‘What happened to your mum?’ asked Cameron.
This wasn’t something Ros usually discussed. It was one of the subjects she sidestepped. Usually she found a way to avoid talking about it if she could but something about Cameron’s expectant face made her feel she should say something, even if it was only part of the story. ‘She left when I was young. I was seven.’
‘And she’s never contacted you?’
Ros clenched her teeth together. This was harder than she’d thought it would be. That familiar feeling of abandonment always much closer at hand than she liked. ‘She used to call each week but I would ask her to come home and she’d say she couldn’t and I’d get upset. And I think she got fed up of repeating herself so she stopped calling. There have been a number of points in my life – landmark birthdays, exam results, graduation – when she has shown up out of duty but I’ve not seen her for five years.’ Cameron’s look of pity was hard to take. ‘But it has taught me an important lesson.’
‘That grown-ups are twats sometimes?’
‘I was thinking more that you can’t rely on anyone in this life but yourself.’
‘Wow,’ said Cameron, his eyes wide.
‘Sorry, what do you mean by wow?’
‘That’s either really deep or the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.’
She didn’t need his pity. ‘It’s a simple fact.’
‘But you can’t go through life being closed off to opportunities. They come from opening yourself up. By helping others and letting other people help you. Life is a team sport – we all get much more out of it if we work together.’
What he was saying sounded familiar. ‘Have you recently been on a training course?’
He laughed. ‘No. It’s what I believe. Maybe you can’t always rely on others but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give people the benefit of the doubt; they might surprise you. Anyway, let’s get some lemonade,’ he said, offering her the crook of his arm. She hesitated for a moment but the old-fashioned gesture did appeal to her so she took his arm and they went to find somewhere to sit.
Cameron took off his backpack and, like a hairy Mary Poppins, he proceeded to pull a multitude of things from it including a picnic rug, plastic cups and a Tupperware box. It took Gazza a while to settle as he was immensely keen to join in with the match, but thankfully he stopped barking during the second over – thanks to the lure of a sausage roll. The sun came out and they were able to take off their jackets and despite it only being a local match the cricket was of a good standard. Cameron had made cheese and pickle sandwiches and brought a pig’s ear for Gazza, which he was thrilled with. Cameron handed Ros a packet of Hula Hoops and refilled her lemonade. She was having an unexpectedly nice time.
That evening Ros let herself into her dad’s house to return Gazza as planned. The little black dog was excited to be reunited with his owner but Ros didn’t want him dashing off and alarming her dad. She worried daily about how much longer they had together. She wanted more time and yet the thought of watching him slowly fade away broke her heart. She put her head around the living room door to find him asleep in his chair. It wasn’t like him to nap. It made her sad to see him looking so tired and drawn. His skin had a dull hue and his sparkle was definitely fading. She knew she had to get used to this and that things would only become increasingly worse over the coming weeks, but it was still hard to accept.
‘Gently now,’ she told Gazza as she let him off his lead and he dashed to his master.
‘Oh, hello, fella,’ said Barry, coming to. Gazza and Barry were overjoyed to be reunited. ‘Thanks for having him, Ros. How was he?’ he asked before turning to Gazza. ‘Were you a good boy for Ros? Were you?’
‘He was fine,’ she said. It almost felt like Gazza gave her a look of thanks that she’d lied about how he had behaved at the sleepover. The litany of offences was still fresh in her mind. She feared her dog-sitting would become a more regular thing so she’d just have to get used to that too.
Chapter Fourteen
Sunday lunch at her dad’s was marginally less daunting than the previous week. They’d decided that whilst Cameron wouldn’t go along every week they needed to try to put things straight and upsell the relationship to Barry. Once the welcomes were out of the way and Gazza had brought Cameron his chew toy and half a plant pot he’d discovered in the garden, they congregated in the kitchen where Ros was keeping an eye on the dinner.
‘Any update from the hospital?’ asked Ros.
Barry appeared bemused for a moment before he spoke. ‘I’m not expecting one.’
‘No news is good news,’ said Cameron.
‘Let’s hope,’ said Ros, getting out the carving knife. ‘Cameron took me to the cricket at Hoglands Park yester-day.’ They had both really enjoyed themselves. But best of all it gave them something they could confidently talk about in front of her dad.
‘It was cricket or a musical,’ said Cameron.
‘I’ve never liked musicals,’ said Barry. That was a much shorter conversation about their cricket trip than she’d been hoping for. ‘How’s work?’ he asked. Ros couldn’t be sure but she felt he darted a stern look in Cameron’s direction, or she could have been imagining that look being his thinly veiled disapproval at Cameron being a student and not having a full-time job – although she may have read far too much into one simple glance.
‘Work was the usual bunfight. They say we have to work collaboratively but that only works if everyone is at the same competency level. They’re not, so I end up checking what they’ve done so I might as well just do it myself in the first place.’
‘But if you show them how to do it to your standards, they will become competent and you’ll have less to do,’ said Cameron.
Ros was shocked by what she felt was a challenge and she could see Barry was watching them closely. ‘But it would still need to be checked,’ she said.
‘Maybe to start with but eventually you’d be able to trust them. Might be worth a go. A little time invested now might save you in the longer term. Life’s a team sport – that’s all I’m saying.’ Cameron turned his attention back to Gazza.
‘I suppose,’ said Ros. That was as much as she would concede. ‘And as if it wasn’t bad enough to spend all day with these people there’s the annual social on Friday night that I have to attend.’
‘What’s this?’ asked Cameron, popping back up.
‘It’s the annual Easter barbecue at the CEO’s place that Ros complains about every year,’ said Barry. ‘But at least this time she won’t be going on her own. Will it be the first time you’ve met her colleagues, Cameron?’ asked Barry.
‘He’s not coming,’ said Ros.
‘Why not?’ asked Barry. ‘You always say it’s worse than going to a wedding alone because even though everyone brings partners to a wedding at least the food is edible.’
Ros needed a good excuse and quickly. ‘He can’t come because he’s busy with his thing,’ she said very unconvincingly.
‘I’m not anymore. My thing is off,’ said Cameron, with his trademark grin in place. He clearly found this amusing. ‘And who doesn’t have fun at a barbecue?’
‘Ros,’ said Barry, tipping his glass in her direction.
‘I simply don’t understand why they are so popular,’ said Ros. ‘You have a perfectly good oven inside so why burn things over charcoal in what is inevitably inclement weather, especially around Easter? Usually the person cooking only does barbecues and is therefore without any competent cooking skills resulting in frequently undercooked meat, leaving you vulnerable to salmonella, E. coli, yersinia, and other bacteria.’
‘Really not a fan then,’ said Cameron, and Barry chuckled.
