The House We Called Home

by Jenny Oliver

  Gus rolled away from her to turn off the light. ‘Good night,’ he said.

  ‘Night.’ She stared at his back in the darkness. Lying this close, she remembered snippets of the night they’d had sex. The drunken giggling. The lip-clashing kissing. The laughing stumbling. The unexpected heat. The smell of his skin.

  Before Gus she’d only ever had sex with Bobby and Bobby always smelt of Acqua di Giò Homme.

  Amy inched her way forward on her bed as quietly as she could, stretching her neck so she could smell him better.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Gus’s voice filled the darkness.

  Amy shot back on her bed. ‘Nothing!’

  Gus flipped over. ‘Do I smell? You were sniffing.’

  ‘I was not!’ Amy’s cheeks felt like a flashing beacon in the dark.

  ‘You were.’ Gus propped himself up on his elbow. ‘Remember, I have excellent hearing.’

  Amy lay completely still. She could see the vague outline of his face as her eyes adjusted to the dark.

  ‘Why were you sniffing, Amy?’

  ‘No reason.’

  Neither of them said anything. There was just the noise of the wind whistling and the fridge humming.

  Amy whispered, ‘I was smelling you.’

  Gus paused. ‘You were?’

  Amy nodded.

  Neither of them said anything.

  Gus cleared his throat. ‘Why were you smelling me?’

  Amy swallowed. ‘Because I remembered liking how you smelt that night, you know?’

  ‘The night we got blind drunk and had sex?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Right.’

  The silence hung in the air.

  Amy felt weird. The darkness seemed to magnify her every tiny emotion. She wasn’t sure if they were flirting or if she just wanted someone to put their arms round her. She wasn’t sure if she found him funny or if she fancied him. She didn’t know if she wanted him to fancy her just to prove that she had the one-upmanship of the relationship or because it would genuinely make her feel good if he did. She was one half neediness and the other half needing to prove that she wasn’t. As she stared at him in the darkness she found herself saying, ‘You can kiss me if you want,’ almost like she was offering him a reward.

  Gus frowned. Shifted his position. Scratched his head. ‘Urm. I don’t think that’s a good idea, Amy.’

  ‘Oh.’ Amy rolled onto her back, immediately humiliated, wrapping herself tight with the sheet, stinging with the sense of rejection. ‘You don’t want to kiss me?’

  ‘No, it’s not that.’ Gus winced. He reached to the floor and pulled on a T-shirt. ‘But we’re just starting to be friends. And we’ve already established that I’m not your type and you’re not mine. So, you wouldn’t want to mess that all up for a quick shag, would you?’ He laughed as he said the last bit, trying to keep the tone light.

  ‘It was only a kiss,’ she muttered.

  ‘Well a kiss then.’ Gus shook his head, exasperated and amused. ‘Come on, Amy.’

  But Amy was floundering, she couldn’t come on. She couldn’t laugh it off. Because part of her had wanted him to deem her irresistible. She wanted his feelings to be as confused and muddled as hers. She wanted him to struggle not turn her down outright.

  ‘We might not have messed it up, you know,’ she said a little sulkily, rolling away from him to face the wall. ‘We might have made it better. And then we might have been a family. For the baby.’

  ‘Oh my God. Are you serious?’ She heard Gus flop back on the bed. ‘As if having a baby wasn’t bad enough, now you want me stuck in a bad relationship because of it!’

  Amy felt her bottom lip tremble. Wishing suddenly that she hadn’t said the last bit. It had been a mistake, tipped the balance. All Gus’s good humour gone. She wasn’t even sure if she had meant it, simply talking out of dejection. Heaping on to the moment all her wishful fantasies of the past.

  Gus was bashing his pillow, more out of frustration than to plump it up, then he thumped his head down and hoiking up the sheet said angrily, ‘Goodnight, Amy.’

  ‘Yeah. Whatever,’ she replied, quiet and spiteful.

  He didn’t reply. Not even a sarcastic quip about how grown-up she was.

  Amy curled herself up into a little ball on her narrow single bed, facing the wooden slatted wall.

  After a minute or two Gus’s breathing changed to sleep.

  The sun came up and the darkness of the room faded, and Amy watched the grain of the wood appear before her eyes.

  CHAPTER 36

  In the next door hut, Stella woke up at sunrise. She couldn’t get back to sleep, too many thoughts in her head. As quiet as she could she got dressed. Outside the early morning mist hung in the air like Spanish moss dripping heavy from branches. The camp site was glass quiet. Completely still. The sun red. A huge hare lopped across the path as Stella walked down to the beach where she sat on the highest dune watching the dawn kite-surfers whipping through the waves.

  She wanted this over now. She wanted her dad found. She wanted to be able to breathe properly again. She got her phone out and looked back at the Neptune013 Instagram picture to see if there was anything she’d missed. Nothing.

  Then scrolling absently through the rest of her feed, she found herself looking at picture after picture by Sxnny.x1x2 she hadn’t realised he’d posted. After the lawnmower-petrol-stealing shot was Jack skateboarding ‘Gnarly old man!!!’, Sonny’s empty Pimm’s glass at the table ‘#wasted’ – Stella winced – and then a host of shots from the plane window, the wind-chime palm trees, Vasco carrying Rosie, Amy’s swollen ankle, even one of Stella trying and failing to master his game which she could only assume Gus must have taken. The final one was of last night’s magnificent sunset taken from the beach café – a giant sinking orb and a river of red on the sea – ‘Missing out, Grandpa!’

  She scrolled through the Instagram feed again, this time trying to imagine herself as her father. Not as hard as she might have thought. Maybe they were more similar than she allowed herself to believe. She remembered Sonny vehemently denying any resemblance to Stella the afternoon before, but it was plain as day to everyone else.

  So she sat there, toes buried in the sand, eyes fixed on the wave-licked horizon, trying to embody her dad. Trying to imagine what it had all been like. Imagining the loss of Bobby dying, imagining the wide-open nothingness on his own horizon, imagining the disconnect with her mother, the fresh gap left by Amy, the old gap left by Stella, the realisation that there was no one left for him. His world had shrunk to one.

  Then Sonny turns up. A little ray of hope. Stella put her hand on her chest, thinking of the sweet little relationship that had formed over Sonny’s two-week banishment that would soon be back to awkward, fleeting visits with the black-sheep daughter.

  Stella thought about how she’d felt when she first got to Cornwall, when she was almost afraid of seeing her own son and her husband had announced he’d been living a strange double life – how she would have gladly upped sticks and fled.

  The sun shimmered bright and blinding through the sea mist. Stella closed her eyes. She tried to imagine, were she to have fled, how she would have felt discovering Sonny posting all these Instagram pictures for her, to show her the life that she was missing. To show her that she was missed, not just by him but by everyone. That they had crossed countries to try and find her. That her world was not one.

  It brought a lump to her throat.

  But she knew also that he might now be in a bit of a catch-22. Go home and it all stops. Ring one of them up and feel like a fool for causing such a fuss. Pride was at stake, and he certainly wasn’t the type to willingly feel like a loser.

  Stella looked out at the huge, choppy white waves, watched them crash and tumble to the shore. She wondered if he’d pick up if she called him. She never called him. She wasn’t even sure if his number was in her contacts.

  In her head, her calling him would be different to her mum or Am
y because it would be a show of appeasement. It would bring with it the possibility of him building a proper relationship with Sonny. If nothing else it would be her pride on the line rather than his.

  She blew out a breath, considering whether she was the bigger person.

  She screwed up her hands. Why did it have to be her pride? ‘Damn it,’ she said out loud. Then she thought of the pitifully disappointed looks she would get from Sonny, Jack and Rosie, Amy, maybe her mother, even Gus if they saw her battling such a petty loss-of-pride-based decision.

  Reluctantly she reached into her pocket and scrolled through the contacts on her phone. There it was: ‘Dad Mobile’.

  She called. It went straight to answerphone.

  On the second attempt he picked up.

  CHAPTER 37

  Stella scrawled a note on piece of paper and left it on the table in the kitchen. She grabbed the car keys and, without pausing in case she changed her mind, she started to walk to the car park. At the far end of the path she noticed all the yoga lot, arms raised to the sun, and the glint of her mother’s copper hair as she looked round and saw her.

  Stella waved and walked on. She was beeping the car unlocked when she heard running footsteps behind her and turned to see Moira, her cloud of red hair swept back as she jogged.

  ‘Where are you going, Stella? Is everything all right?’

  Stella walked back to meet her. ‘Fine. Everything’s fine.’ She fiddled with the car key. Her mother was out of breath as she stopped, hands on hips. Stella thought about lying but didn’t have the energy. ‘I called Dad.’

  ‘And he answered?’ Her mother frowned.

  Stella nodded.

  Moira shook her head in disbelief. ‘Well, I should have known.’

  Stella remembered the realisation at the Portuguese pool – of being her dad’s favourite at her mother’s expense – and worried suddenly that Moira was going to go mad, get really angry like she had in the past.

  But she didn’t go mad. Instead her mum took a big breath in through her nose and said, ‘Don’t let him bully you, Stella. You make sure you stand your ground.’

  Stella frowned. That was not what she was expecting.

  The sun flickered through the mist, hazing outlines and casting long shadows.

  Moira glanced back to the yoga, thinking for a minute. Then she turned back to Stella. ‘Do you know what, I’m coming with you.’

  ‘No, Mum, you don’t have to.’

  Someone else had stood up from the yoga platform and was walking their way. It was Mitch. Striding purposely in his white flowing trousers and shirt.

  They both waited for him to reach them, shielding their eyes from the glare of the morning sun.

  ‘Everything all right here?’ he asked when he drew near. ‘Do you need any help?’

  ‘No we’re fine, Mitch,’ Moira said. ‘Stella has located her father. I think I’m going to go with her.’

  ‘Mum, seriously, I’m OK going on my own.’ Stella could just imagine her dad’s face if she turned up with her mother in tow.

  Moira shook her head.

  Stella glanced at Mitch for support.

  ‘If she wants to go on her own, Moira—’ Mitch started.

  ‘No!’ Moira shook her head. ‘Just no. I know you think I should let them all do stuff on their own. But no. I didn’t stand up for Stella before so I’m damn well going to now.’ She turned to Stella. ‘You are not going on your own.’

  ‘Going where?’ A voice said from further back up the path. Amy appeared at the top of the hill wearing her pyjamas.

  ‘Stella’s found your father,’ Moira called. ‘We’re going to meet him.’

  Amy frowned. ‘Well, I’m coming.’

  It was too much for Stella, who was still reeling from her mother’s declaration of support. ‘No.’ She shook her head.

  ‘Don’t tell me no,’ Amy said. ‘You’re not the boss. I can’t believe you were going to go without telling me. Wait while I get changed.’ Amy dashed away back to the hut.

  ‘Oh God.’ Stella looked away.

  Moira stood with her arms crossed, braced and ready.

  Mitch looked like he was trying not to smile. ‘It’s good,’ he said.

  Stella rolled her eyes. She heard the hut door shut. ‘OK, that’s Amy. Let’s go.’

  But it wasn’t Amy. It was Sonny. ‘I just saw Amy,’ he said, jogging down to join them, wearing hastily pulled on shorts and a T-shirt. ‘I can’t believe you were going to go without me.’

  Stella covered her face with her hands.

  There was another slam of the door. ‘No, you can’t come,’ she heard Amy say, and then both she and Gus appeared on the little hill. Gus was yawning, yanking on a T-shirt as he walked, paying no attention whatsoever to Amy.

  Next came the thumping patter of Rosie, zooming across the scrubland in her nightie, clutching her dress and flip-flops. ‘This is it!’ she shouted. ‘This is the adventure!’

  Jack appeared behind her looking half like he’d just woken up, the other half cringing slightly for Stella, having deduced what had happened and knowing exactly how she’d be feeling.

  ‘Looks like you’re all going,’ Mitch laughed.

  ‘I’m glad you find it so funny,’ Stella said, turning her back on him to walk away.

  ‘It’s always better to laugh in situations like this, Stella,’ Mitch called after her.

  She shook her head without looking back.

  * * *

  The drive was predominantly silent. Everyone on tenterhooks. Everyone a little nervous. Moira sat in the front next to Stella, suddenly like her bodyguard. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked at intervals.

  ‘Fine,’ Stella replied.

  Sonny was directing from the back on his phone. ‘Left here!’ he shouted.

  Stella indicated and turned down a side street that was all little white villas and big red hibiscus flowers. Standing outside one was her dad. His tall frame leaning stiffly against the stone wall, dressed in grey sweat shorts and a white T-shirt. She hadn’t seen him in shorts for years, or flip-flops for that matter. His arms were tanned. His black curly hair smattered with more grey than last time she’d seen him. The lines on his face deeper.

  ‘Well, look what the cat dragged in,’ Moira muttered under her breath.

  Stella parked the giant tinted-windowed SUV and jumped out. Her dad stepped forward. ‘Everyone’s here,’ she said quickly, before the side door slid open and the whole lot of them spilt out on to the pavement.

  Her dad’s eyes widened. He looked for a second like he might flee, then Sonny shouted, ‘Grandpa!’ and ran towards him, about to hug him then pausing, not quite sure what to do, so instead stood where he was and said, breathless with excitement, ‘Did you see my Instagrams?’

  Stella watched her dad as he took a deep breath, unclenching his hands.

  ‘I did. I enjoyed them,’ he said.

  Sonny nodded, grinning, then reached forward and gave him an awkward, tentative hug and she saw her dad’s shoulders relax. Then he opened the gate and walked through first, Sonny by his side.

  Inside was a big lush garden, more hibiscus bushes fringed the lawn alongside towering palms, there were odd white statues, bougainvillea-draped window awnings and luminous green grass. To the right was a wide mosaic pool. Behind that was a low haphazard bungalow – a glimpse through the fly-screen of the open door showed a TV flickering and dark wood furniture covered in bright-coloured throws.

  Amy squeezed to the front of the group to get closer to her dad, throwing her arms around him tight. ‘Daddy! I’m so pleased you’re all right. I was scared someone might have kidnapped you.’

  Her dad did one of his laughs reserved just for Amy, humouring her. Enabling her dippiness.

  ‘Daddy, things are awful,’ she carried on, whiny. ‘I’m pregnant, and Gus there is the father and we’re not a couple.’

  Gus froze in horror.

  ‘And he’s only slightly sure if he even wants
the baby,’ Amy added, looping her arm through her dad’s, holding him tight to her.

  Gus looked like he could barely hold it together, spitting rage that Stella didn’t think him capable of while having to swallow and reach out his hand in an awkwardly polite attempt to shake her dad’s. ‘Nice to meet you,’ he said, tone expressionless, like he actually couldn’t care less whether this guy was about to smack him in the face, he was done with it all.

  Stella watched her dad size him up, look at the hand. He gave it a second’s worth of a shake, if that, then reached round and stroked the side of Amy’s hair. ‘It’ll be all right, Pumpkin,’ he said. ‘You can come back and live with me. I’ll look after you.’

  ‘You’ll do what?’ Moira stalked forward from the back of the group. ‘You’ll do no such thing. Since when have you known how to take care of a baby?’

  ‘I know how to take care of a baby, Moira.’

  ‘Graham, we had these two when we did so they could fit in with Olympic Games years. I could count the times you changed a nappy on one hand.’

  They stood glaring at each other.

  Gus tried to get Amy’s attention but she stayed where she was, pouting. ‘Are you really doing this?’ he said.

  Amy turned her face into her dad’s sleeve.

  Gus exhaled, long and slow, expression appalled. Then he held his hands up to the sky and said, ‘You know what? You do what you like.’ And turned and walked away.

  ‘Gus, where are you going?’ Sonny shouted.

  But Gus didn’t turn around.

  Stella watched her dad frown. ‘What is going on here? Who is he?’ he asked. ‘How do you even know him, Amy?’

  But no one answered.

  It felt to Stella exactly like it always did. Her dad was back and the little gang they’d formed had disbanded in one fell swoop. Like their old familiar roles were too ingrained. Too alluring. She could already imagine Amy handing her passport back at the end of the trip.