Moving On

Changes

Changes

‘ELLEN,’ HER FATHER SAID, ‘I’VE BEEN THINKING about this house.’

She’d rung to tell him of Grace’s arrival, and he was back to meet his new grandchild, and to get to know Juliet a little too. ‘What about it?’

‘I’d like to sign it over to you. I thought you might want to stay living here.’

‘Thank you, but I don’t.’ She told him of her plans, and saw the doubt in his face. Everyone doubted this move.

‘Are you sure it’s the right thing to do, Ellen?’ he asked. ‘You’ve been under a lot of strain in the past while – maybe you should wait a little before you make this big decision.’

Frances appeared just then with a tray. Ellen remained silent while her aunt poured tea and cut slices of the fruit cake someone had dropped to the house in the wake of her mother’s death. He had a nerve to try and be a father now. He hadn’t earned that right back yet.

‘I think you should sign the house over to Joan and me,’ she told him after Frances had left. ‘I’m assuming Iris will inherit your place in Dublin.’

‘Yes . . . if that’s what you want, I’ll do that.’

‘I’ll talk to Joan about it.’ She couldn’t bring herself to call him Dad. ‘Could you look after my computer when I go back to London?’

‘Of course.’

‘We should put the house up for rent,’ Joan said later, when Ellen relayed the conversation with their father. ‘No point in leaving it empty. We could sell it, but let’s get tenants in for a while and think about it. When you’re ready to go back to London, we can put an ad in the paper.’

Leo came every other week, and stayed a few hours. He never suggested an overnight visit, and neither did Ellen. It was different between them, he more conciliatory, she quieter. He brought books for the girls, and the nougat that Ellen loved.

Just before Christmas he told her he’d found a house. ‘It’s in Lambeth, so not too far from your work. I have photos.’

She leafed through them. Two storeys, with a good-sized kitchen and two reception rooms, and a sunroom jutting from one side. Upstairs were bright and airy bedrooms, and a bathroom with his and hers sinks and a claw-footed bath and a separate shower.

The garden had a tree in it that she couldn’t identify, and more than enough space for children’s playthings. Outside the sunroom was a little patio for warm evenings.

The price was higher than she’d been allowing during her covert investigations, but Leo would have calculated what he could afford. What they could afford.

‘Like it?’

She nodded. ‘How’s your house sale going?’

‘Hopeful. One of the people who viewed it last week wants a second viewing.’

Hopeful. She would remain hopeful.