“Thank you, Dad… Goodbye.”
He pushed the creaky garden gateoddly, it didnt make a soundhinges freshly oiled.
“Good on ya, Geoff,” he muttered. Of course, itd be the neighbour. Who else would bother?
He crossed the yard, dropped his rucksack by the porch, circled back, then touched the tarnished brass lockout of habit, really.
The key…
Geoffrey had one, but he couldnt be bothered to fetch him. Too tired. Then he rememberedfelt along the doorframe, fingers brushing a frayed bit of twine. There it was.
The lock clicked open with ease, and he stepped into the breezy sunroom. Delicate lace curtains swayed, embroidered by Tinastill hanging after all these years. He moved through the house without turning on the lights.
It smelled like home. His eyes pricked. His heart hammered like a trapped sparrow. Blimey. Fumbled his pocketsbloody pills still in the rucksack. Stumbled back, snatched it, slipped a tiny lifesaver under his tongue. The pounding dulled, the ringing faded, though his temples still throbbed. No matteritd pass.
He sat. Peace.
Home.
“Whos there?” A voice from the open door. “Oi?”
“Me, Dave.”
“Ethan? That you?”
“Yeah.”
“Whereve you been? Your Natalie came bysaid you were in hospital, something about not knowing whats next.”
“Theyll be waiting a while,” he chuckled. “Who’d she bring?”
“Dunno. Some posh lot. Nat kept pointing things out. Reckon they’re buyers.”
“Right. Well, nothing here now. Suppose Ill manage. The missus cooked supperfancy joining us?”
“Nah, ta. Cheers for looking after the place.”
“Dont be daft. Come on, then?”
“Ta… Im home.”
“Alright, Ill be quick.”
As if hed leave. This was his.
He sat by the window till dawn, sunlight streaking in. Stretched, wandered outsidechecked the shed, the woodshed, the garden. Everything tidy.
By noon, an engine growled. A car. Natalies new motor?
Laughing, chattering strangers hauled bags and suitcases. Natalie? How? Sold the house behind his back?
“Scuse me, whatre you doing?”
“We live here now. You the old owner?”
“Live here? Who said you could?”
“We bought it,” piped a little boy, barely four, tilting his head. The others ignored him, hauling boxes.
“Bought it from who? Natalie? Not on my watch” He slammed the door. They opened it again, muttering about a draft. Draft? The windows were shut!
“Ill call the police!” He barricaded himself insideuseless against their strength. The door groaned open.
“Hinges need oiling,” smirked a burly bloke. “Squeaky.”
Oh, Natalie. Couldnt wait, could you? Sold it. Wheres he to go now?
“Grandad, will you stay with us?”
“What? No! And you wont stay either! Natalie, whatve you done?”
He snatched old albums, photosTinas drawings.
“Ring the old owner, will you? Andy, shut the doorwinds messing everything up.”
“Mum, will he live with us?” The boy pointed at a portrait.
“Thats the last owner, love. Pack it up.”
They wouldnt listen.
A knock. Natalie.
“Natalie, love” She breezed past, just like her mum. “Nat!”
“She cant hear you,” the boy whispered.
“What? You can.”
“They say Im fibbing. WatchMum! Do you see this grandad?”
“Mikey, enough! Go to your room.”
“See? They cant.”
“But… you can?”
“Yeah.”
“Ask Nataliemy daughter, in the red coatcan she see me?”
The boy darted over.
“Natalie, do you see your dad?”
“My dad?”
“Hes here. He doesnt understand why you sold the house.”
The room froze.
“Mikey… describe him.”
The boy did.
“Its just his imagination”
“Tell her,” the old man whispered. “Remember when we flew to Spain? You screamed, seeing clouds from above?”
The boy relayed it. Natalie paled.
“Or when you hid from Farmer Cobbs geese? Sat under the apple tree, waiting for one to bonk your head? Year Sixyou fancied Liam, kept pinching him till his mum came round… my first crush, remember?”
“Dad…?”
“He says he loves you. Hell always be near.”
The room wept.
Natalie sat on the bench, the boy beside her.
“Dad…”
“Ive got to go, love.”
“Dont…”
“Hes gone,” the boy murmured. “But hes close. And… he said Amys having a boy.”
“A boy? The scan said girl!”
Her phone rang.
“Hello? A boy? Butwe picked a girls name! Oh… alright.”
She gazed at the sky.
“Thank you, Dad… and goodbye.”
