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“Not really. People are messy.”
“It can’t all be about working, Charlotte. There’s time to find someone special, sweetheart.” Her mum squeezed her leg. “Don’t leave it too long though. I want grandchildren running around before my knees need replacing.”
Their laughter rippled into the sea air. Charlie didn’t want to think about settling down with anyone’s baggage. She had a case to argue and that was complication enough. “Will Dad be back by now? I want to say goodbye before I head off.”
“I should think so. Let’s go and bother him.”
They walked towards the backlit windows of the house and entered through the kitchen door.
“Time for goodbyes already, Sherbert?” Her dad swept Charlie into a hug. “Call me soon with tales of the city. I miss it a bit.” He laughed.
“I have no tales, Dad. I stay in like a good girl.” She smiled widely.
“Ha, I doubt that, missy. Don’t let those tricky cases leave their mark. You work far too hard.”
“Thank you for lunch.” She looked out the window towards the jet-black sea. “I needed some fresh air and a decent meal.”
“Glad to have you, sweetheart.”
He wrapped her in his arms, and she lingered for a few seconds, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.
“What’s your mother been chewing over?” He drew back and started to empty the grocery bags onto the kitchen counter.
“She’s worried about you.”
“I’m fine. Your mother worries about me too much. She frets over little things.”
“I worry too. Aren’t you bored out here?”
“Of course! That’s the point of retiring. Slow down, tinker, embrace the silence, have a glass of something, and start again tomorrow.” The lines of his face creased a little deeper. “I’m okay though. I enjoy it. The peace is quite restorative.”
This time, Charlie wasn’t convinced by her dad’s usual optimism. He’d retired at the top of his academic career and that had to sting. She’d feel like she’d lost a limb if it was her.
“Mum said you’d been feeling a bit down. Have you seen the doctor?”
“I see the doctor all the bloody time. Blood pressure, cholesterol, sugar. It’s all through the roof.” He laughed and patted his smooth palm on her cheek. “Trivial. Nothing to be concerned over. You, or your mother.”
Charlie perched on a stool to tie her bootlaces while her father unpacked a rainbow of fresh vegetables.
“Tell me. Are they treating you well at the chambers?”
“I’m getting decent briefs. I won an award last month for upcoming talent or something.” Charlie made a half-hearted attempt to downplay it, but she’d gone after that accolade, and she knew he’d be proud.
“You did, you clever thing. Mum showed me the photo. Very good. Did you have to prop up the old guys at a fancy awards dinner?”
“Yes, it was unpleasant. But the wine was free.”
“That always helps.”
“The Capri still going strong I see.” He nodded towards the driveway to her car.
“She is. I look after her,” Charlie said.
“You always have done.”
She and her dad had spent hours together in their old garage, tinkering with his modest collection of classic cars. She’d been over the moon when he’d handed over the keys to the Ford Capri when they’d moved to the coast.
“Dad?”
