‘It is a bit like that, isn’t it?’ Scott said, taking a beer from Phoebe who’d brought in a bottle for him and a coffee for her dad. ‘We’ve got a brewery one way, a fracking site just over the hills behind us…’
‘The fun never starts,’ Tammy said sarcastically.
‘I’d be interested in seeing the fracking site,’ Jeremy continued. He stopped, conscious that the others were looking at him. ‘What? I’m interested, can’t help it. It’s not a million miles removed from my line of work. I’ve been talking to another firm about going into partnership on a project in Yorkshire of all places. Once they’ve sorted out the PR side of things, of course. Have you had any earthquakes yet?’ George waddled into the room. ‘I can’t get over how you’ve grown,’ Jeremy said to him. ‘When I last saw you, you were just a titchy little fella, not a big strapping man like this.’
Michelle came in from the kitchen and watched Scott from a distance, trying to gauge his reaction as Jeremy interacted with his son. He looked as uncomfortable as she’d expected, but at least he was keeping his temper in check. Conflict between the two men had been an issue in the past, particularly when the girls had been younger. Scott had always accepted that Tammy and Phoebe needed to spend time with their father, but he’d struggled with the realities and practicalities. In fact, it hadn’t been until he’d become a father himself that he’d finally started to understand the emotions and unspoken needs at play.
‘Oh, I nearly forgot,’ Jeremy said, ducking back out into the hall to fetch a plastic carrier bag. Glass bottles clinked together as he picked it up. He gave a bottle of wine to Michelle (her favourite label… she was touched that he remembered) and handed a bottle of scotch to Scott who seemed genuinely surprised. ‘The best I could find on the way into Thussock, so not great I’m afraid. Supermarket’s own.’
‘Thanks,’ Scott said, checking out the label. ‘A malt. You shouldn’t have.’
‘Nonsense. You’re both being very hospitable and I appreciate it. Understanding too.’
‘Want a shot of this in your coffee?’
‘No thanks, I’m driving.’
‘You could stay here if you wanted a drink,’ Michelle said. Scott bit his tongue and glared at her. ‘We’re out of beds, but the sofa’s pretty comfortable.’
She might not have picked up on her husband’s unease, but Jeremy did. ‘What, and miss out on staying over at the Black Boy? Hell of a place, your local.’
‘Something to do with a sheepdog, isn’t it?’ Scott said. ‘You’d think they’d change the name. I thought twice about going in there for a drink, so fair play to you for spending the night.’
‘I haven’t done it yet,’ he laughed. ‘Not a lot of choice around here though.’
‘You’re lucky you managed to get a room,’ Michelle said. ‘It’s not the biggest pub.’
‘Don’t think that was ever going to be a problem. I think I’m the only guest there right now. And judging by the state of the room they’ve given me, I get the impression I’m the first person they’ve had there in a long time.’
‘Can’t say I’m surprised,’ Michelle said. ‘Anyway, the offer’s there. If you feel like getting drunk or decide you can’t stand the thought of the pub, you can bed down here.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ he said quickly. ‘I’m looking at it as an adventure. I’ve stopped in far worse places. At least here we all speak the same language.’
‘You reckon?’ Tammy laughed. ‘Have you heard how they talk, Dad? I don’t have a clue what they’re saying half the time. I had to ask a teacher to say the same thing four times today. Made me look like a right idiot.’
‘I just keep nodding my head and make the right noises when they pause for breath,’ Michelle admitted.
‘So you’re finding the locals a challenge?’
‘Everything’s a challenge,’ Tammy answered quickly.
‘She’s exaggerating,’ Michelle said. ‘She always exaggerates. The people are fine.’
‘Those who are still alive,’ Tammy said under her breath.
Michelle felt the mood in the room immediately change.
‘What did you have to say that for?’
Tammy shrugged her shoulders then turned to her dad. ‘You’ve heard about Thussock’s little problem, I take it?’
‘I’ve heard.’
‘And what do you think?’
Jeremy looked around the room. Michelle was watching him, Scott was glaring at him, Phoebe was chewing her bottom lip anxiously… even George looked unsure.
‘I think it’s very sad and very worrying,’ he said. ‘But I also think you’ll all be okay. Scott’s here, and he’s not going to let anything happen to any of you, isn’t that right, Scott?’
‘Absolutely.’
Another pregnant pause. Awkward. Uncomfortable.
‘Right, let’s eat,’ Michelle said, her voice overly enthusiastic. ‘Who’s hungry?’
Jeremy stayed at the house until almost eleven. The evening was, for the most part, unexpectedly enjoyable and inevitably awkward in equal measure. The girls had gone up to their rooms just after ten, the initial novelty of having their dad around having worn off. He joked that they’d always liked the idea of being with him better than the reality. They made plans for him to pick them up after school tomorrow and spend a little time together.
Things soured soon after the girls had left. Scott disappeared, leaving Jeremy and Michelle alone in the living room. ‘Weird, isn’t it?’ Jeremy said.
‘What is?’
‘This. The fact it feels reasonably normal to be sitting here talking like this. We’ve lived apart for years yet it’s like we’ve hardly been out of the room.’
‘Suppose. We spent a lot of time together. A lot of good times to start with.’
‘I know, but when you think how long it’s been… In some ways you’ve hardly changed, Chelle.’
‘Is that meant to be a compliment?’
‘I guess,’ he said. Jeremy watched his ex-wife watching him, wondering whether he should stop talking now. He’d had a question on the tip of his tongue all evening. ‘Look, if I’m out of line, tell me to shut up, but are you sure you’re okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ she answered quickly. ‘Just tired, that’s all. It’s been a tough few months. Mentally and physically.’
‘I’m not convinced.’
‘Honestly, Jeremy. Look, I hear what you’re saying, but we’ve barely seen each other for years. How do you know I’m not always like this?’
‘I hope you’re not. That’d make it even worse.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
He sighed. Did he really want to do this? Then again, could he afford not to? ‘I’ve got a memory of one particular night just before we split up. You probably wouldn’t even remember it. We weren’t fighting or arguing, we were just trying to live together and failing miserably. I remember watching you watching TV and thinking, something’s not right here… but I couldn’t put my finger on it. It’s hard to explain, but looking back I think that’s when I first knew we were in trouble. It was what you weren’t saying that was important, not what you said. There was no connection anymore. The spark had gone out. You looked like you were lost. Remember that tatty old armchair we had? The one Mum gave me? You were sitting on it with your knees pulled up to your chest, watching TV. You looked so small, so vulnerable… I didn’t realise it was me making you feel that way.’
‘What point are you making?’
‘That you’ve been giving off the same vibes all evening.’
‘So maybe it’s having you around again that’s making me feel this way?’