Page 38 of From Now On

‘I know but… the house?’

‘What do you think I should do with it? I’ve a perfectly good home. Of course, you’re entitled financially to—’

‘I’m not ringing about my share.’ Charlie grips the worktop in front of him. ‘I want us to keep the house. To rent it out. It’s already fully furnished. The monthly income can—’

‘And who’s going to collect the rent?’ Violet asks.

‘There are management companies—’

‘Who take a hefty cut. Have you even looked into the potential income?’

‘Not yet—’

‘Or what being a landlord entails? The criteria a property has to meet? Fire exits? Boiler service? Energy performance certificates? Carbon monoxide alarms?’

‘No, but—’

‘Well, I have because I’ve researched it. This isn’t a decision I’ve taken lightly, Charlie. But there are furniture and furnishings fire regulations, electrical safety standards. Not to mention—’

‘Violet, please.’ Charlie lowers his voice. ‘I’m trying to do the right thing for Duke and Nina.’

‘And I’m not?’

‘I’m not saying that but… it’s their home.’

‘Was,’Violet says but with kindness. ‘Was their home, Charlie, and hanging on to it, hanging on to the past, I really don’t think it’s in anyone’s best interests. Not the children’s. Not yours.’

‘I want them to have the security of—’

‘Charlie. Other kids sleeping in their old bedrooms won’t give them security. It will be confusing.’

‘It isn’t just the money.’

‘I understand that. You’ll always have your memories, Charlie,and nobody can take those away. They’re not dependent on bricks and mortar. But… keeping a house Duke and Nina can’t live in won’t make them happy because, really, the house isn’t what they want, is it? You or I are not what they want. What they really want is Ronnie and Bo, but they can’t have them.’

Charlie swallows hard, knowing that she is right.

He has a quick shower before heading over to Pippa’s, his head clipping the beads from her home-made wind chime as he presses the bell and waits.

She’s wearing black and white polka-dot pyjamas, her hair twisted in a towel on top of her head, fluffy pink slippers cover her feet. Her skin is make-up free and she looks about fourteen – the age they were when her grandma put a stop to their weekend sleepovers because, ‘You’ve reached the age you’ll have urges,’ she had said.

‘Urges?’ Pippa had asked innocently. ‘What are they then?’

Grandma had shot a look towards Charlie and he had quickly turned his snigger into a cough.

‘It’s like when you want a chocolate biscuit and you know you shouldn’t but you can’t help yourself,’ Grandma had said.

‘So… is Charlie the chocolate biscuit, or am I?’

‘It’s okay.’ Charlie hadn’t been able to bear Grandma looking so uncomfortable. ‘We’ve already taken sex-ed at school.’

Grandma had shaken her head. ‘Sex didn’t exist in my day.’

‘I think you’ll find it did or I wouldn’t be here,’ Pippa had replied.

‘Well, we didn’t talk about it, only…’

‘Urges?’

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