James had spent almost a week with Spike, Kenny and the cats in his house. It had been surprisingly cordial, considering that his place was tiny and the cats had commandeered the sofa ninety per cent of the time. Trying to coax them off had annoyed his father so James had decided to let them be. However, five days after Christmas, he was faintly relieved this morning to hear that the thaw had finally come, and that today he stood a pretty good chance of being able to drive back to Burley Bridge.
He planned to stay with his father while he investigated all kinds of care in the area. He was prepared to stay a couple of weeks, maybe more – as long as it took, really. He was fine with that. Saying goodbye to Spike was harder, as he dropped him off at his mother’s place. James suspected that the real wrench for Spike was number one: saying bye to the cats, followed by number two: his granddad. James was wryly aware of where he stood in the pecking order, according to his son.
They were halfway home, and Kenny was dozing in the passenger seat when James’s mobile rang. He quickly checked the screen, saw that it was his brother, and pulled over at the next services so he could call back.
Rod rarely called him. It was usually James who was left to attempt to keep some line of communication going. ‘Rod?’ he said. ‘You just rang.’
‘Look, yeah – I wanted to apologise actually.’
‘Apologise? What for?’ What for exactly? was what he really meant.
‘Um, the thing with Dad. Leaving you in the lurch like that.’
For a moment, James was lost for words. More than two years had passed; his annoyance had faded away long ago. He had accepted that taking care of their father had become his sole responsibility. ‘Let’s talk about this some other time, Rod. I’m at a service station right now. I’m taking Dad home.’
‘Yeah, well, I’m coming back,’ Rod muttered. ‘I can’t stand it here,’ he added, in case James might have assumed he was only coming back to help.
‘Why? What’s happened?’
‘Oh, man – the rules out here,’ he drawled. He seemed to have affected some kind of accent. Perhaps he’d had a skiing accident and bumped his head?
‘What kind of rules?’ James asked.
‘Rules about everything,’ Rod declared. ‘This building we’re in – it’s no washing machine on after seven p.m., no running a bath after nine. God help you if you use a coffee grinder before ten in the morning or flush the loo in the night, and as for smoking – you’re not even allowed to do it on the bloody balcony, as if there’s a shortage of fresh air here. The place is like one gigantic blue-skied, breezy Alpen box! It’s like there’s too much oxygen. You need to smoke to dampen it down.’
James laughed, and not for the first time it struck him how similar to their father Rod was, and that perhaps he was more like his mother, a fact that, actually, he preferred not to dwell on too much. ‘But you’ve never stuck to a rule in your life,’ he remarked.
‘That’s not true,’ his brother said, aghast.
‘It is,’ James insisted. ‘And, look – they’re not the actual building’s rules, are they? It’s not Switzerland that won’t let you smoke on the balcony. It’s your girlfriend, isn’t it?’
‘Well, um, yeah. She’s a bit picky about certain things.’
‘So, it’s not the building you’re splitting up with, is it?’ James added. ‘It’s – what’s her name again?’
‘Livia.’
‘Right. So, when you are you thinking of coming home, then?’
Some kind of announcement blotted out Rod’s voice. ‘… I’m at the airport now.’
James frowned, and it dawned on him that he couldn’t have Rod turning up at their father’s place, simply because he had nowhere else to go. He glanced at his dad, who was still dozing.
‘Well, look – we can get together sometime soon, okay? But not right now. Don’t come straight to Dad’s.’
‘But I thought—’
‘No, Rod,’ James said firmly. ‘If you’re stuck, call Phoebe. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to have you back.’
After they’d finished the call he sat for a moment, wondering if he’d been a little harsh there – but sod it. He really couldn’t face his brother today. He sat for a few moments, twisting his phone about in his hands and finally he called Lucy’s number.
‘James, hi!’ There were street noises around her; perhaps she was in a hurry to be somewhere. He sensed that it wasn’t the best time.
‘Hey, Lucy. Just calling to catch up really. I wondered how your Christmas went.’
‘It was eventful,’ she chuckled. ‘I’ll tell you all about it when we meet up.’ She sounded happy to hear from him, at least. ‘Are you coming back anytime soon?’
‘Right now, actually. We’re on our way. I don’t suppose you’d like to grab a coffee or something later on?’ He realised now how very much he wanted to see her, and to tell her the secret he’d been carrying. He had to share it with her. He just hoped she’d understand why he’d kept it from her all this time.
‘I’d love to but I’m in Manchester right now. I’m just about to go into an interview.’ She paused. ‘Well, she says it’s not an interview – more of a chat. But they’re sort of the same thing really.’
It surprised him, how crushing this news was. ‘So … are you definitely moving back to Manchester?’
She hesitated again. ‘I … I’m not sure. I really don’t know what I’m doing right now, but I’m due in ten minutes. I’d better go.’
‘Well, good luck,’ he said.
‘Thanks, James. Bye!’ And she was gone.
He glanced at his father, figuring that they should be back in under an hour as long as no more snow came. James loved snow, he always had – but he wanted a clear run now as there was something he needed to do. But before he pulled out of the services, he played the voicemail message that had been left while he was driving.
Hello, James? It’s Phyllida here. Phyllida Somerville. As if his world was littered with Phyllidas. I wondered if you could give me a call please? As soon as you can. There’s something I think you might be very interested in. So do call me. Thank you. Bye.