The House We Called Home Page 24

  ‘On it.’ Sonny legged it to the beach bar.

  Stella was already starting to jog away, holding Rosie by the hand. ‘Rosie and I will grab the stuff and meet you at the car.’

  ‘What about the baby?’ panted Gus, walking fast, still trying to get his breath back.

  Jack was all straight-backed and super calm. ‘I think it’ll be OK.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  Jack looked at him and smiled. ‘Because I carry a lot of useless useful information in my head.’

  CHAPTER 32

  The doctor at the hospital was very dismissive. By the time they’d got there the swelling on Amy’s leg had started to subside and the hot tea-towel Sonny procured had knocked the worst of the pain on the head. When they were actually seen, Gus had to back Amy up about how bad it had been, doing a big exaggerated spread of his arms to emphasise the hugeness of Amy’s ankle. The doctor peered unimpressed at the now much more normal-sized joint and packed her off with some cream for the red welts.

  It felt so fine that Amy even insisted they pop into the pool on the way home to see if there was any sign of their father – which there was not.

  ‘Well, that’s enough drama for one day, I think,’ Jack said as they pulled up outside the huts so Amy didn’t have to walk as far. He stayed in the driver’s seat, engine ticking over and blocking the path, ready to turn round because they were going out again to find a supermarket.

  Gus and Stella helped Amy out of the car even though she was probably fine to walk. Sonny followed. Rosie stayed in the car.

  A van drew up behind him. Jack leant out of the window, ‘Sorry mate, I’ll just pull in.’

  Above them the eucalyptus rustled like waves in the wind.

  The van drove past. ‘Afternoon,’ said a voice out of the open window.

  They all looked over to see Mitch cruising past in his mustard-coloured VW Westfalia T3.

  Stella took her sunglasses off and stared after him. ‘Mitch? You have got to be kidding?’

  Amy was open-mouthed.

  ‘She doesn’t mess about does she, your mother?’ said Gus, arm round Amy’s waist, Amy’s arm over his shoulder.

  ‘That’s why she wanted a yurt.’ Stella shook her head. ‘I can’t believe he’s here,’ she added, supporting Amy on the other side from Gus.

  ‘I think it’s a mid-life crisis,’ said Amy.

  ‘That’d have her living till about a hundred and thirty,’ said Gus.

  ‘God help us,’ Stella sighed.

  They sat Amy down on the veranda deckchair, moving the small wooden table round so she could rest her foot on it. Gus folded up a towel underneath it.

  ‘Comfy?’ Stella asked.

  Amy nodded. ‘Fine, thank you.’

  ‘Right, we’ll leave you to it then,’ said Stella, jogging down the steps. ‘Come on, Sonny. In the car.’

  ‘Can’t I stay here?’ Sonny asked from where he’d positioned himself on the neighbouring veranda with his phone.

  ‘No,’ Stella said. ‘You’ll just be on your phone the whole time. Come on, it’ll be interesting. Loads of different stuff to look at.’

  ‘Nah.’ Sonny shrugged.

  Jack called from the car, ‘Come on, mate,’ his eyes almost pleading.

  Heat seemed to permeate from the wooden huts, the sun dazzled on the white roofs, the crow that lived in the nearby pine screeched loud. The cicadas buzzed, a manifestation of the mounting tension.

  ‘I don’t want to come, all right?’ Sonny shouted. ‘I just want to be on my own.’

  ‘Sonny! Get. In. The. Car.’ Stella snapped, tone exasperated, already wound up to the brink.

  Just then Moira appeared, fresh from mid-morning yoga, sipping on a lurid green smoothie. ‘Careful Stella, you sound just like your father.’

  Gus and Amy watched, silent, from the veranda.

  The crow screeched.

  Stella turned to look at her mother completely dumbfounded. She looked back at Sonny. Then she swallowed, glancing down at the floor.

  No one quite knew what to do.

  Moira took a slurp of her smoothie.

  Gus leant over the balcony and said, ‘We’ll keep an eye on him, Stella.’

  And Stella said, ‘OK.’ She nodded. ‘Thank you.’

  Over at the hut, Sonny’s eyebrows shot up, clearly never for one moment thinking he’d get his own way.

  Jack leant over and pushed open Stella’s door, wanting to get away quickly, before anyone changed their mind. ‘Be good, Sonny,’ he shouted.

  Sonny was leaning against the veranda balcony rail, nodding like he’d do a tap dance right now if asked.

  The car U-turned and cruised away, Stella’s arm on the open window, her straight-ahead gaze visible in the wing mirror.

  Moira trotted over to where Amy was propped up and said, ‘What’s going on here? Are you all right?’

  ‘Fine, just a jellyfish sting but it’s better now. Mum, why is Mitch here?’ Amy asked.

  ‘He’s teaching.’

  ‘That’s a lucky coincidence.’ Amy raised a brow.

  Moira stood with her hand on her hip. ‘I don’t know what you’re implying, darling, but there’s no funny business going on between myself and Mitch. I’m still married to your father – whether I like it or not.’

  Amy scoffed.

  ‘I like Mitch, we’re friends,’ Moira went on unabashed. ‘He makes me feel good about myself – which you may find hard to believe, but hasn’t happened in a very long time.’

  Amy sighed like her mother was overreacting, then said petulantly, ‘Well, I just wish our Mum would come back.’

  Moira stared at her, astonished she could say such a thing. ‘Well, young lady, you’ll be wishing for a long time,’ she said, ‘because she won’t be coming back. Because she is me. I am a person, Amy. A person.’ She jabbed her chest. ‘My name is Moira. And I have a right to be happy.’

  Amy rolled her eyes as though her mother was having some airy-fairy, yogi-inspired dramatic episode. ‘All right, Mum, calm down.’

  ‘I will not calm down. One day Amy, you’ll realise I am not just here to be at your beck and call. You wait till you have that baby, then you’ll understand.’

  Amy pulled a ‘whatever’ face.

  Moira turned away with a huff.

  The cicadas hummed.

  Moira paused halfway across the scrubby lawn. ‘And do you know something else?’

  ‘What?’ Amy spat, arms crossed.

  ‘I hate Emma Bridgewater china.’

  Amy looked horrified. ‘You do not.’

  ‘I do,’ Moira snapped. Then she paused. ‘Well no, I don’t hate it. I just don’t want any more of the bloody stuff,’ she said, before stalking away up the path.

  Amy turned to see Gus looking at her, expression derisive as though she’d behaved like a child. ‘Don’t look at me like that. You know nothing about it.’

  ‘I know enough to see that was out of order. What do you want her to do with her life, Amy? Stay at home and look after you?’ He rolled his eyes as if realising then and there that Amy would never change.

  Amy looked away, across at the arid dune. She nibbled on her fingernail, sulking and silent.

  Gus stood up and leant over the balcony. ‘You all right over there, Sonny?’

  ‘Yeah!’ Sonny yelled back.

  ‘OK, good.’ Gus glanced at Amy and then disappeared into their hut. His disappointment in her radiating like the heat.

  As Amy wondered if he was going to come back out again, he appeared with two glasses of water.

  ‘Here,’ he said, handing her one.

  ‘Thanks,’ she snapped.

  Gus was stony-faced. He sat with his glass cradled between his hands, elbows on his knees. ‘You know, today was the first time that I actually realised properly that we’re having a baby. I think before it was this thing that might go away, but today, when I thought everything was about to go wrong, I realised that I actually might like it.’<
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  Amy kept pouting.

  Gus rubbed his face with his hand, looked out at the dune then at Amy. ‘I would never have chosen this for my life—’

  ‘You’ve made that perfectly clear, Gus,’ Amy snapped.

  Gus ignored her. ‘But now it’s happening. And I acknowledge it’s happening. I thought today that it might be quite cool.’ He leant back, his expression a little softer as he exhaled. ‘But the thing is, Amy, if we’re going to do it, if we’re going to bring this kid up, I want to do it with you. I don’t want to do it with your mother or your sister. I appreciate they will be involved but this will be our kid. We have to work this out together, but I’m afraid that you’re just going to relinquish all responsibility when it’s born. I look at you and I think her husband died, she moved away and lives in London and seems to have quite a cool job. And I’m actually quite awed by your resilience. You’re even quite funny. And then other times I look at you – like just now with your mum – and I think holy shit, who is this girl? Did she really go through all that or is she making it up because I have no idea how?’

  Amy swallowed. No one had spoken to her like that before. No one had ever been so clear about both her achievements and her faults. His capacity to make her feel ashamed of herself knew no bounds. But what she hadn’t experienced before was the rush that came with his compliments. They were hard-won but unquestionably sincere. ‘You think I’m resilient?’ she said.

  ‘Yes,’ he said.

  She thought about what they’d discussed earlier. About Bobby. About the comfort of his memory. And she knew that when she considered walking the path ahead, it wasn’t just with Bobby watching, she had secretly squirrelled her mum and dad alongside as well. Her courage shamefully propped up by her parents.

  She took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  Gus shrugged. ‘Just say you’ll try.’

  Amy thought about it and nodded. ‘I’ll try. I promise I will try to try.’

  He laughed. ‘And apologise to your mother.’

  Amy made a face.

  ‘It’ll make you feel better,’ he said.

  ‘I feel fine,’ Amy retorted. Then as he gave her yet another condescending look she said, ‘I really don’t understand why you picked me, on Tinder.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ Gus replied flatly. ‘My friends set it up as a joke.’

  ‘Oh.’ Amy flushed with mortified shock.

  ‘Oh, come on! You’re not upset. Why did you pick me?’ Gus pointed to himself, to his face, to his nose.

  But she was upset. It hadn’t occurred to her that he wouldn’t have wanted to pick her. That he hadn’t been desperately reaching up out of his league. It was only now that she wondered if she was in fact out of his league. He was funny, as funny as she was good-looking, and that was currency. Maybe his funniness outweighed her prettiness? She imagined him and his bunch of acerbically witty friends having a good laugh over her picture. Maybe, she flinched at the thought, she was out of his league.

  ‘Well?’ Gus pushed. ‘Why did you pick me?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Amy said, her cheeks going red. The rug swept from under her by this possible reversal of fortune.

  ‘Yes you do.’

  She looked away. ‘It was the same,’ she admitted. ‘My friends thought you’d be a good person to ease my way in with.’

  ‘Like use for practise?’ Gus clarified.

  Amy winced and nodded.

  ‘I can’t believe you could be upset that I was set up with you when you were using me.’ Gus shook his head, laughing in disbelief.

  Amy didn’t have an answer for it. Only that maybe she wasn’t used to not stealing the show – to not being granted a free pass to the top based on looks alone. ‘It’s different when you hear it about yourself,’ she said.

  ‘Well, now we’re even,’ Gus joked.

  Amy only half-smiled. She drank some water. She felt suddenly a bit awkward and self-conscious around him. When the towel under her foot slipped as she moved and he went to put it back she didn’t want him to, didn’t want him to look at her gross swollen foot.

  Completely oblivious, Gus stretched himself out and said, ‘I take it Bobby was a man like Jack? The kind of guy who could carry you down the beach?’

  Amy nodded.

  ‘That’s your type,’ he said.

  She paused. ‘It always has been.’

  They both sipped their drinks.

  ‘I’m not sure Bobby would have stolen a dinghy from a small child though.’ Amy smiled.

  Gus laughed. ‘No, probably not. I did have to check his dad out first – looked like a real wimp. I knew I’d be OK.’

  Amy sniggered.

  Gus put his hands behind his head, pleased with himself. ‘Sonny, you still there?’ he shouted.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Good.’ Then rolling his head her way, Gus said, ‘I was thinking Algernon. As a name. If it’s a boy.’

  Amy raised a brow. ‘You’d better be joking.’

  Gus shrugged, face blank, eyes possibly smiling.

  ‘It doesn’t matter anyway,’ Amy flicked her hair, ‘I’m calling it Apple. I’ve known it’s what I’m going to call my kid since the moment Gwyneth Paltrow called hers Apple. I love it.’

  Gus swallowed. ‘I was only joking about Algernon. Please don’t call it Apple,’ he said, voice rising in panic.

  Amy grinned. ‘As if. I’m not going to call my kid after a fruit, for goodness sake.’

  Gus exhaled. ‘Thank God for that.’

  ‘I can be as funny as you, Gus,’ Amy said. ‘When I want to be.’

  Gus snorted as if that was highly unlikely. ‘If you say so.’

  ‘I do,’ Amy replied with certainty, fluffing her hair, raising her chin slightly in the air and feeling happily like she’d rectified the balance, a momentary lapse in confidence on her part back to normal.

  CHAPTER 33

  The afternoon brought with it clouds from the sea, drifting in a lazy blanket over the bright red sun, the sky marbled in veins of colour.

  Jack had dropped Stella back at the hut and taken Rosie to a nearby playground with a skatepark that they’d spotted on the way home. Amy was napping. Sonny was sitting at the picnic table on his phone. Gus was helping Stella unpack the shopping. In the distance Moira, Mitch and Vasco were sitting cross-legged on the platform meditating towards the wind-licked sea.

  ‘How was Sonny?’ Stella asked, pulling bread and a bunch of bananas out of one of the shopping bags.

  ‘Fine,’ Gus replied, putting milk in the fridge, a little hesitant of Stella’s coiled-spring mood. ‘No problem at all.’

  Red and white plastic bags dotted the tiny floor space. There was barely room to open the fridge with two of them in the room.

  ‘He’s so silly not coming.’ Stella shook her head. ‘The supermarket was really cool. We ended up stopping for ice cream.’

  Gus paused as he took some yoghurts from the bag. He could totally understand not wanting to go to the supermarket and stay at home playing computer games. He would love to be able to sit around all day playing computer games. ‘Stella, you know that Sonny loves what he does?’

  Stella glanced up from where she was rooting about in one of the bags. ‘What? Playing on his phone?’ she said, tone belittling.

  ‘Yes,’ Gus pressed. He put the yoghurts in the fridge and was about to shut the door when Stella handed him a block of cheese. ‘Would you have a similar problem if he was into a sport or chess club or something?’

  ‘What?’ Stella was tipping peaches into a bowl. ‘No.’ She thought briefly about what he’d asked. ‘No, because they’re—’ she searched for the right word.

  Gus waited, arms crossed.

  ‘They’re real,’ she said. ‘If it was sport he’d be outside in the fresh air.’

  ‘He was outside.’ Gus pointed to the veranda.

  Stella made a face as if he was being facetious.

  Gus sighed. He couldn’t win so
he went back to unpacking. When he’d done his last bag he stretched and said, ‘You know he’s really good at what he does? Yeah?’

  Stella was walking over to the table with the fruit bowl. She paused. ‘What do you mean – good?’

  ‘Like he’s just really good. I can’t beat him.’

  ‘But it’s computer games,’ she said dismissively, placing the bowl down and walking away with a shake of her head. ‘I just don’t understand the appeal.’

  Gus sat down at the table and picked a peach from the bowl. ‘It doesn’t matter if you understand it.’

  Stella frowned.

  Gus chucked the peach in the air. ‘It’s a multi-trillion-pound industry. It’s probably the main growth market of the entertainment sector. By slagging it off you’re just marking yourself out as a different generation.’

  She gave him a warning glance.

  Gus smiled. She didn’t scare him, well only a bit. ‘And it’s a shame that you don’t try and understand it because your kid’s got talent.’

  Stella slid herself into the seat opposite him. ‘But there’s so much more to life than a screen.’

  ‘Not to him.’ Gus took a bite of his peach. He’d chosen poorly – too hard and not very juicy. ‘I always pick substandard fruit.’

  Stella picked up a peach, taking her time to select the ripest. ‘So, why do you think he’s got talent?’

  Gus watched her bite into her super-juicy peach, it looked like a really good one – yellow flesh, lots of juice, red around the stone. He shook his head with jealousy. Stella smirked.

  Gus narrowed his eyes. ‘Ever asked Sonny about that game he’s playing on his phone right now?’

  Stella shook her head.

  ‘You know he designed it? You know he built it?’

  Stella looked a little less smug about her peach. ‘No.’

  ‘It’s rough around the edges but it’s pretty addictive.’

  ‘I didn’t know that,’ Stella said.

  ‘No.’ Gus shook his head. ‘People play it. It’s free and popular.’