I’m out with some friends
Dad
Do you have a spare key or anything?
Me
Why?
Dad
Because I’m outside your flat
Me
Why are you outside?
Dad
I have a crib for you
I ring Rosie, my brow furrowing.
“What do I do?” Her flustered voice echoes down the line.
“It’s all good, I’ll handle it. Text me his number.”
“Jackson, I cannot deal with this right now. Why has he done this? Nothing from him in six weeks then all of a sudden he turns up with a crib? I don’t want them to find the house, Jackson. What if they all show up and expect to stay in the spare room? What if Cleo posts something again and then people com?—”
“Rosie,” I interrupt. “Take a breath. I’ve got this. Send me his number.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, baby.”
“Okay,” she says quietly. “Thank you.”
“You good otherwise? You having a nice time?”
She sighs dreamily. “Yeah, we just had our nails done, and we’re going for our massages now. Smudge is also enjoying the treatment.”
Relief eases my clenched shoulders. “Okay, pretty girl, you relax and I’ll take care of it.”
We hang up and I wipe my sweaty forehead before dialing the number Rosie sends over.
“Terry,” I say as he picks up. “It’s Jackson, Rosie’s boyfriend.” I need to be serious with this man, but I can’t help the way my mouth pulls up at the side at the word.Boyfriend.
“Hello.” Terry greeting is formal.
“Rosie’s telling me you’ve got a crib?” I say, not wanting to beat around the bush.
“I’ll wait for Rosie,” he says gruffly. “She’ll be home soon.”
“It’s all good, I’ll come to you. Can you give me”—I check my watch—“thirty minutes?’
He mumbles something to the affirmative.
Half an hour later, showered and with a hat tugged over my damp hair, I pull up outside Rosie’s old flat. I climb out the car but can’t see Terry anywhere. I swear if he made me drive all the way over here for no reason, it will be my sixth strike against the whole family. Or is it seventh?
