Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
NICK
Nick wasn’t sure what was aching more – his body, his heart or his mind. His muscles were throbbing all over, and he felt cold and shivery, but how much of that was psychosomatic he couldn’t tell. His head could be hurting from the mountain of tasks he had to do – calling people who needed to know, making arrangements for the funeral, trying to stay strong for his brother. But it was perhaps his heart that ached the most, for his nanna, who he’d left behind under a dark cloud, thinking that he’d arrive home to let the sun back through again. But she was gone, along with any chance he had to make it right with her.
He looked again at the list he’d made. He’d ticked off all the phone calls on it – from his mam at the top, who was now trying to find a flight back from the cruise’s latest stop in Antigua, right down to the newspaper that Edie had been giving interviews to. Travis had handled that one, since he’d met the journo. The last thing they needed was her turning up expecting a cuppa and a chat, although he supposed someone at the Community Kitchen might need to make a statement at some point, what with it being of local interest.
Cards and flowers had come flooding into the Kitchen, some expensive blooms from donors and local dignitaries, and some frankly heartbreaking hand-picked bunches, possibly gathered without permission from local parks and gardens by some of the Kitchen’s current clientele. Edie had lived her life with a long reach, and now that she was gone, people were being drawn back to her as if by elastic. He found comfort in the fact she hadn’t been alone. She’d been working in the Kitchen and collapsed suddenly, with Cath and Ailsa both there to catch her as she fell. It had been almost instant, he’d been told. A massive stroke – she was gone before Ailsa and Cath could lie her down.
Travis finished prodding at his phone and sat up abruptly. His grief style had been to sink into his smartphone like an alcoholic sinks into a bottle of whisky. Not that Nick could begrudge him that, after his poor brother had had to pace the hotel lobby waiting to break the news to him.
‘I’m going out,’ he said. ‘Are you okay? Do you need me to do anything?’
‘No, I’m good. Where are you off to?’
‘Just… meeting someone.’ He took one last look at his phone and slipped it in his pocket.
‘Oh. An old friend? Or a new friend?’ Travis had been spending so much time on his phone, Nick was starting to wonder if he was back in the comfort zone of his dating apps.
Travis rolled his eyes. ‘A none-of-your-business friend. Anyway, I’ll be back later. You sure you don’t mind?’
‘Of course not,’ Nick said. ‘Everything’s pretty much sorted anyway.’
Travis left, and Nick sat for a while, twiddling his thumbs, finally pausing in the death admin long enough to remember Wren.
In all the chaos of the horrible news, trying to comfort his distraught brother and hurriedly arranging earlier flights, he hadn’t had a minute to go and see Wren before they left. In fact, it was only as he looked out of the plane window at the slowly shrinking island of Capri that the memory of her had dropped into his stomach like a stone.
He felt terrible, and in quiet moments, when he was able to put Edie out of the forefront of his mind, he really missed her. He hadn’t meant it to just be a ‘holiday thing’. He’d assumed they’d see each other when they were home – she lived in the same county, for God’s sake. The same massive, sprawling county, with a population of over three hundred thousand. He was frustrated that he didn’t even have her full name or a phone number. He could try to search online for her, he knew, but not just now. He hadn’t been there for Nanna when she needed him most, and now, instead of putting his own interests first, the least he could do was focus all his energy on her final journey.
On that note, he decided it might be best to choose what he was going to wear for the funeral.
He went to his room, rifled through the wardrobe for his grey suit – the old one he'd resurrected for the Kitchen anniversary party – some shoes and a black tie. He ran his thumb over the dark silk, dreading putting it on. Then he remembered something that would finish the outfit off – the Omega watch he’d been given by his mam one Christmas. He and Travis had both been given one, Tracey waving away thanks and saying it was to make up for not being around so much. Travis had joked in private about never wearing them together as they’d be too matchy-matchy, so Nick’s spent a lot of its time in his top drawer. But when he opened the drawer now, he saw the watch was gone. He rummaged around, but just when he was about to start emptying out his pairs of socks, the doorbell rang. He gave up and closed the drawer.
‘Daddy!’ said Ruby, flinging herself at him as soon as he opened the door. She crashed against him like a heavy wave and squeezed him around his middle. Behind her, on the doorstep, was Callie, her hands thrust into her jacket pockets.
He was lost for words. Callie never dropped by. They had a routine that she always rigidly stuck to, and there had never been a casual drop-in since they’d split. He rubbed the top of Ruby’s head and blinked into the daylight.
‘Um, come in,’ he said, finally finding his manners within the confusion.
Ruby walked into the living room and sat on the sofa, fiddling with the tassels on one of Travis’s fancy cushions.
Callie sidled in with an awkward smile. ‘How are you doing?’ she asked.
‘I’m okay,’ he said. ‘Getting there. Have a seat and I’ll put the kettle on.’
He returned a few minutes later to find Ruby curled under Callie’s arm, both talking quietly. He placed the cups on coasters and sat opposite, prompting Ruby to join him.
She blinked up at him from her spot on his knee. ‘Are you sad, Daddy?’
‘I am a bit, yes. But it’s cheered me up, seeing you.’ He mustered a more genuine smile than he’d been capable of for the last few days.
‘I’m sad as well,’ she said. ‘I liked Nanna Edie. She was funny.’
‘She was. And she loved you lots, darlin’.’
‘She did good cuddles. And I thought you might be missing those, so I’ve come to cuddle you instead.’ She squeezed him around the middle again, and he held her tightly. God, it was hard not to cry, but he wouldn’t, not in front of Ruby – or in front of Callie, for that matter.
‘What happened to your eye?’
He swallowed, clearing the lump from his throat, and mustered a mischievous grin. ‘Well, while Uncle Trav and I were in Italy, there was this sea monster…’
‘You’re silly,’ she said. ‘Can I go and look at Uncle Travis’s treasures?’
‘Of course you can.’
Ruby loved to look through Travis’s stock room, with its endless carousel of mad prints, jewellery and bags. She slid down off his knee and disappeared out of the room.
‘Don’t move things around though, sweetheart,’ Callie called after her. Then they were left alone.
Callie took a sip of her coffee and looked around self-consciously. She tucked a strand of ash-blonde hair behind her ear.
‘Thank you,’ said Nick. ‘For bringing her. It’s really good of you.’
‘That’s okay. She loved Edie. And I was pretty fond of her too. No matter what she thought of me.’
‘She…’ He wanted to say something placatory. She thought the world of you. She never had a bad word to say about you . But he knew it would be a lie, and Callie knew it too. Edie had been like a tigress, protecting her grandsons since the day they were born, so she would always take his side. So he settled for, ‘She would be glad you came.’
‘Remember at our engagement party? When Travis’s dad got drunk and his new girlfriend was putting sausage rolls in her handbag, and she got the bartenders to slyly leave the whisky out of his whisky and Coke. She asked the staff to plate up leftovers from the buffet to hand out, so people wouldn’t keep staring at his lass, whatever her name was. I can’t remember now. But Edie was always great at diplomacy. You’re not so bad at it yourself.’
‘Ha. Maybe it’s hereditary.’
‘Maybe it is.’
Nick drank some more coffee then sat with the mug grasped between both hands, shoulders hunched forward. ‘Listen, let’s let bygones be bygones. I’m over it, Cal. I promise, I barely even think about how things ended between us. Maybe we can move things forward a bit? Talk about Ruby again.’
Callie tensed, putting her cup down and squeezing both hands between her knees. ‘I’m glad you feel that way. But I don’t think it’s the right time.’
‘When’s it going to be the right time?’ he snapped before he could stop himself.
‘Nick, I know you’re upset. I don’t think we should talk about it right now.’
‘Why not? Please don’t make this about my nanna. I’m a grown man. It’s as good a time as any.’
Her eyes flashed. ‘Is it? Do you really want to talk about something that can’t be fixed with a click of your fingers?’ She shook her head and glanced around the room. ‘I didn’t come here for this. I wanted you and Ruby to see each other; hoped it would help. But just because you’re grieving, I can’t pretend that your life is stable enough for sharing custody of her.’
Something lit up inside Nick, like the fuse on a stick of dynamite. He knew he was on borrowed time before he lost his temper. He kept his voice low. ‘Do you really think that’s why I’m bringing it up? That I would be that calculating? I’ve felt like this from day one. All I want is to have more time with my daughter, for her to stay with me for weekends instead of being thrown crumbs every now and then.’
Her lips pinched together, and she looked stonily into the middle distance.
‘Okay. So when I’ve got a place of my own, then can we agree that she can spend more time with me?’
She sighed. ‘I’m sorry about Edie, Nick, but I didn’t come here for a row. We’d best go. Ruby, sweetie, come on,’ she called into the other room. ‘Time to head off.’ She avoided his eye and got up, gathering her handbag.
‘Callie, what have I got to do?’ he asked, feeling weary, like he’d had a physical fight, not just a verbal one. ‘You know I’m not the one who created this situation.’
Ruby skipped into the room before she could answer, and they pasted on smiles. He gave Ruby a cuddle and kissed the top of her head. ‘You be good for Mammy, won’t you?’ Then, over the top of her head, he glared at Callie. ‘And Justin.’
Callie crossed her arms, giving him a withering stare.
His jaw tensed, and he shook his head at her. When he looked down, Ruby was staring up at them, looking from one face to the other as if she was watching the world’s saddest tennis match. Her lower lip started to wobble. Then Nick’s gaze fell upon something on the console table by the door. It was that souvenir penny from the lighthouse, the one that had almost choked him. He’d looked the place up and they were running an event for kids – treasure hunts, colouring sheets, all the usual. He picked the coin up and bent down to her level.
‘Hey, hey,’ he soothed. ‘Listen, I’ve had an idea about our next little outing. You love the seaside, don’t you?’ She nodded, her trembling lip growing still. ‘How’s about we go and see a lighthouse? A big, tall lighthouse where you can see for miles?’
Her face brightened, and although her eyes were damp, she smiled and nodded.
‘Come on – off we go,’ said Callie, tugging at Ruby’s arm and avoiding Nick’s eye. ‘We’ll get some sweets on the way home.’
They left, leaving Nick standing where he was.
He crashed back onto the sofa, throwing the penny on the table and thrusting his hands through his hair. He hadn’t meant to punch low. But he hadn’t been able to help it. Like a man possessed, he was grafting and saving to get his own place. And yet Callie was so set in her ways about this current arrangement he was scared that even if he did, she might still find some reason to keep Ruby from him. All his patience had been channelled into protecting Ruby from this ongoing row, but now he wondered if he should be pushing harder.
His mind skipped back to that afternoon in Minarolla. His father sitting there, bold as brass, telling him he meant nothing to him. Now that was where he and Richard were completely different. He loved that little girl with all his heart. He could feel the bond with her literally flowing through his bloodstream. But was there something genetic in being absent in his child’s life, even if it was against his will?
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, grinding his palms into the hollows of his eyes. He ached all over. Initially he wondered whether it was grief – some people said that it could cause actual physical pain. But his throat hurt too – it felt like sandpaper – and his chest felt tickly and tight. He was coming down with something. In fact, he’d had a bit of an itchy throat on the flight back from Italy – maybe something he’d picked up there. He thought of Wren. Hopefully she wasn’t sick too. It would be just too depressing to know that the only thing still connecting them was a virulent Italian infection.