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

at it. It’s closed now, but I didn’t notice anything out of place when I took the bath gel out.

I’m sure she was just dusting it. Robin wouldn’t steal from me, would she? And surely I’d notice if things were going missing? Mum’s just looking out for me, that’s all. Trying to make up for lost time. I rather like it. It’s kind of sweet.

I smile and forget about it, then reluctantly clamber out of the bath and head for bed.

Chapter 18

It’s Saturday again, thank goodness. It’s been a funny old week, my days madly busy at work and my head all over the place. I misplaced my keys again on Wednesday, and had to get another cab to work. Mum called me at lunchtime to say she’d found them outside on the patio table which puzzled me because I had absolutely no recollection of going out into the garden, not that morning or the previous evening. I tried to put it out of my mind, vowing to put my keys in a safe place from now on, but it’s still worrying me now. I really need to get my head together, and being so tired isn’t helping; I seem to have lost the ability to sleep properly in recent days and now my nights are replete with dreams. I don’t remember the details, but despite that I know that most of them are about Lucy. I know just by looking at the sheets twisted around my legs and by the way I wake with my jaw clenched so tightly it hurts for hours.

Nightmares, not dreams.

But last night was, for the first time this week, OK. I’ve slept pretty well, and woken feeling alert and rested. I can hear chatter downstairs – they’re all up, already? It’s only eight o’clock – and when I come downstairs, hair still damp from the shower, the kids are bouncing around the kitchen with excitement.

‘Grandma says the trampoline’s arriving this morning!’ shrieks Finley, and flings himself at my right leg, wrapping his arms around it. He’s wearing his Spiderman pyjama top with a pair of jeans, his feet are bare, and his hair is a tousled mess.

‘Is it? Great!’ I say and bend down to give him a hug.

Damn. I’d forgotten about that.

Mum announced on Thursday that she’d ordered a trampoline for the back garden – ‘A little something for my grandchildren to remember me by when I eventually have to go home. You don’t mind, do you, love? It’ll be SO much fun!’ – and Finley and Eloise immediately went into such paroxysms of delight that I didn’t have the heart to say that actually, the garden wasn’t really big enough and that I quite liked the little lawn space that we had.

Oh well. If it makes them happy.

Mum’s sipping coffee, dressed in navy joggers and a blue cardigan embroidered with little red flowers. She smiles indulgently at Finley and then winks at me.

‘You’ll need to be properly dressed to jump on the trampoline, darling,’ she says. ‘Can’t be going out there in half your pyjamas, can you? You’ll need a jumper, socks, and trainers. And neatly brushed hair too. Think you can do that?’

‘YESSS!’ He lets go of my leg and tears from the room, and I grin at my mother.

‘Nice work,’ I say. ‘Eloise, are you excited too?’

She’s sitting opposite Mum, a book propped up against the milk jug in front of her.

‘Yep,’ she says, through a mouthful of toast. She swallows and looks up at me.

‘I’ve been watching trampolining videos on YouTube. I’m going to learn tricks. Front flips, back flips, somersaults …’

‘OK, steady on! Just master jumping up and down safely first, please, before you start all the fancy stuff,’ I say, and she rolls her eyes and goes back to her book.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ she mutters, but she’s smiling.

I shake my head and exchange glances with Mum, who looks highly amused.

‘Anyway,’ I say, as I flick the kettle on. ‘Did you say it’ll need some assembly? I’ll try and get it done before I go and visit Dad at lunchtime. Eloise, you and Finley are coming with me today, OK? Just for an hour. The trampoline will still be here when you get back.’

My daughter looks up with a frown, then her face clears and she nods.

‘OK. Poor Grandad. I’m glad he’s home now.’

‘Good girl. So am I.’

The hospital discharged him on Thursday morning, and he’s back at Holly Tree, to my great relief. He looked so much better when I saw him yesterday. His speech is improving already and he has a little colour back in his cheeks.

He’ll be back in the bar with Billy in no time, I think, as I pop a teabag in a mug. Bless him.

‘… only a bit of assembly,’ Mum’s saying. ‘A few screws here and there, I think. Don’t think it will take long. I can help, if you like?’

‘No, don’t worry,’ I say. ‘I quite like doing stuff like that. You can keep an eye on these two troublemakers while I sort it. At least the weather looks nice.’

‘Yes, I was just thinking that. It’s lovely. I might wander out for a quick walk in a bit, if you don’t mind?’

‘Go for it.’

I smile. I love how she seems to be feeling so at home here now, how she’s slotted so effortlessly into our little family set up. The kids are with me until this evening, when Jacob and Crystal are planning to take them to the cinema and then to theirs until Monday, and although it’s going to be a busy day, I suddenly feel a rush of contentment. OK, so I’m still sad, hurt, and confused by Brenda and Barbara’s behaviour. But otherwise, everything’s pretty good, isn’t it? Dad being so much better, a weekend at home, the sun shining, no more sightings of bloody Mike – or no more imagined sightings, I should probably say … Even the sodding trampoline will probably turn out to