“Well, Nathan is looking at universities. I’m, er...well, I thought it would be a change.”
Lucy closed her eyes. Her father wouldn’t even have a cup of tea with her if it wasn’t scheduled and now he had taken off with his flame-haired neighbor. He had been holed up in the house for a year. She sensed there was something not quite right about this sudden trip, that her father was keeping something from her. “It’s a long way to go on a whim.”
“It’s got me out of the house.”
Lucy had worried that her father might be vulnerable living on his own. The newspapers were awash with stories about gullible pensioners. Now she didn’t know what to think. Why had he agreed to go with Bernadette all the way to Bath when she couldn’t get him to go to the garden center for a potter around the bedding plants? She tried to control anxiety from coming through in her voice. “When are you coming home?”
“I don’t know what time I’ll be back. I’m at a bed-and-breakfast now, and then off to Graystock tomorrow. Anyway, I have to go now, darling. I’ll give you a call when I get home, shall I?”
“Dad... Dad.” The line went dead. Lucy stared at her mobile.
She was about to ring him back, but then she started to think about his other strange habits, his strict routines. Whenever she saw him he wore that dreadful mustard sweater-vest. He hadn’t phoned her for weeks. He talked to his plant.
She’d never thought of her parents as old until Mum died. But she did now. If her dad could no longer cope on his own, she would have to start looking into home help or even old people’s homes. She wondered how quickly his mind would go.
Her mouth went dry as she imagined helping him upstairs, feeding him, taking him to the toilet. Instead of a baby to look after, she would have her father.
She stood up and her knees wobbled as she walked toward the garden gate. On top of everything else that had gone wrong in her life, she now had to deal with her father succumbing to dementia.
Bed-and-Breakfast
THE BREAKFAST BEING served downstairs at the B and B smelled delicious. At home he and Miriam only ate cereal. If he had toast, then it had to be with Flora margarine rather than Anchor or Lurpak butter. Miriam said that he had to look after his cholesterol, even though the doctor had tested and told him that it was low. Arthur was used to waking and smelling only freshly washed cotton sheets rather than a full English fry-up. This was a treat. But he did feel guilty about his wife not being here to enjoy it, too.
Despite having dropped off yesterday in the car on the way to the B and B, he had slept right through the night. It was the seagulls that had woken him that morning, cawing overhead and tap-dancing on the roof.
After his phone call with Lucy last night, he had felt rather tired. He knocked on Bernadette’s door and asked if she minded if he didn’t join her and Nathan for dinner. An early night beckoned and he would see her the next morning. Bernadette nodded but gave him a look to show she was deeply disappointed in him.
He showered, dressed and shaved and made his way to the breakfast room. It was rather jolly, with yellow wipe-clean tablecloths, silk daffodils and framed seaside postcards on the wall. Bernadette and Nathan were already seated at a table for four by the window.
“Morning,” he said brightly, joining them.
“Nin,” Nathan managed as he poked at the flowers with his knife.
“Good morning, Arthur,” Bernadette said. She reached out and lowered her son’s hand. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a log, actually. And you?”
“I didn’t have a good night. I woke around three and then things started to wander around my mind. I couldn’t stop them.”
Arthur was about to ask what she had been thinking about but a young waitress who wore a smart black skirt and a yellow blouse offered tea or coffee. He noticed that she had an anchor tattooed on one wrist and a rose on the other. This seemed to be a disturbing new trend for young people. He couldn’t understand why such a pretty girl would want to resemble a sailor. Then he scolded himself for being such a fuddy-duddy. Miriam had always encouraged him to be more liberal. “I like your tattoos.” He smiled. “Very nice.”
The waitress gave him a confused smile as if she knew the tattoos looked like they had been done by a toddler with access to a needle and pot of ink. Arthur ordered tea and requested a full English breakfast minus the grilled tomatoes.
He and Bernadette both stood at the same time and walked over to the sideboard on which sat miniboxes of cereal and a glass jug of milk. Arthur picked up Rice Krispies and carried them back. Bernadette picked two boxes of Frosties. “They never give you enough in these little boxes,” she said.
The three of them ate in silence. Nathan looked as if he was about to fall asleep at the table—his head was bowed and his hair almost dangled in his bowl.
After they had finished, the waitress took the bowls and brought over their cooked breakfasts.
“These sausages look really tasty,” Arthur said to Nathan, trying to make conversation.
“Are.”
“You mean, they are,” Bernadette corrected.
Nathan’s face was blank. He speared a full sausage and ate it from his fork. Arthur was sorely tempted to give his foot a kick under the table. He was sure that Bernadette would have taught her son excellent table manners.
“We’re going to look at the first university today. It looks promising,” Bernadette said. “Are you coming with us, Arthur?”
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to head off to Graystock. I’ll take the train to Bristol and change for Bath there.”
“I’m sure it’s only open on Fridays and Saturdays, and today is Tuesday.”
“It doesn’t need to be open to the public. I can knock on the door.”
“I think maybe you should phone ahead...”
He wasn’t in the mood to be told what to do. He was feeling rather single-minded and had made up his mind that he was going to pursue his mission. He cut into his bacon.
“And where shall we pick you up afterward?”
“I can’t ask you to do that. I’ll make my own way home from the manor.”
Bernadette’s face fell a little. “You can’t do that. It will take you ages. We’ve only booked in here for one night.”
“You’ve done enough for me already,” Arthur said firmly. “I shall visit and then see what the day brings.”
“Well, don’t be rash. Ring and let me know. You’re welcome to travel back with us. But I do want to be back for my class.”
“Class?”
“Mum does belly dancing.” Nathan sniggered.
Arthur chewed. An unwelcome image of Bernadette wearing purple chiffon and shaking her hips popped into his head. “I didn’t know that. It sounds, er, energetic.”
“It gives me a bit of exercise.”
Nathan sniggered again.
Bernadette ignored him. “How is your bacon, Arthur?” she asked.
“It’s great,” Arthur said. He was glad that he was going to spend time alone today. Whatever he found out about Miriam should be private. He wanted to be on his own with his thoughts. “I like my bacon nice and crispy. And don’t you worry about me at all. I’ll be just fine visiting the manor on my own.”
The Tiger
BERNADETTE AND NATHAN dropped Arthur off at the Cheltenham train station. He had decided to walk the two miles to Graystock Manor after arriving in Bath.