I take a seat in the green plastic chair Mum has pulled over to Dad’s bedside for me, next to hers. She takes my hand and squeezes it. And we look at Dad’s expressionless face, at the closed, lined eyelids that don’t look like his at all.
‘Don’t worry.’ I nudge Mum. ‘He’ll be awake soon enough and making one of his terrible jokes.’
I look at Dad, hoping for a response. A small miracle. But there’s nothing.
Panic flutters in my chest. What if he never regains consciousness? What if we never even have a chance to say goodbye?
Beside me, Mum sighs. ‘You know, I’d moan about him telling the same funny stories to everyone who came to the house. What I’d give to hear one of his shaggy dog tales now …’
We make it through the night, taking it in turns to doze in the more comfortable, padded chair, and drinking scorching coffee in thin plastic cups in the bleak, unearthly hours before dawn when it seems as if we’re the only people in the world awake.
At around six, I fall into an uneasy sleep, slouched in the chair. And I’m woken by Mum’s voice calling, ‘Nurse! Nurse!’ followed by a sudden burst of activity around me. I sit up, startled, and see that Dad’s eyes are open. My heart lurches as I watch the nurse checking his vital signs, and I pray she’ll give us good news. Mum is gripping my hand tightly and watching with the same intensity.
The nurse turns and smiles at us, and a wave of relief floods through me.
He’s survived the worst. It was touch and go but it seems that for now, at least, we’ve been given a reprieve, the three of us.
My little family.
Still together …
*****
I stay in London for a week, taking the strain off Mum and Auntie June by sitting with Dad for hours at a time.
We talk about anything and everything, and once he’s sitting up in bed and more like his normal chirpy self, I break the news about Lucy and her rival café. He listens in silence as I describe the disaster of opening day at The Twilight Café, Lucy springing such a devastating surprise on me, and how Lucy & Olivia’s Clean Food Café has been in the local newspaper and on national TV, and how it’s been choc-full of customers practically every day since it opened.
He knows a bit about the retail trade, my dad, having run his country goods store for more than twenty years. When I finish my emotional tale, he takes my hand and says, ‘Those cut-price offers of hers will be squeezing her margins to practically zero. No business can survive long like that. She’ll go bust within six months. Unless she keeps on throwing Daddy’s money down the black hole.’
It sounds brutal the way he said it, but I know he’s just being really protective of me. And deep down, I hope he’s right.
The trouble is, Dad doesn’t know Lucy like I do. I got the upper hand when she plummeted into the trough at the charity run. Lots of runners must have spotted her up to her eyes in smelly green slime. I made her a laughing stock and knowing Lucy, I have an uneasy feeling there will only be one thing on her mind now.
Revenge.
Chapter 34
Sitting on the train as it speeds back to Hart’s End, I’ve got a bad case of butterflies in my stomach.
I’m both excited and nervous about seeing how Jake’s work is progressing on The Treehouse Café. Also, having left halfway through the charity run after receiving Mum’s desperate phone call about Dad, there are certain things I’m going back to that were left up in the air.
My dramatic confrontation with Lucy.
And the realisation that I’ve fallen for Theo Steel.
I feel bad for Jason. He seemed so certain we had a future together when he spoke to me so urgently at the start of the 10k. But although it felt lovely and familiar kissing my first love, it was nothing compared to the way I felt just being close to Theo – every nerve ending tingling, feeling fully, ecstatically alive …
When Theo sat beside me under the tree after my clash with Lucy, I knew without doubt that I was in love with him, but it was so bittersweet. I felt heady with the thrill of being near him but devastated at the same time, knowing there was no hope for us.
I’ve tried so hard over the past week to push him from my mind because there’s really no point. Theo seems to have this unshakeable belief that he’s cursed when it comes to people he loves, and I can’t imagine where I would even start trying to convince him he’s wrong. I’ve felt the sting of rejection by him several times already. I’m not sure I could bear it if it happened again …
It was hard saying goodbye to Mum and Dad, and getting on the train, because I wanted to stay and be there for them.
But just before I left, I went in to see Dad, who was sitting in his favourite armchair, watching an old episode of Inspector Morse. When I sat on the arm to lean over and hug him, he held me really tightly and said, ‘You know, love, the best thing you can do for your mum and me is to go back to Hart’s End, get The Treehouse Café up and running, and show that Lucy Slater how it’s done. Okay?’
I smiled at him. ‘Okay, Dad.’
‘And make sure Betty and Doreen are on standby because when I get home, I’m spending a whole day fishing on that riverbank. With you.’
I smile and nod, my throat closing up.
‘It’s been keeping me going ever since I’ve been down here,’ he says. ‘I’ve got the clearest picture in my head. It’s going to be dry and sunny with not a breath of wind to ruffle the surface of the water, and we’ll toast each
