Chapter Four
In truth, I’m a little on edge once the news has settled. Eddie has never even seen this Edinburgh flat, and what if he can’t handle working in a restaurant kitchen? He insists that it’ll be ‘easy’, but he has no idea what it’s like. At home he takes exception to being asked to put the milk back in the fridge. How will he cope with being barked at by chefs and slogging away on gruelling shifts? From lying on the sofa, mindlessly slotting Quality Street into his mouth, to holding down a demanding job and paying his rent every month. It feels like a heck of a leap.
However, it’s what he wants so of course I’m happy for him. And when Frank comes home, still in blue overalls and smelling not unpleasantly of oil and graft, he’s clearly delighted. ‘That’s brilliant, Ed! Great news.’ He catches my eye and grins. Can you actually believe this is happening? his look says.
‘Let’s go out and celebrate,’ I announce. ‘We’ll invite Granddad too. He’ll be so pleased for you.’
Eddie smirks. ‘Oh, d’you reckon?’
‘’Course he will,’ I say, brushing off his remark with a smile – because we all know how hard it is to please my father these days. While Frank showers and changes, I call Dad with the news, and then set off to pick him up from his harbourside flat a few miles further along the coast. And later, as the four of us settle around the table at our local Italian restaurant, I’m determined not to let his spiky presence dent the mood.
Our pizzas arrive and wine is poured – just water for me as I’ll drive Dad home later – and I make a toast. ‘To you, Eddie! To a whole new start.’
‘To Eddie!’ Frank grins as we all clink glasses.
‘Thanks.’ Eddie beams with pleasure.
‘About time too,’ my father remarks. ‘I was starting to think you’d never leave home, Eddie. Fifteen, I was, when I started full-time work in the shipyards—’
‘Oh, I thought it was nine?’ Frank murmurs with a mischievous twinkle, and I have to suppress a laugh.
‘Yes, Granddad,’ Eddie says dutifully. ‘But things are different now.’
‘You can say that again.’
‘Eddie was just waiting for the right opportunity,’ Frank remarks, ever loyal to our son.
‘Working in a kitchen?’ Dad frowns.
‘Yeah. Food’s the big thing now,’ Eddie assures him.
‘Really? It’s a new invention, is it? This eating thing?’
‘Dad!’ I glare at him.
‘What’ll be the next big thing?’ my father muses. ‘Breathing?’
‘Yeah, probably, Granddad.’ Eddie smirks.
‘Well, I think it’s great,’ I insist.
‘Although you did try to force him to work in the tax office,’ Frank teases, nudging my arm.
‘I did not! It was a suggestion, that was all …’
‘Wanted to buy him a briefcase for Christmas,’ he goes on, fibbing wildly. ‘I had to wrench it out of her hands in John Lewis—’
‘Frank,’ I cut in, laughing now. ‘I did not.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with honest hard work,’ Dad remarks.
‘But Eddie will be working hard,’ I say firmly.
‘Yeah, I will.’ Eddie grins. ‘And I didn’t want an office job, Granddad. That’s just not me. And I think this will be. At least, I’m going to give it my best shot.’
Dad seems to soften at that, and he nods in approval.
‘Well, I’ll drink to that!’ Frank announces, and there’s more clinking of glasses and wine is topped up. And so the evening goes on, with good-natured teasing and Eddie chatting excitedly about how it’ll be to flat-share with Calum and Raj, his oldest mates, who I suspect he’s missed more than he’s admitted. Eventually, after a couple of large red wines, even Dad relaxes a little, and by the time we step out into the bitterly cold night, my worries have subsided. It was a bit sudden, that’s all. Coming home from work today, this was the last thing I expected.
‘So you really think he’s up to this, do you?’ Dad glances at me as I drive him home.
‘Of course he is.’ It’s a reasonable question but it still irks me.
‘The girls just seemed a lot more organised, that’s all,’ he adds. ‘This has all happened in a bit of a rush, hasn’t it?’
‘Well, the opportunity just came up,’ I say, trying to remain patient. ‘But yes, Bella was organised. We all know what she’s like, Dad …’
‘Yes, she’s a sensible kid with her head screwed on,’ he remarks – the implication being that Eddie’s isn’t. That the minute he’s out of parental jurisdiction, it might topple off. He’s right, though, in that Bella had planned her move to London with military precision. It felt as if she’d barely unpacked in her new house-share before she’d found a gym, a local food market and signed up with a dentist. I can’t imagine Eddie doing that unless all his teeth fall out.
‘Ana was more chaotic,’ I remind Dad. ‘She was still cramming clothes into bin bags on the day we were driving her over to Dundee. And she stole our cheese from the fridge and her dad’s old denim jacket!’ I’m trying to lighten the mood, to make the point that his three grandchildren are all different, and all equally wonderful in their own ways. His blatant favouring of the girls always riles me. But he merely grunts, and as I turn off the main road and into his cul-de-sac, I realise there’s no point in discussing it any further.
As I park up, I remember the day Ana moved into halls in Dundee. We’d stopped off at a supermarket en route, as I’d wanted to make sure she had plenty of nutritious food in, to start off her new life as an art student. But she showed zero interest in the fruit and veg I was loading into our trolley, and I suspected it would all wither before being thrown away. Ana seems to exist on cheese on toast and Pringles – yet somehow I always know she’ll be okay. She hugged us cheerfully as we were about to leave her in halls, announcing that she’d forgotten her DMs and could I post them to her?
‘I’m sure Eddie will be fine , Dad,’ I say as I see him upstairs to his flat. It’s not ideal, a man of eighty-four living alone on the second floor with no lift. But he loves his little flat, so who am I to argue?
‘Let’s hope so,’ he says gruffly.
I muster a smile and hug him briefly, which he tolerates, and then trot lightly downstairs and back out into the night.
The moon is shining pearly bright. Before climbing into my car I stop for a moment, just to take it all in: not only the silvery reflection on the calm sea, but the enormity of what’s happened today.
Tomorrow will be the start of something wonderful, I can feel it. Not just for Eddie – but also for Frank and me. Perhaps this really is the beginning of my second act.