‘Evening. And who are we today, the plumber or the deliveryman?’ The carer he’d met before greeted Luke with a wry smile as he walked into the day room.
Luke smiled tiredly back. ‘God knows. The villain of the piece, I’ve no doubt.’
‘It’s a wonder you don’t have an identity crisis.’ The woman’s smile was now sympathetic.
‘Yeah.’ Luke sighed. After the things he’d been accused of, the things he’d done that he’d never imagined he was capable of, he definitely had one of those. ‘Is it all right if I go up?’ he asked, noting that Bernard didn’t appear to be around.
‘Feel free.’ The carer nodded him on. ‘I hope you get a better reception than you did last time.
Luke doubted he would. Whoever Bernard got it into his head he was, he didn’t rate him. He never really had; more tolerated him because his daughter had foolishly fallen in love with him. Would he be glad they’d split up, if he was capable of understanding? Probably not, for Claire’s sake, but Luke suspected he wouldn’t have lost any sleep over it.
Knocking on Bernard’s door, he waited a minute and then went on in. Unusually, Bernard wasn’t in his armchair. Instead, he was standing in the bay window, gazing out at nothing. It was pitch black outside.
‘Hi, Bernard.’ Luke offered him a smile as the older man turned to face him. ‘How are you doing?’
‘Have you come to replace the bulb in the bathroom?’ Bernard asked, narrowing his eyes as he ran his gaze over him. ‘Because if you have, you can inform your manager that I’ll be registering a complaint. It’s been two days since I reported it, and it’s just not good enough.’
Luke blew out a weary breath. ‘No, Bernard, I haven’t. I’m not the electrician. I’m Luke, Claire’s husband. Remember?’
Bernard frowned, his face etched with confusion.
‘Though possibly not for much longer,’ Luke went on hesitantly as Bernard walked past him, still eyeing him suspiciously, and lowered himself into his armchair. ‘We, er… She thinks I’m having an affair.’
Bernard’s frown only deepened. He didn’t answer, reaching for his remote control instead.
‘I was wondering whether you might have some advice you could offer me. As a man of the world, I mean,’ Luke pushed on, hoping that Bernard might dredge up some scrap of information from his past that would give him a clue what was going on. ‘I imagine you’ve probably had the odd fling, and I—’
‘I’ve done no such thing!’ Bernard blustered, rising from his armchair so fast, Luke took a step back. ‘How dare you come in here and make such accusations. Who do you work for?’
‘Whoa.’ Luke held his hands out in an attempt to placate him as Bernard advanced towards him. ‘I’m not making accusations, Bernard. I just wanted to chat, man to man. ‘It’s just that Claire mentioned—’
‘Claire? Claire who?’ Bernard demanded, his face puce. ‘One of the staff, I suppose. Nothing better to do with her time than spread malicious gossip. Where is she?’
‘Bernard, wait.’ Luke circumnavigated him as he whirled around to stride towards the door. ‘She’s not here,’ he said, massaging his forehead in frustration. This was hopeless. He wondered what the hell he’d been thinking. He was desperate to establish if there was any truth in this half-sister thing, his gut instinct telling him that Claire might be in danger of some sort. Bernard, though, didn’t know what bloody day it was, let alone who his daughter was. Or daughters. If he had had an affair, he would probably take that secret with him to the grave.
The older man looked confounded now, his eyes downcast as he grappled for his memories. Luke couldn’t help thinking he would be better off out of his misery than live a life like this. He supposed the one consolation was that he didn’t have to live with the consequences of his actions and the misery he might have caused other people.
‘She doesn’t want you,’ Bernard said suddenly, his eyes hardening. ‘She never did. So why don’t you just piss off.’ He stepped threateningly towards Luke.
‘Don’t, Bernard,’ Luke warned, reaching for the door behind him, his shoulders tensed. ‘Just back off, okay.’
Who didn’t want him? he wondered, bewildered. Had Bernard been talking about Claire? Or was this someone from his past he’d clearly thought was worth fighting over?