She took a deep breath. ‘Let him in.’
Cameron opened the door. ‘Hi, Barry. This is a nice surprise. And Gazza, me old mucker.’ The dog greeted Cameron with his usual display of pawing, jumping up and enthusiastic licking.
‘Is everything all right?’ asked Ros, coming over to greet her father with a kiss on the cheek and a brief pat for the dog.
His expression was grave. ‘I’m all right. I’ve been worried about you.’
‘I’m fine,’ said Ros, feeling her shoulders tense up again. Perhaps she needed to see someone about that.
‘Can I let him off the lead?’ asked Barry. Gazza looked over at her with big innocent eyes.
Ros eyed her curtains. Darla’s instructions of soaking them overnight in a mix of white vinegar and cold water before sprinkling with baking soda and washing on a hot cycle had worked but the curtains didn’t quite look as perfect as they once had. ‘It’s probably best not to.’
Barry and Gazza looked disappointed. ‘Okay. But you’re sure you’re all right?’
‘Why wouldn’t Ros be okay?’ asked Cameron, taking Barry’s coat.
‘Didn’t she say?’ asked Barry, fixing his gaze on Ros.
‘No,’ said Cameron. ‘What am I missing?’ He glued his eyes on Ros.
She felt like she was being interrogated and realised that if she ever was, she would cave a lot quicker than she’d ever imagined she would. ‘My mother.’
Cameron looked to Barry for an explanation. ‘Amanda, Ros’s mum, is staying at mine for a bit.’
‘And she was there when you went over for lunch?’ asked Cameron.
‘Yep. First time I’ve seen her in five years.’
Cameron was at her side. ‘That must have been a shock.’
‘Total ambush,’ said Ros.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Barry from the sofa. ‘I don’t suppose there was any easy way for you two to meet after all this time.’
‘I should have come,’ said Cameron.
‘I did assume you’d be there to give Ros some support,’ said Barry.
‘If I’d known of course I would have been there.’
‘You’ve been a regular for the last few weeks. I just assumed,’ said Barry. ‘Did you have a good time with your friend?’ he asked.
‘Er yeah. We had a nice day, thanks, Barry.’ Cameron looked furtively at Ros. This was awkward.
‘We all had a takeaway together,’ said Ros, holding up a tray as if presenting evidence.
Barry nodded. ‘Your mum is worried that she’s upset you,’ he said.
‘Thanks, Dad. But I doubt that very much.’
‘Ros?’ Cameron looked embarrassed.
‘Actually it’s okay,’ said Barry, twisting his lips. ‘Amanda can be . . .’ he wobbled his head as if trying to conjure up the rest of the sentence ‘. . . a bit of a trial.’
‘Thank you!’ said Ros with feeling; perhaps finally her dad was on the same page.
‘Tea?’ asked Cameron, putting down a bowl of water for Gazza, which he immediately started lapping up before dribbling most of it off the whiskers on his chin and all over the rug.
‘Please, lad,’ said Barry, putting his palms on his knees and looking around the apartment while Cameron and Ros had a hushed conversation in the kitchen.
‘You should have said something,’ said Cameron. ‘I knew there was something up. The whole time G—’ Ros willed him not to say her name with her eyes. ‘They were here, I knew there was something wrong.’
She couldn’t really explain that the problems she’d been wrestling with while Gina was there had nothing to do with her mother. ‘There’s nothing you can do.’
‘I can be here for you and listen to how you feel about it,’ he said.
Ros tipped her head.
‘Okay, I can listen to you rant about her then. All I’m saying is, if you need me, I’m here,’ he added, resting his hand on her shoulder. The unexpected contact was confusing. He was being friendly; she needed to get her head around that. All the things she’d started to think were possibly signals of something more developing between them were just a nice person showing that they cared.
‘I know that’s not yours,’ said Barry, pointing at Cyril when Ros and Cameron came back into the living area. And then scanning the throw on the back of the sofa and the cactus on the windowsill: ‘Did you two have something you wanted to tell me?’
***
Darla switched on the telly, moved herself up and down the sofa and into various positions until she could see the screen and then decided that she couldn’t concentrate on the property programme anyway. She switched it off. What her parents had said was filling up her brain so much that there wasn’t even any room for Fred and Gloria from Bolton who were never going to find a place with three bedrooms and a pool, walking distance to the beach for the ridiculously small budget they had. A caravan in Slough would probably have been a stretch. She swallowed hard; right now she couldn’t even afford a caravan in Slough either.
Darla had been so focused on clearing the debt that she hadn’t been able to think beyond that. If she repaid all the money she would be able to return home but then what? Was the plan to pick up where she’d left off? She’d assumed she would move back in with her parents for a while but now she wasn’t so sure. They clearly weren’t expecting her to, because now in their eyes she was this strong independent woman who went on multiple adventures and took on the world. Not a cleaner, bar worker and house sitter who spent her free time cleaning things with a toothbrush or watching daytime programmes on a borrowed telly. She wasn’t the person they thought she was. What Darla needed to work out was how she was going to bridge that gap. But first she needed to feed the animals and make herself some dinner. She walked into the kitchen just in time to see a furry grey bum jump off the windowsill. ‘Winston!’
