A smile breaks out across my face, and I throw myself forward to kiss my father’s stubbly cheek.
“Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Mum. Try not to worry, okay. I’ll be fine.” I hug my mother and then turn and run out of the room and up the stairs to join Rocco.
“We’re on,” I say, bursting through the door. I jangle the car keys that I snatched from the sideboard on my way past.
His eyebrows lift in surprise. “Your parents were okay with us taking their car?”
“Yeah, for a couple of days, at least. Now, I’d better pack a bag, and then we can get on the road.”
10
ROCCO
It’s a long drive from London to Cornwall, but after five hours on the road, we’re almost there. Both of us have driving licenses—though there’s never much point in owning a car in London—so we alternate driving when one of us gets tired.
At this time of year, the population of the small Cornish town explodes. All the holiday properties left empty most of the year are now filled with people, and the hotels and bed and breakfasts are making the money that will keep them going all year around.
I hadn’t wanted to risk taking Sophia back to my father’s house. Because of my father’s drinking, I have no idea what kind of state it will be in, but I assume it won’t be good. It’s been four months since I’d last been back to visit—something I now feel like shit about—and the house hadn’t been great then. A man living alone is never the most house-proud of creatures, but a drinker living alone is even worse.
It had taken numerous phone calls before I’d eventually found somewhere close by with a double room free. It’s a relief to find somewhere. I’d have managed if I’d been forced to sleep in the house, but there’s no way in hell I’d have put Sophia in there. My head’s spinning with all the things I need to arrange.I’ve never been great at that kind of thing, and I’m thankful to have Sophia by my side. There are solicitors to speak with, and funeral arrangements to be made. My heart sinks at the idea of the funeral, knowing there will only be a handful of people there. My dad would never have wanted a fuss anyway, but that doesn’t make it any less sad.
It's late by the time we arrive at the bed and breakfast. The last of the sun has bled away from the sky, leaving a warm red glow streaked across it. Through the hills and low-rise skyline of buildings, we’re able to see the beach and the sea where we’d both grown up.
I share a smile with Sophia and know we’re both thinking the same thing. It’s good to be back here, together, but we both just wish it happened under different circumstances.
Later that night, we hold each other in a strange bed, back in the town we’d once called home. Sex isn’t something either of us initiate, and it’s the first night we’ve spent together where it hasn’t happened, but that’s all right, too. We’re more comfortable with each other now, falling back into friendship as well as intimacy, and it’s enough to know we’re here for each other.
The next day is filled with phone calls and appointments. I need to register the death and then make arrangements for the funeral. I can’t see any point in delaying things, and as there aren’t going to be family members needing to travel long distances or anything like that, I’m able to arrange it for the day after next.
Sophia squeezes my hand. “You ready to go to the house? You’re going to have to face it sometime.”
I nod. “Yeah, I know.”
This is the part I’ve been dreading most of all. I’m going to have to come face to face with the sort of conditions my fatherhad been living in, and I know it’s going to be like a punch to the gut.
We do the short walk over to my father’s house on the outskirts of town.
The place is exactly as I remember it, dilapidated on the outside, the paintwork peeling from the windowsills, the guttering falling apart, and the roof missing tiles. The grass in the small front garden has grown knee-high, and I’m surprised nobody’s complained about it. Perhaps they have, but my father hadn’t paid any attention—or hadn’t been mentally or physically able to notice. A stab of guilt goes through me. I should have been here more. My father had spent his last few months alone, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get over that guilt.
“It’s not your fault,” Sophia says from beside me, her fingers entwined with mine. “He was ill. He has been for a very long time. You couldn’t have given up your life for him. He would never have expected you to.”
I let out a sigh. “Maybe not, but this all just feels so wrong. Thank you for coming with me. I don’t know how I’d be coping if you weren’t here right now.”
She releases my hand to slip her arm around my waist and pull me closer. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
I take a shaky breath and allow her to tug me up the overgrown path, towards the peeling front door. My hand trembles as I put the key into the lock and turn it. I almost laugh at myself. I’m supposed to be some big tough guy who works in a tattoo studio and hangs out with other big tough guys, but here I am, getting spooked by a house. A musty odour hits me and I try not to grimace, bracing myself for the worst.
But, once I step inside the door, I realise it isn’t as bad as I’d anticipated. Yes, the place has a bad smell to it, and dirt and grime cover every surface, but it isn’t as though I’ve just steppedinto an episode ofHoarders, which is what I’ve been preparing myself for.
“It’s not that bad,” Sophia says, echoing my thoughts. “It’s just a little unloved.”
“Do you think that was how he felt, too, in his final days? Unloved?”
Sophia squeezes her arms around my waist. “You can’t think like that. I’m sure your father knew you loved him, despite how he treated you. But you were both grown men, and you had your own life. He would never have expected you to stay in this little town and look after him.”
“Maybe he’d never expected me to do it, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have. I hate to think of him living down here, alone, slowly dying while I did nothing to help.”
“Do you remember how it was when we were kids?” she asks, fixing me with those blue eyes I love so much, making me focus on her rather than our surroundings. “There were days when you were terrified to go home. It wasn’t as though he was the perfect father, either, Rocco. Far from it. I’m surprised you stuck around as long as you did.”
