Chapter Five #2
Karl was talking as she entered the living room. “You sent that bloody woman around to feed me again. I told you I don’t want her help. She’s a witch and I—” He broke off suddenly when he saw Jiro. “Who’s that?” he asked, instantly on guard.
“This is Jiro Nashimori. He’s…a friend of mine.
I met him when I was living in Gothenburg.
” At the last moment, she decided not to tell Karl the truth.
She hoped Jiro followed her lead and wouldn’t give too much away.
“He’s in town for one night and needs a place to stay, so I said he could have my spare bedroom. ”
“A friend of yours?” Karl queried, his eyes nearly disappearing into the folds of his skin as he squinted to see the man coming in behind her.
Karl hadn’t taken a razor to his face for many weeks now, and his stubble was fast turning into a thick beard.
It made him look even more haggard, more like a homeless man propped up in the single armchair—her chair that he had commandeered.
The TV was blaring, and she went over to turn it down so that she could introduce Jiro properly.
Before Aurora could say anything more, however, Karl demanded, “I don’t want no stranger staying here.” As he spoke, his head twitched from side to side, and one of his feet began to jerk spasmodically, the heightened emotions bringing out the worst of his disease.
Aurora wanted to retort that this was her house, and he didn’t get to say who stayed and who didn’t, but instead, she said in English, “Jiro was on the cruise ship, Le Commandant Charcot. You know the one?” Her father was obsessed with cruise ships.
He’d splashed out on a trip around the Caribbean right after her mother had died, and he still had some money left.
The trip had been a highlight of his life, and he’d never stopped talking about it.
Now he ordered every glossy brochure he could find, so that he could pore over the pictures, still dreaming of where he might go.
In the summer months he would sometimes go down to the docks and watch the cruise ships come and go, lamenting the fact that this disease had now stripped of the opportunity to ever go on another journey.
Aurora knew better; it wasn’t just the disease stopping him now, it was his lack of finances combined with his lack of social graces.
If Aurora were a better daughter, then perhaps she might offer to take him on one final cruise.
But she wasn’t a good daughter, and he wasn’t a good father.
The luxury ice-breaking cruise ship was one of Karl’s favorites. It had been the one ace up her sleeve when she’d invited Jiro to stay.
Karl levered himself up higher in the chair and switched to broken English.
“You on boat?” He lifted a shaking hand and pointed at the couch next to him.
“Come. Sit,” he said imperiously, making it clear he wanted to hear about the cruise ship.
Aurora hid a grimace as she noted her father’s complete change of tune. Now he wanted to talk to the stranger.
“Let me show you around first; it won’t take long,” Aurora interceded. Her father could wait. “And you can dump your bag in your room.”
“Great Christmas tree,” Jiro commented, pointing to the bauble-covered tree in the window.
“Thank you,” she said, slightly surprised that he’d even noticed it, but also a tad pleased.
She’d spent the better half of a whole morning setting up the tree, trimming it, and then adding other traditional decorations and streamers around the house to give it a festive feel.
Karl had grumbled at her the whole time, saying he disliked Christmas and she was just making the place look untidy.
But she’d ignored him, deciding this was her house, and if she wanted to lift her spirits by making it look pretty, then she’d do just that.
It was also a silent salute to her mother’s memory.
Karin had always made such an effort to make the house look and feel amazing for her two girls at Christmas, and Aurora had adopted that tradition as her own, feeling as if it brought her mother closer.
It also helped her to remember the good times with her instead of being melancholy over her passing, the anniversary of which was coming soon after the new year.
Almost unconsciously, Aurora touched a fingertip to one of the small, heart-shaped earrings she always wore.
They’d been a present from her mother for her eighteenth birthday, and she rarely took them off.
Giving herself a mental shake, Aurora pushed the thoughts away and concentrated on showing Jiro around.
“My bedroom is upstairs in the converted attic.” She pointed at the stairs leading upward near the front door, but she’s already decided he definitely didn’t need to see up there.
“The kitchen is through here,” she continued, leading him through into the rear of the house.
This was probably her favorite room. Right before her father had moved in, she’d had the whole kitchen renovated.
She’d done a lot of the work herself to keep the costs down.
Ordered the flat pack cabinets from IKEA and put them together herself, then painted them a lovely duck-egg blue.
The copper sink was one she found second-hand online, as was her pride and joy, a large barista-style coffee machine that sat in a corner of the countertop.
She’d also found the old-fashioned timber window frames at a second-hand furniture joint and brought them back to life by sanding them and giving them a new paint job.
Now she had a wonderful view out over her cute little garden and back patio.
A friend of a friend knew a plumber who did the work for cash in hand, and the only thing she had to pay full price on was the electrical work.
But it’d been worth it, because now the room was light and bright, and made her happy whenever she walked in.
It was somewhere to escape from Fader as he rarely entered the kitchen; cooking was a woman’s job.
“Nice.” Jiro gave an appreciative nod. “Wow. You might be a woman after my own heart,” he added as he spied the coffee machine.
“Now that’s impressive.” He stepped up to the countertop and ran an admiring finger over the polished chrome.
“I bet it makes bloody good coffee.” He turned to face her, his eyes alight with sudden animation.
“It does,” she agreed. As she watched him continue his appreciative study of the machine, she felt her shoulders begin to relax as some of her worry leached out of her muscles.
At least they had one thing in common: a love of good coffee.
Perhaps his stay here wouldn’t be as bad as she was imagining.
“Your room is this way.” She led him past the back door and down a long corridor that hugged the rear of the building.
“There’s the bathroom,” she said, pushing open the first door on the right so he could look in as they went by, making a mental note to get him a clean towel.
Her father needed help to shower, and so she knew the bathroom would be in fairly good condition, because she was always the one to clean up after him.
“Sorry, it’s not very big,” she apologized, leading him along to the door at the end of the corridor.
She poked her head in first to make sure it was all as she had left it last time she’d been in, grateful to see everything was still neat and tidy and in its place.
Her father slept in the bigger bedroom right next to the bathroom, and she suddenly hoped that he wouldn’t keep Jiro awake with his snoring. The walls were thin in this cottage. Aurora didn’t hear it up in her attic room, but she should probably warn him to wear some earplugs.
“It’s fine,” Jiro assured her, dumping his duffel on the neatly made bed.
“You know I’m grateful just to have a bed for the night,” he added, flashing her a grin.
It was the first time she’d seen him relax enough to actually smile.
It was a very good smile. Showing straight, white teeth, and made his eyes crinkle up at the corners in a most endearing manner.
It made her catch her breath as she realized just how good-looking he was.
Turning away, she tried to hide how flustered she was, by saying, “It’s all good.
Now, if you wouldn’t mind keeping my father occupied for a few minutes, I’ll make us a coffee.
” She knew she was dumping him in the deep end, but it was either that or he stay locked up in his room.
“Or would you prefer something harder? Or softer,” she added as an afterthought.
“Even though I’d love to taste a coffee from your amazing machine, I would very much like a beer right now, if you have one. It’s been a kind of stressful day.”
That was an understatement, she decided.
And if he was going to spend any time talking to Karl, then he’d definitely need something more than just coffee.
She didn’t drink a lot of alcohol, and she rationed Karl’s intake using the doctor’s recommendations that drinking any alcohol would only bring on his symptoms quicker as her excuse.
While in truth, it was because Karl became even more ornery when he drank.
But she kept a secret stash in her small shed out in the backyard so he couldn’t get to it for the odd occasion when she herself needed a drink.
Perhaps tonight they could all do with a little loosening up.
“I’ll get us all a beer,” she replied. “I could use one too.”
“Of course you could,” he said, his features softening.
“Look, I was wrong to say those things earlier. I was angry, frustrated, stressed. And clearly I don’t handle stress well.
” He touched her gently on the arm and gave a weak smile.
“I’d hate to think that you took any of what I said to heart.
And I’d hate to think I’d damaged our relationship. ”