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He saw what was happening out of the corner of his eye. ‘What the hell ...?’ He slammed on the brakes. She almost lost her balance. He wound down the window. ‘Oh my god, what has got into you? Mum – let go!’
For a moment, there was a stand-off. She reluctantly let go of the handle. Callum eyed his mother, and thought of what his father had made him promise to do. Did she know something?
‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on?’ He stared at her a full minute, and then watched her back away from the van. ‘Go, then,’ she said sullenly. She turned her back, strode back into the house, and slammed the front door behind her.
Callum stared after her, wondering if he should pop into the house before he left and find out if she was all right and what the scene in the street had been about. As he sat there debating what to do, he caught curtains twitching in neighbouring houses.
Callum decided that if he didn’t go straight away, he’d end up handing over the keys. He could see his mum standing at the front room window, watching him. He waved, and sighed when she didn’t wave back. Even if he’d told her that he might be returning without the campervan, he didn’t see what the big deal was. In fact, he’d be doing her a favour. She could put her new car in the garage.
It occurred to him that if he sold the shop, he’d pay her back the value of the old campervan. It wasn’t worth much. What he couldn’t do, though, was repay the sentimental value. He imagined that was what her behaviour was really all about; it was the reason she hadn’t touched the study when she had the place redecorated. Soon, there would be nothing left of his father – the dementia would make sure of that – and all she had to hold on to were these few things: his old study with the books and bookbinding equipment – and this van.
Thinking of that, Callum came to a stop at the end of the cul de sac. He had half a mind to turn it around and put it back in the garage. He sat there for some time, torn between his mum and the promise he’d made his father. What if his father’s request was just the ramblings of a confused old man? But he had the old wallet, and the photo; that was something. And for some reason, his father wanted those girls to have the van. Before he did anything, Callum decided he was going to see his father again and find out why.
Chapter 17
‘I’ve never seen those before in my life.’
Callum had the deeds to the shop in one hand and his father’s old wallet in the other. He sighed heavily, and tried again. ‘Dad, remember earlier today, I came to see you? You gave me these keys and told me to go home and find your wallet.’
‘I did no such thing. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Callum put the wallet and deeds on his father’s lap and sighed. Then he had an idea. He opened the wallet and got out the photo of the two girls. Perhaps it would jog his father’s memory. ‘You made me promise to give the girls the campervan. Is this them?’ He held up the photo. ‘And is that the bookshop –yourbookshop? Who are they? Why do you want me to find them and give them your campervan?’
Unexpectedly, his father burst into tears.
Callum looked at him, shocked. He’d never seen his father cry. ‘Oh, no. Dad, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.’
His father covered his face with his hands and sobbed.
Callum sat down next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. He’d read about this. Dementia could cause changes in personality, changes in mood. ‘Dad?’
The door to the room suddenly opened. A young care assistant pushed a trolley inside. ‘Oh, dear, Henry. It can’t be as bad as all that.’
Henry looked up and smiled at the young woman with the bright smile and bubbly personality.
‘There you are. Now, you haven’t had your medication today, have you?’
Callum watched her pass him two pills and a little disposable cup of water. ‘Down the hatch.’
Callum frowned. ‘What are you giving him?’ He didn’t want to think they were keeping him sedated, so he drifted through his day drugged up, docile.
The young woman looked at Callum and smiled reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry. We don’t drug him or anything like that, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s just a very mild anti-depressant to keep his mood up and help with anxiety and depression – something quite common in people with your father’s condition. It’s prescribed by the GP.’
‘All right,’ said Callum watching his father take the pills.
The young care assistant stared at Callum. ‘I recognise you.’
Callum bit his lower lip. He had hoped she wouldn’t. Next she’d be asking when the next season of the show was starting. He’d thought that when he returned to the UK he wouldn’t have this – being recognised wherever he went. It hadn’t started off well. He’d barely landed when he was recognised in the airport queue.
‘Oh, my god. Itisyou.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
She glanced at Henry and shook her head. ‘Sorry for the outburst – that wasn’t very professional of me.’
‘That’s all right. But you’re confusing me with someone else.’ Callum didn’t make a very convincing liar. He sighed, and gave in. ‘Would you like my autograph?’
‘Oh, my god, really? My friends are just going to die when they find out I met you.’
