Page 9 of A Snowy Seaside Christmas
‘Hey, Dad.’ She couldn’t keep the smile from her voice. ‘I was just about to call you.’ It was always good to hear from her father; it had been a while since they’d last spoken so his call was more than welcome. Not only did she want to hear how he’d been doing, but she was also eager to tell him about Crayke’s Cottage and the suitcases.
‘Hello, sweetheart, I must’ve picked up on your thoughts,’ he said with an affectionate chuckle.
‘You must’ve.’ Lark laughed, too. Unlike her and her mother, her father didn’t possess their extrasensory gift, so she knew he thought it highly unlikely.
‘So, how’s things with you?’
‘Good, thanks. Actually, Dad, I’m glad you called, I’ve got something I want to run by you.’ Lark made her way over to the sofa, dropping onto it and curling her feet beneath her.
‘Oh, aye, and what’s that, then?’
‘I’ll tell you all about it in a minute, but first of all, how’re you doing? What have you been up to?’ She’d heard so little from him since he’d lost Greer, she sensed he’d called for a reason, that he had something to tell her.
‘I’m fine.’ He paused, and she could sense his anticipation travelling down the phone line. Lark was just about to say something to fill the gap, when he spoke, stopping her in her tracks. ‘I’ve put the house on the market.’
Her breath caught in her throat, and she took a moment to absorb the implications of his words.I’ve put the house on the market.This was a big step for him.Huge.
‘And how do you feel about that? Are you okay with it?’ Myriad thoughts tumbled into her mind. Was he really ready to leave the place he’d spent so many happy years with Greer?
Denley House had passed to Greer on her mother’s death some six years before she and Silas had become an item. It was where she’d lived with Mick, her partner, for two of the four years they were together. A great, rambling Edwardian property, Lark had always been aware her dad had never felt completely comfortable living there, not least because Mick liked to pay them drunken visits, accusing Greer of diddling him out of what he believed should have been his “rightful share” in the house when they’d broken up. He’d stagger about in the front garden and yell that he was going to haul her to court and sue her for what was owed to him, claiming it was what he deserved for putting up with “a stuck-up cow” like her for so long. Greer and Silas had been forced to call the police on a number of occasions when Mick’s ranting and thumping at the door had begun to disturb the neighbours. He’d only gone quiet once a restraining order had been slapped on him.
‘I feel surprisingly calm about it, and actually quite positive, if I’m being honest,’ her dad said.
Was that a tiny hint of optimism she detected in his voice?
‘That’s good to hear.’
‘And I’ve had an offer – it’s from the first couple who viewed it actually, a Mr and Mrs Seaton.’ From his tone, Lark thought it sounded almost as if he couldn’t quite believe it. ‘They’ve gotfour lads – all under the age of ten, full of beans and bounce – and they’re chain-free. They told me they’re renting somewhere at the moment, which is a bit of a squash by all accounts, so they’re keen to get the ball rolling as soon as possible.’
‘That’s fantastic news! You always said it would make a wonderful family home.’
‘I did, yeah.’ She heard him draw in a deep breath. ‘I know Greer loved it, but in all honesty, it was wasted on us. We should’ve moved somewhere smaller years ago, let a family have the chance to enjoy it. I’m just rattling around it here on my own; seems such a waste.’ He paused again and Lark could almost hear the cogs of his mind grinding away. ‘You don’t… you don’t think I’m being disrespectful to Greer’s memory, do you? It doesn’t look like I’m getting rid of her house as soon as I can, does it? I’d hate to give anyone the wrong impression.’
‘Oh, Dad, of course it doesn’t! I promise you, no one will think either of those things. You really mustn’t torture yourself with stuff like this.’ She wished he was here with her so she could throw her arms around him and squeeze him tight, reassure him. He had the biggest heart, was always kind and considerate and put the feelings of others before his own, at times, too much so. They were qualities he’d passed to his daughter. ‘It’s been almost three years. Greer wouldn’t want you to be rattling round the place on your own. She’d be thrilled to think it was going to be filled with a family, especially four boisterous lads.’
Her mum’s comment a couple of months ago drifted into her mind, how she’d said he needed to “let go and move on”. Though Lark knew it hadn’t been meant as cold and heartless as it had sounded – her mum was worried for him and how his usually sunny disposition had all but extinguished since Greer had passed away – Lark still felt her mum’s words seemed too harsh to use on her dad, especially when he’d only just started to take tentative steps away from his grief. She’d made a note toremind her mum not to use such expressions the next time she spoke to him. She didn’t want anything to set him back.
Her father’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Aye, you’re right, Greer would love to think of a family enjoying this place, ’specially the garden. Imagine the games of football that’ll be played in it when the Seaton lads move in. She always said it was the perfect house for kids, was desperate for us to have some of our own, till we realised it was never going to happen,’ he said wistfully. ‘Mind, she used to love it when you came round with your friends.’
Oh, Dad.Lark felt a lump forming in her throat, the sting of tears in her eyes. In her last days, Greer had told Lark she loved her as if she’d been her own flesh and blood. It was a feeling Lark had reciprocated. ‘And I loved coming to stay with you both; my friends did, too.’ Though her visits to Denley House had been very different to the time she spent with her mum, she’d still loved going. Denley House was always neat and tidy, but not obsessively so, unlike her mum’s which was messy to the point of being chaotic, with the heady scent of incense permeating every inch of the place. Despite this, the cottage had been imbued with a strong sense of love and kindness, as had Denley House. And where her mum’s parenting style was laid-back, with any boundaries in place being best described as loose, there were rules to abide by at her dad and Greer’s home, the boundaries a little tighter, which was hardly surprising since both Silas and Greer were teachers at the local secondary school. Lark hadn’t minded adhering to their boundaries at all; if anything, she’d preferred it, it had made her feel somehow safer. Though both environments were dramatically different, Lark had felt equally at home in both. And though Greer may not have been a biological mother herself, it didn’t mean she wasn’t tuned in to what made children tick or how to entertain them. She may have been strict at times, but she’d had a great sense of fun.
Denley House itself had a generous-sized garden at the back with a spacious summerhouse that always smelt of warmth and dust. It was a space where Lark and her friends, Florrie, Jasmine and Stella, used to enjoy hanging out, chatting and laughing away. And when they weren’t in the summerhouse, they were eating ice lollies on the padded swing seats or tearing around the lawns or making dens under the branches of the trees using old blankets and towels. They were the best of times.
A thought popped into Lark’s mind. ‘So, have you found anywhere suitable to move to? I assume you’ve been looking.’
‘Aye, well, that’s the thing…’ The pause made Lark sit up straight. ‘I was thinking of moving back to Micklewick Bay. It’s been on my mind for a few months, actually, but I wanted to let the idea percolate a bit, see if I could really see myself living there again before I mentioned anything.’
‘Oh, Dad, that would be wonderful! I’d love having you here in the town, and be able to see you more often.’ A feeling of joy filled her chest. ‘And is there a particular property that’s taken your eye?’
‘Hmm, well, there’s a couple of houses in the new part of town, but they’re not ideal. I quite fancy somewhere with a garden and a bit of character; something I can spend some time doing up.’ She could read the subtext: keep his mind occupied, keep his grief at bay.
‘And what about your job? Has a vacancy come up at the school here or one of the others nearby?’ Her father taught history at High Nedderton Secondary School, which was where he’d first met Greer. He’d been instantly attracted to the bubbly, no-nonsense drama/English teacher.
‘Not quite.’ Silas cleared his throat. ‘I’ve actually decided to retire.’
Retire?Had she heard right? ‘Oh, right.’ She didn’t want to ask what he’d do once he retired. Her dad wasn’t one for sitting around doing nothing.
‘As you know, it was always the plan for Greer and I to retire once we hit the big six-o, and since I’ll be sixty next June, I’m going to stick to that plan, well, the retirement part of it, at least.’ He didn’t need to mention his wife would’ve been sixty in August. The pair had big plans for how they were going to spend their retirement. They’d had a pot of money saved for the trips on their bucket list which included the Galapagos Islands, an exciting journey to Italy on the Orient Express, and a luxury safari in Africa. They’d even talked about a less extravagant holiday experience which involved backpacking around the Greek islands. It was something Greer had done in her gap year with friends, and she had fond memories. Sadly, cancer stole her before they’d had a chance to tick a single thing off their list.
