Travis had groaned with frustration when Freya messaged to say she had to stay at home for a family celebration. However, he had no choice but to be patient until she could come round that evening after work.
He wouldn’t be alone in the meantime. Seb was on the later shift at work and turned up at first light to help him carry on with the clear-up.
When they stopped for a brew, Seb answered a phone call and came back inside the shop, grinning from ear to ear.
‘What’s this?’ Travis said. ‘Good news?’
‘You could say that.’
‘Hot date with a roofer?
Seb laughed. ‘Almost as good. I’m quitting my job.’
Travis sucked in a breath. ‘And that’s good news?’
‘Yes, because I’m starting a new one in a week’s time. That was the music shop in Windermere. They’ve offered me the deputy manager’s job!’
Travis broke into a grin to match Seb’s. ‘That’s great news. I’m really pleased for you. How long have you been planning this?’
‘The owner was at the carol concert and he’s a regular at the mini-market too. So you see, my customer service skills haven’t gone unnoticed after all.’
Travis laughed, seeing his brother blossom under his very eyes.
‘I can also fit some gigs in around the job. Much as I was grateful for the mini-market job, I think I’ll be better at selling guitars than baked beans.’
‘I’m made up that things are working out for you.’
‘Yeah. They are.’ He shoved his phone in pocket of his overalls and looked serious. ‘I’ve also got another confession to make.’
‘Another one?’ Travis braced himself.
‘Remember the guy who was hassling me outside the church that night when Freya saw us?’
Once again, the hairs on the back of Travis’s neck prickled. ‘Fenno? Don’t say he’s been causing more trouble!’
‘Calm down. I told you he wasn’t a bad bloke, apart from dropping your camera which was an accident.’
Reining in his impulse to overreact, Travis said, ‘OK, so what has he been doing?’
‘He’s done nothing. He never did. It wasn’t him outside the church. It was Dad.’
‘Dad?’ Travis said, feeling his heart squeeze with shock. ‘Dad was hassling you?’
‘Yeah, and it wasn’t the first time. He turned up at the flat about six months ago.’
‘Does – does Bree know about this?’
Seb scoffed. ‘You’re joking! She’d have gone ape shit. As would you, if I’d admitted it was Dad who’s been causing trouble.’
Travis agreed, but was still reeling that Seb had shouldered the burden of the visit alone. ‘What did he want?’
‘What do you think?’ Seb rubbed his fingers together. ‘Money.’
Travis closed his eyes. Their father was predictable in one respect.
‘Of course, he didn’t say why he was here at first. He brought a pack of beer and got all matey. “How are you, son? Nice little flat, you’ve got, boy.”’ Seb gave a depressingly accurate impression of their father’s tone when he was trying to be ‘nice’, invariably when he’d wanted something or felt guilty for letting the family down again.
Finally, Seb sat down too. ‘I had to give him credit. He kept up the patter, said he’d been out of jail for a year and was in “gainful employment”, whatever that means in his eyes. I was almost beginning to believe it really was a social call. We were on the second beer before he asked for a loan.’
Travis could imagine how Seb had been given the glimmer of hope that their father might have changed, then had that hope destroyed. He’d been there himself, many times.
‘You haven’t got any money to lend him,’ he said quietly. ‘He must have realised that.’
‘I think he worked it out pretty fast when he saw the flat and found out I was working in the mini-market. He had a different tactic: he told me to ask Bree – and you.’
‘He is unbelievable.’ Travis gazed skywards, astonished at his father’s audacity – but why should he be so surprised?
‘I said I didn’t know where you were and I’d rather poke out my eyeballs than ask Bree.’
‘And?’ Travis said, thinking Seb had some balls to defy their father.
‘He was pissed off, of course. He called me a loser, a failure. He—’ The break in Seb’s voice showed his struggled to rein in the emotions he’d been through at the time. ‘He saw the guitar and asked me why I kept it when I’d never be good for anything more than stacking tins of beans on shelves.’
‘That’s more than he’s ever done! You virtually managed that minimarket and Freya’s told me you’re really great with people.’
‘I’ll admit I wasn’t in the best frame of mind and after he showed up. I felt like I’d been kicked when I was down.’
When Seb opened his mouth to protest, Travis held up his hands. ‘I’m sorry you couldn’t even tell me he’d called on you. More than that, I’m gutted I called you “hopeless.” I’ve wished the words back every day. No wonder you were so upset.’
Seb stepped forward. ‘C’mere. Let’s have a manly hug before I change my mind.’ He embraced Travis and slapped him on the back, before stepping back, a little sheepishly. ‘I’m over it and now all we have to do is get your life sorted.’
Travis covered his delight at being hugged, with a grin. ‘No need to worry about me,’ he said airily. ‘I’m fine. The gallery will be ready to reopen by the end of the week, thanks to everyone lending a hand.’
Seb rolled his eyes. ‘I didn’t mean this place. That’s easy to fix. I meant we have to get you sorted, Trav. You and your love life.’
‘What love life?’
‘Exactly. What’s going on with you and Freya? You’re at war with her, then you’re shagging her and she’s round for Christmas dinner and then you’re both stalking around the village like the sky fell in.’
‘It’s complicated.’ Travis thought about the previous day, the rush of emotion he’d felt when Freya had bust a gut to help him. How he’d felt when she’d dragged him back from the fire … None of those feelings were mere gratitude.
‘Not from where I’m standing. I know there’s history between you but bro, I’m gonna tell you something she didn’t want you to know. It was Freya who encouraged me – or you could say, blackmailed me into playing at the concert.’
‘Blackmailed?’ Travis gasped in astonishment. ‘How?’
‘I sold my guitars to pay you for the camera.’
‘Sold them? Oh Jesus. No! You shouldn’t have done that.’
‘Don’t stress. I got them back because Freya loaned me the money to buy them back from the music shop. I thought she wanted me to work for her in return but she made me play at the gig instead. To be honest I didn’t want to, but my arm was twisted. She said it would mean a lot to you and the best way I could make it up to you for trashing the camera.’
Still feeling sickened that Seb had sold his precious instruments, Travis was trying to take in the subterfuge that had been taking place under his nose – and what the people he loved had done for his sake. ‘And you agreed?’
‘Yeah, because she was right and I like her and in the end, I couldn’t resist the chance to perform. She knew that. As you know, she can be very persuasive when she wants to be.’
Heart swelling with emotion, Travis couldn’t deny it.
‘Thing is, she didn’t do it for my benefit. Not completely anyway. She did it for you so I guess that means that she cares for you, bro. And I tell you this. If you had run into that fire, I’ve a feeling she’d have run right after you.
‘So, may I respectfully suggest, dear brother, that you stop pissing about and find her and tell her how you feel about her before I drag you round to her house myself.’
Travis raised his eyebrows, secretly impressed. ‘Wow, is this you’re managing me? You’re bossy. Where did you get it from?’
Seb shrugged. ‘No idea. I’ve done what I can. If you want to piss your life away because you’re too scared to take a chance, then do it. It’s your funeral. Talking of which, I’ll have shoot off soon. I’ve got a sound check at Raffaello’s ready for the gig tonight.’
‘I’ll be there,’ Travis said, still in shock.
‘OK but you’d better be there with Freya, or I’ll never speak to you again.’
Travis carried on working, waiting and hoping for a message from Freya until dusk fell. It was snowing, coating the rubbish in the skip with a thin film of snowflakes. He slung some empty paint tins on top and decided: he would go round to the Cottage Angels office himself – and damn what anyone thought. He had to talk to Freya now.
First, however, he had to lock up, not that anyone would bother wrecking the place again, he thought bitterly. He walked inside and started, as a grey-haired figure detached itself from the shadows of the gallery space.
‘Hello, son.’
‘Dad!’
His father flipped a thumb at the cleared space, now a shell again. ‘It’s not looking bad considering.’
‘Considering what?’ Travis said, braced for sneering.
‘Considering the last time I saw it.’
‘When it was fine. It’ll look like that again,’ Travis said, determined not to take any crap.
‘You mistake me. The last time I saw this place, it was going up in flames.’
‘What?’ Travis exclaimed. Freya had been wrong, his father must have torched it, no matter what the CCTV showed. ‘You were here? You hate me that much?’
‘Hate?’ His father screwed up his face in disgust. ‘I’ve never hated you. Any of you. I’ve only hated myself for being a failure. I’m sorry not to live up to your expectations but I didn’t torch the place. It was me who called the fire brigade.’
‘What?’
‘I’d been in the pub and came out for a smoke and the flames were flaring up in the window. I don’t know who shoved the fireworks through your door but it wasn’t me. I called 999 straight away. You can check if you want, because I gave my name.’
‘I didn’t know …’
‘Why would you?’ He held Travis’s astonished gaze. ‘You didn’t think I’d do something like this?’
‘No. No …’ Travis protested.
‘Come on. You did.’
‘I wondered after we’d had that dust-up but I … know it was an accident. The investigator told me it was kids messing about but you did break in the first time.’
‘I know. I shouldn’t have but I’d had a few too many and while that’s no excuse, I wanted to see what you’d made of the place, I wanted to see inside my son’s mind, I suppose.’
‘To be fair, you’ve never really been interested before, Dad,’ Travis said sadly.
‘Touché.’ He nodded at Travis. ‘We’ve had our differences but I’d never destroy what you’ve made here. I really did come back to see this place and yes, I was short of funds when I saw Seb. I should never have spoken to him like that. The truth is that I’m envious.’
‘Envious?’ Travis echoed in disbelief.
‘Envious of what you’ve done, envious of your talent and the way you stuck at it and made a success of yourself. Seb and Bree too.’
Travis scoffed. ‘Funny way of showing it.’
‘Yeah. You’re right. And don’t worry, I’m not going to hang around like the spectre at the feast. When I saw the place in flames for a moment I thought – you might be in there. Then I saw you haring up the street and I thought about stopping you myself and I would have, I swear, if Seb and Freya hadn’t beaten me to it.’
‘You were watching?’ Travis exclaimed.
‘Until I knew you weren’t going to do anything stupid and then I left cos I couldn’t do anything to help. I’ve never been much use, I’ve certainly never been a role model but I wanted to see you this last time to say I’m pleased for you and Seb and Bree – and if you’re going to get together with Freya, her too. What do I know about relationships?’ He laughed. ‘What do I know about “commitment” and “love”?’ He bracketed the words with a sneer. ‘Bugger all, but you’re not me. You never have been and you never will. I came to try and make some kind of peace but can see I’m wasting my time.’
He turned on his heel but Travis called out. ‘Wait, Dad. Stay. Talk to me. To Seb and Bree.’
His father smiled sadly. ‘No, son. I’ve said enough. You can pass the message on. I’m sorry and I’m proud of you all but you’re better off without me. I swear, I did try to be a normal dad. I tried to support you and make a decent life, or decent as I saw it. I’m not clever, not educated, I’m not one of these pen-pushers who can spend all day in an office … and I was never going to get rich by sweeping floors and mending roads. So I did it the only way I knew how and I failed.’
‘I can’t answer that,’ Travis said, weary of hearing the same excuses though realising that this was probably the longest – certainly the most profound – conversation he’d ever had with his father.
‘It’s too late for answers but I want you to know that I have got a job.’
Travis snorted, unable to hide his incredulity.
‘Don’t look so amazed.’
‘I’m not. OK, I am.’
‘I appreciate the honesty,’ he said wryly. ‘And for your information, it’s work in a fish market in Scotland – thanks to some ex-offenders’ charity my probation officer put me onto. There’s a room in a hostel too and I’m going to give it a go and try to live up the “ex” part for a change.’
He added a grin but Travis felt like crying, and didn’t know why. ‘Then, I wish you all the best. Truly.’
‘I know you do, and I appreciate it. Now, shall we shake on it and I’ll be on my way?’
Too choked to say much, he grasped his father’s hand, realising it was the first physical contact he’d had with him for decades. ‘Bye, Dad.’
‘Bye, son. Go well.’
That single brief moment of connection was gone, vanishing as fast as water over the falls. Travis clenched his fingers tightly, willing himself not to give way to the fresh loss he felt as his father walked out of the gallery and into the softly falling snow.