Page 39
Story: The Secrets of Harbour House
‘Thank you.’ I gave him a smile. His face lit up and my heart jumped, reminding me how I felt about him.
He was my dream. Clever, good-looking and devoted.
I never worried that there was someone else.
He was always either by my side or working.
I couldn’t want a more loyal partner. He was here even though he hated it.
This was all good. I was overplaying his interference. It came from a place of concern.
He picked up my hand. ‘I’m here for you. I’m sorry I haven’t come before now.’ He gave it a squeeze. ‘It was wrong of me. I didn’t see all you were trying to carry. There is no need for you to do this on your own.’
I took a deep breath and made myself relax. I’d been overreacting earlier.
‘That’s better. I can see my girl again.’
‘Thanks.’ It would be good to share my worries. ‘It’s been hard.’
‘Tell me all about it.’
‘There is no money.’
He blinked.
‘None. We’ve had to raid Mum’s Premium Bonds to pay her carer.’
‘She won’t need a carer for long.’
‘Seriously, Paul, Mum talks a great game.’ I stopped.
She didn’t talk well, which I now realised was not simply the stroke but the dementia too.
That also explained some of her odd comments.
‘That’s not the right expression. Her speech is better, but she isn’t doing well, as the fall last week showed.
She will need a carer long-term, especially because of the dementia.
’ I stared at him and he looked down at his hand holding mine.
I waited to see if he would say anything.
Maybe he didn’t know? That was possible.
‘Surely she’ll get one through the health services.’
I cleared my throat. ‘That will take time, and up until now it hasn’t been necessary, but with Dad . . .’
‘Yes, I see where you’re going with this. But she will rally.’
‘I wish you were right, but she won’t. It’s past that now, and as much as I don’t want to accept that, I’m going to have to.’
‘Look, I’m sure you’re just emotional at the moment and your vision is clouded.
’ He looked up. Two plates of food were making their way towards us.
One was a salad and the other was a big fat cream bun.
My mouth watered at the sight of the salad, and I couldn’t believe how thoughtful he’d been to get me something even though I’d said I only wanted coffee.
He indicated to the waiter, who gave him the salad and put the cream bun in front of me. I froze.
Once he had left, Paul smiled at me. ‘You looked like you needed a treat.’ He started to tuck into his salad and I glanced at the bun. My stomach gurgled loudly. He looked up. ‘See, I was right, you haven’t been eating.’
I couldn’t deny that meals hadn’t been regular, but I ate when I was hungry, and right now my stomach was making its thoughts about the bun clear. I picked up the cutlery. Just a small piece of it would tame the animal within, and I would have a sandwich with some nutrition in it later.
‘That’s better,’ he said as he watched me try to cut into it. ‘Why don’t you just pick it up and eat it all. You know you want it. You don’t have to pretend with me.’
I cast him a furious glance and continued trying to ease my way through the bun. The knife was little more than a straight edge.
‘Being here has not done you any favours. You need to finish up and come back to London. We’ll find a place to put your mother into and all will be well. Cornwall is not good for either of you.’
I stopped trying to cut the bun and stared at him.
‘In fact, I’ve spoken to your mother about this.’
‘What?’
‘Yes, she’s been worried about the stress this is putting you under. She’s noticed that you’ve lost weight and even mentioned that you were drunk one night.’
I pushed the knife down hard, and cream shot out and hit him. I sat back, stifling my laughter. From the horror on his face, you’d think he was covered in blood. His bright blue cashmere jumper looked like it had fluffy clouds all over it. I handed him my napkin.
‘That’s no bloody good. No bloody good at all.’ He stood and went to the counter. The man there ushered him into a back room, and he returned with his jumper damp but clean. I schooled my features into a straight face. All I wanted to do in that moment was tell Tash.
‘I’ve paid the bill. We’re leaving now.’ He took my arm and marched me out of the café.
The walk to the car was accomplished at speed. I needed to be at the house when that painting came off the wall. There was just enough time to drop him at my mother’s house, but I didn’t want to leave them alone together after what he had just said.
‘You could apologise.’ He glared at me.
I opened my eyes wide despite the bright April sunshine.
‘You nearly ruined my jumper.’
‘I didn’t ask for a cream bun.’ I unlocked the car and opened my door.
He hadn’t replied, and it crossed my mind that I could drop him at the train station, but I knew that wouldn’t solve my problem.
He’d simply call my mother and take a taxi there.
There was only one thing I could do. I would bring him to Harbour House, then later have a long-overdue face-to-face chat.
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