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Chapter 12
Callum opened the door to the kitchen and stopped abruptly in the doorway. It wasn’t just the décor that had had a makeover. The kitchen looked brand new, like something out of a home catalogue, or his nice rental apartment in Malibu. Fresh modern white gloss kitchen cabinets, inbuilt appliances and a warm wooden worktop had replaced the old eighties oak kitchen that had been there since they had moved there when he was a young child.
He made a cup of coffee and walked down the hall into the lounge, halting in the doorway. The room had also had a makeover, with the décor, soft furnishings and wall-mounted television bringing the room into the 2020s.
Callum sat down on the new sofa and imagined that when he went upstairs, the bathroom and bedrooms would have had a makeover too. He cast his gaze around the room and wondered where his mother was getting all the money to spend on the house – and on herself. Callum hadn’t seen her in several years.She was slimmer, and her outfit looked as though it came from a designer shop, not a high street store. Her hair fell in thick auburn waves past her shoulders, and she looked like something out ofHollywood Wives.
He did feel more than a twinge of guilt that with all the money he’d earned over the years, he hadn’t passed any their way – apart from birthday and Christmas presents. And he had told his father, the last time they’d spoken, that if he ever needed anything, he should just ask. He had also offered to buy them a bigger house somewhere they’d like to spend their retirement, but they had never taken him up on the offer, and then he had squandered all his money on himself and on a house and friends he couldn’t afford.
He wished theyhadagreed; then perhaps there would be something to show for all those years in LA apart from the farm he’d saved in Suffolk.
Callum sat looking around the lounge he didn’t recognise, drinking coffee from an expensive coffee machine, and listening to the banter next door. He couldn’t wait for them all to leave.
As if reading his mind, he heard chairs scraping along the wooden floor, and footsteps in the hall. A couple of the guests looked in to say goodbye. Eileen said, ‘Now, when is your show coming back?’
Callum frowned. For one thing, although he was one of the stars, it wasn’thisshow. If it had been, he wouldn’t have cancelled it. Although now he thought about it, Callum realised that, if it weren’t for the money, after nine seasons, he’d actually had enough. Enough of LA, of his co-stars and their histrionics, and especially of the crazy long days.
Perhaps even if he’d been able to afford a return ticket, Callum would still only have bought a one-way ticket back to Scotland. Deep down, he felt that although it was all he’d ever known – modelling, and then acting – the reality had never lived up to the expectations of what he imagined his life would be in Hollywood; he wasn’t fulfilled or happy.
‘Eileen, next you’ll be asking him to let you in on what’s going to happen in the next season,’ said one of the passing group members.
‘But I was only asking—’
‘Now, why don’t we leave him in peace? He said he was tired after his long-haul flight.’
‘Jetlag,’ said a third as they glanced at him, smiled, and said their goodbyes.
Callum rose from his seat with the empty mug in his hands and waited for them to leave. He heard the sound of the front door closing as he walked out of the lounge. His mother put the latch on the front door and turned around. She didn’t rush forward and give him a hug to welcome him home. She frowned at him and repeated her question. ‘What are you doing here?’
Callum sighed. ‘I told you.’ He wasn’t surprised by her frosty demeanour. It was just the reception he had been expecting. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about Dad?’
She sighed too. ‘How did you find out?’
‘What do you mean, how did I find out? Weren’t you going to tell me?’
‘I knew you’d be upset.’
Callum looked at her stunned. ‘Well, of course I’d be upset. It’s my da. I missed the funeral, didn’t I?’
‘What funeral?’
Callum looked at her. ‘What do you mean,what funeral?Dad’s, of course.’
‘What on earth are you talking about?’
Callum stepped forward. ‘What areyoutalking about?’
‘Why, putting your father in a home, of course.’
Chapter 13
‘His dementia is getting worse. I had to do it.’
Callum thought of the text message from Jack. He’d assumed the worst after reading it.
‘But you didn’t tell me you’d put him in a home.’
‘What could you do about it, thousands of miles away? In fact, what can you do about it now that you’re here?’ She looked him up and down. ‘What exactly are you doing here? Has the season wrapped?’
