The Happy Family by Jackie Kabler (electric book reader txt) 📕

as if the encounter has turned my day around. My meeting goes swimmingly, with everyone in agreement about everything for once, and when I call in at the hospital on my way home, Dad is awake and responsive and has even managed to eat a little soup and toast for dinner. He doesn’t ask many questions – he’s clearly finding it hard to form words, his speech significantly worse than it was before this second much bigger stroke – but he nods and smiles as I chat. I don’t mention Mum at all this time, and neither does he. It must have been such a shock for him to see her last night, and something tells me to wait until he’s feeling stronger before I bring her up again. There is, I hope, plenty of time for that. He definitely seems better today, and the relief is immense.

When I get home, Mum opens the front door with a flourish. She’s wearing oatmeal-coloured knitted lounge pants and a matching sweatshirt, and she looks relaxed and smiley.

‘Darling! How was your day? I’ve been horribly lazy, I’m afraid. Barely moved from the sofa.’

‘That’s OK! You’re on holiday, aren’t you?’ I say, and I follow her into the lounge where she’s obviously been watching something on the Comedy Channel. She presses the mute button and beams at me.

‘True.’

‘Well, my day got much better, thank you,’ I say. ‘Hey, I don’t suppose Robin found my keys when she was cleaning?’

‘Ahh, yes. Kitchen island,’ she says. ‘As in, that’s where they are now. I think she said she found them in the bathroom?’

I frown.

‘The main bathroom? Not my ensuite?’

Mum shrugs.

‘Think so, yes. Shall I open a bottle of wine? I noticed you had one in the fridge.’

‘Erm … yes, sure. That would be nice. Thanks.’

The bathroom? How on earth did they get there? I never use the main bathroom; it’s just for the kids or guests.

Then I sigh.

Maybe I did go up there last night to replace the loo roll or something, after we got in from the hospital? I was so stressed and anxious, and I do tend to go into autopilot …

I follow Mum into the kitchen and pick up the keys, slipping them into my handbag. I’ve got them back, that’s the main thing. Mum’s got the bottle of wine in her hand now, and she’s looking around the kitchen.

‘Corkscrew’s in the drawer next to the cutlery one,’ I say, and she smiles.

‘Thanks, love.’

She finds the corkscrew and sets the bottle down, then starts picking the foil off.

‘I’ll need a glass of this before I meet the kids. I’m a bit nervous … Isn’t that silly?’ she says.

I’m about to reply, to tell her it will be fine, that Jacob’s told me the kids are thrilled at the news of her arrival and are dying to meet her, but she’s still talking.

‘… and by the way, Robin … Do you really need her, love? Especially now I’m here, if I’m staying for a while? I can do the school runs and keep on top of the cleaning for you, if you like. It’s just that, well … I wasn’t too sure about her, if I’m honest.’

‘Oh!’ I’m not sure how to respond. ‘I mean, that’s wonderful, if you still want to stay. I’d be absolutely delighted’—I take a step closer to her, feeling a little glow of happiness—‘but honestly, I couldn’t ask you to take on all that. It’s too much. And Robin’s great. What … what did you mean about not being sure about her?’

She stops picking at the foil on the bottle and frowns slightly.

‘Well … oh, it’s nothing, love. Ignore me. If you’re happy with her …’

She turns her attention back to the wine and I hesitate for a moment.

‘No, go on, what is it?’

She shakes her head.

‘Honestly, it’s nothing. How long until the kids get here? I’m so excited. Do you want to go and change? I’ll get this open and pour us both a glass, and then shall I stick the oven on for that lasagne you’ve got in?’

She’s grinning widely now, and her sudden enthusiasm is infectious.

‘Aww, thanks Mum. That would be great. I’ll just be a minute.’

As I head upstairs though, my thoughts drift back to this morning, and the man Robin was talking to. Although by now I’ve pretty much convinced myself that it was a case of mistaken identity, that it wasn’t Mike at all, that I’m just being paranoid, a tiny seed of doubt remains and it’s just grown a bit bigger.

What if Robin was lying to me about him? I’ve seen her going through my stuff before. I trust her, but am I being an idiot? And what was Mum not telling me just now? Did she notice something today while they were alone here together?

There’s a knot forming in my stomach, and I take a deep breath. Of course Robin is trustworthy. That was just a fellow runner this morning, she told me so. I have to stop being so paranoid, I tell myself firmly as I head back downstairs. If I carry on like this, I’m going to ruin everything. I take another breath and go and join my mother in the kitchen.

Chapter 13

‘Eloise! Finley! Fifteen minutes, OK?’

I wait until I hear two voices shouting back at me from upstairs, then go into the kitchen where my mother is flicking through a magazine. At her insistence, we’re taking the kids out for pizza – a rare treat for a Wednesday evening. She’s been amazing with them since they met on Monday night, interested and interesting, helping Eloise with homework and reading Finley bedtime stories. They’ve been full of questions, of course, in the uninhibited way children are; I cringed inwardly when I heard Finley, just an hour after meeting his grandmother, ask her, ‘Why did you leave Mummy and Grandad when Mummy was a little girl, Grandma? And why did you stay away for so long?’

She didn’t miss