‘Hello, poppet,’ Frank said, holding out his arms for a hug.
Mia’s face lit up. ‘Dandad!’ she squealed, squirming out of Becca’s arms and reaching for Frank, who picked her up and clasped her to him. ‘How did you get here?’
He laughed. ‘I’ve always been here. You’re at my house.’
Mia looked surprised, then squinted at Becca. ‘How did that happen, Mummy?’
‘You fell asleep and we came in the car, and you didn’t feel even a little bit sick.’ Becca hoped this experience might help Mia to feel less nervous about travelling in the car in future, which would be a huge bonus given they’d be doing this journey for a little while until she could sort out alternative childcare.
Frank was jigging Mia up and down in his arms, clicking his tongue, pretending to be a pony as he trotted towards the house.
Kate had been right – Frank was delighted to see Mia, and Becca felt a new flush of guilt that she’d missed their visits the week before. Got to do better, she told herself as she grabbed her bag and followed them inside.
She found them in the lounge, a large, oblong room at the front of the house, still decorated to her mum’s taste: a neutral palette for the walls, floors and seating, with bright flashes of colour in the cushions and the rug in front of the fire. An excited Mia was already emptying a plastic tub of cuddly toys which had been set in the middle of the floor. ‘Mummy, there’s unicorns!’ she squealed. ‘And doggies and pussycats and—’ she turned towards Becca, her arms full of the little creatures ‘—there’s dinosaurs!’
‘Oh my God, I remember these.’ Becca laughed and glanced at Frank, who was sitting in his armchair next to the fireplace, watching Mia with a satisfied smile on his face. ‘Beanie Babies. These were mine, weren’t they?’
‘That’s right. Quite a collection.’ Frank perched on the edge of his seat while Mia carried on emptying the box, sorting the animals into different piles that only she knew the relevance of. ‘I remember when you were young, we used to go into town, and you’d have your pocket money, and the only shop you wanted to go in was the one that sold these little things. Took you ages to decide which one you wanted next, and they kept bringing out new collections.’ He beamed at her. ‘I wish I could have bottled the joy in your heart when you came out of that shop clutching your latest baby.’ His eyes glistened. ‘Priceless.’
‘Happy days, Dad.’ Becca bent to pick up a cat, which was battered and misshapen but had been her favourite and the hero of many a game of make-believe. ‘I thought these had been thrown out years ago.’
Frank looked at her, appalled. ‘God, no. I’d never throw anything of yours out. Not without asking.’ His expression changed. ‘Talking of throwing things out… We’ve been having a reorganise. Me and Kate. Or should that be Kate and me?’ He winked at Becca. ‘She likes to give me little jobs to keep me busy. Anyway, she got fed up of working in the dining room because I’m always disturbing her with the telly or playing my guitar, and her bedroom’s not big enough to get a desk in there as well as the bed and the wardrobe and whatnot.’ He sighed. ‘We had a bit of a set-to about it, to be honest, and she was all worked up because you hadn’t been over, and she felt everything was her responsibility.’ He pressed his lips together, frowning. ‘Anyway, long story short, she said it wasn’t working and she couldn’t stay here unless she had her own office, so I finally gave in and we’ve cleared out your old bedroom so she can use that. There’s a sofa bed in there for visitors, and like Kate says, it’s a waste just having it as a spare bedroom when she needs a proper office, and nobody comes to stay anyway.’
Was that a little dig? It felt like it.
Becca nodded, a little sad that she no longer had her own room in the house – the end of an era – but she could see that it made sense. Kate was doing her best to have a career and keep an eye on Frank, and Becca was grateful to her for her efforts. While Becca and Dean had still lived nearby, she popped in every day to help him sort out shopping and meals and laundry, practicalities he had no clue about. The problems had started when Dean suggested they move to Llandudno, to make things easier for his work. Once Becca wasn’t checking on Frank so often, it became obvious he wasn’t looking after himself properly.
At the time, Becca had thought that it suited Kate to move back from Manchester.
‘It’s only a temporary thing,’ Kate had said when she’d rung to tell Becca of her plans. ‘To be honest, I’m not enjoying work at the moment. It’s time for a change, and I owe it to Mum to make sure Dad’s okay.’
‘Oh, Kate, that’s so good of you. As you say, it’s just till he finds his feet again, and I’ll help as much as I can.’ Becca had made the promise in good faith, completely unaware of the exhaustion that would come from going back to work while caring for a baby. Needless to say, her input had been minimal, and Kate had been left with the lion’s share of the responsibility. Once she’d moved in, Frank hadn’t wanted her to go again, getting upset at the very mention of being left on his own. After declining three excellent job offers over the years, Kate’s temporary solution had turned into a permanent fixture. As had the edge of resentment in her voice whenever she and Becca spoke.
It’s only right she has a proper office, Becca told herself now, trying to remember what might be left in her old bedroom. If her cuddly toys had still been there, were there other things she’d forgotten about?
Frank stood and stretched his back. Mia was now sitting in the box, happily chattering away to an audience of new friends, oblivious to what was going on around her. ‘She’ll be fine for a minute, won’t she?’ He walked to the door and beckoned for Becca to follow. ‘Come on up, see what we’ve done.’
She followed Frank up the stairs and peered round the door of her old bedroom, a room she no longer recognised. Gone were all her posters and trophies from school, her nursing certificates and awards. Nothing of her remained on the blank white walls, or the swish new window blinds which had replaced her flowery curtains. Even the carpet was new – a corporate beige instead of the rusty red she’d once chosen herself.
‘Wow, a complete makeover,’ she said, the ghosts of her old furnishings still clear in her mind. ‘You got rid of my desk, then?’
‘It was too small. Kate said she needs to be able to spread out lots of paperwork. You know, receipts and invoices and the like. The dining room floor used to be covered with stuff, and I was always getting into trouble for messing it up. Opening the door too fast and creating a draught, then all these little scraps of paper would go flying everywhere.’
Becca could see the rationale. The room was a good size for an office, and the sofa bed sat unobtrusively against the side wall, a coffee table and lamp next to it. Kate’s large desk fitted along the far wall under the window, flanked by a couple of filing cabinets to the left. ‘It looks very…’ She pressed her lips together, trying to find a word that wouldn’t offend.
‘Sterile,’ Frank said, hands in his pockets, jingling his loose change. ‘Wouldn’t be my choice but I’ve had no say in the matter, and it’s Kate who’ll be working in here.’ He cleared his throat. ‘A bit of colour would be good, don’t you think?’