mum’s evidence was just too extensive, and drugs possession speaks for itself.

I settled down in the chair a little more, ready to get a sense of Mum’s new boyfriend myself. I wanted to hear it in his own words.

Tom told me how he’d crossed paths with her when he was out shopping with his daughter in town, and Mum was crossing the street with Trisha and Ramsay. He was grinning from ear to ear as he told me how he’d plucked up the courage to ask her out after their long conversation, and I smiled along with him. I’d heard this story from Mum’s side, and hers was just as happy. She’d told me about her nerves when she realised just how much she liked him, and worrying like hell he wouldn’t feel the same. It was Trisha who had convinced her, actually. Trisha, not me, who’d been close enough to assure her she was worth it.

And here he was. Here with her now. Devoted.

I loved the outcome, and the boost it had given her self-esteem, but Mum’s confidence in herself was growing all by itself, too. I could see it. The pride she felt in standing up and putting Scottie where he deserved to be was giving her a hell of a lot of faith in her own strength. Strength she’d never known she had.

“Tell me, then,” Tom said when we’d been talking awhile. “When will I get to meet the book hero, Julian? I’ve heard a lot about him, too.”

I couldn’t help but grin at Mum, loving how she’d have been singing his praises. Her feelings for him had taken as far a 180 as they could go.

“Later, if you like,” I said. “He’s making a risotto for dinner. You’d be welcome to join us.”

“I’d love to, but I’ve already baked a chicken pie for your mum.”

I smirked. “Yeah, Mum likes chicken. A lot.”

“Tom’s pies are the best,” Mum said, then looked at him with another squeeze of his hand. “Hiseverythingis the best.”

Tom kissed her hand, and it was so nice to see. They were loved up, but it wasn’t through rose-coloured spectacles. It was the joy in the caring of something so simple.The tiny gestures.

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