The knock came as George was still staring at the bottle in his hands. It was a fine cognac, the kind his father would have appreciated, and it had arrived from Morin Braithweight with a note of thanks for the funeral she had asked him to conduct for her husband, Giles. George turned it over, weighing it, and shook his head. “I can’t accept this,” he said.
“Why not? ” came the reply. “Because it’s too expensive. My dad knew his cognac.
This is the real stuff. It’s too much. ”
“George, you helped that woman through one of the hardest times of her life. How do you think she’s going to feel if you send it back?
”
“I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel right. ”
“Offended. That’s how she’s going to feel.
Are you sure you want to offend a widow? ”
“No, of course I don’t. ”
“Then get a card out and write her a thank you note. ”
“Maybe you’re right.
”
“I’m always right. ”
George hesitated, then smiled. “Well, maybe we crack it open later. A little sniff.
”
“It’s mid-afternoon. ”
“It’s meant to be sipped in a warm glass. After a nice meal. A digestive.
”
“Well, then maybe you could take me out for a nice meal later, and we’ll savor the digestive together. ”
“We’ll see,” George said, reaching for a pen. “After I thank Morin. ”
The card was written.
The cognac was placed carefully on the shelf. But George didn’t get to savor it that night, because by the time he turned around, Kev was standing in the kitchen doorway with that look on his face again. “Dad,” Kev said. “We need to talk.
”
“No, we don’t,” George replied, though he already knew it was coming. “You need to leave us alone. We’re okay. ”
“How?
We’re not. You’re all over the place. There’s no food in the fridge. The place is a tip.
I’m walking on eggshells in case you kick off. ”
“I don’t kick off. When do I kick off? I might let things slip a little bit, but that’s okay now.
You and me, we’re okay. ”
“No. I want to go and live with Abby for a bit. ”
The words landed like a blow.
George felt his chest tighten. “No. I said it was okay for a few days. And I said no.
”
“What is this? Gang up on Kev day? ” Kev turned and walked toward the bedroom. “I’m going to pack a bag.
”
“Okay,” George heard himself say, and then louder, “Okay. ”
Kev’s daughter came into the room a moment later, all softness and careful intentions. She had a pot pie in hand and a hopeful expression. “Hello.
Got a cottage pie in the oven. ”
“Oh, that’s nice. You don’t have to do that. ”
“No, no.
I just want it to be useful. It’ll be ready in half an hour. Why don’t you two chill for a bit? I’m just going to pop to the shops, get some peas.
”
“Yeah,” George said. He wasn’t really listening. “It’s nice to come back to a home-cooked meal, isn’t it? I won’t be long.
”
He forced a smile. “Yeah. I’m not complaining. ”
The moment she was gone, George reached for the phone.
He had a number in his head, one he had carried for years without ever needing to call it. Now it felt like the only thing he had left. “Hello. Sorry to trouble you.
Is this Bernard Bennett? Hi. It’s Shaa Ramsey. You went to school with my dad, Doug.
Yeah. Well, the thing is, we kind of lost touch and I was just wondering if you knew where he was these days. ”
The silence on the other end stretched. Then Bernard’s voice came back, polite but distant.
“Oh, okay. Well, do you know anybody who might be able to help? All right. Okay.
Thank you. Thanks. Bye. ”
He hung up and stared at the wall.
“Well? ” Kev had come back in, a half-packed bag in his hand. “What did he say? ”
“He said they haven’t seen each other in years.
Which is weird, because they were best mates. ”
“People lose touch. ”
“I know. I just really want to find me dad.
I just don’t know how. ”
Kev put the bag down. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? ”
“He said what he wanted.
Just go. ”
“Maybe I should stay. ”
“No. You made your mind up.
You go. ”
“Tell the truth. I don’t want you here. I’m better off on my own.
I can do what I want. I don’t need anybody. ”
“You don’t mean that. ”
“Just go, will you?
Why is no one listening to me? Go on. Go. Both of you.
”
Kev hesitated, then picked up the bag again. “Come on, kid,” he said quietly, and they were gone. The house was silent after that. George stood in the middle of the kitchen, alone, and realized he had finally gotten exactly what he asked for.
Over at the pub, Debbie and her husband had taken a table by the window, enjoying a rare quiet night out. The door opened and a familiar figure walked in. Debbie recognized him immediately — Andy, someone from the street. “Ah, we meet again.
Andy, right? ”
“It’s Deendra,” Debbie said. “And this is Bernardine. ”
“Bernardine,” her husband repeated, with no particular enthusiasm.
“Can I get you a drink? ” Andy asked. “Thank you, but we’re kind of on a date here. Putting a bit of quality time into our marriage.
”
“Yeah, of course. Sorry. You have a lovely evening. ”
“Certainly going to try.
”
Andy retreated to the bar, and Debbie’s husband leaned in. “You want a drink, then? ”
“Yes, please. Can we have a double scotch and a pipe?
”
“Snakebite, please,” Debbie said to the barmaid. “When you’re ready. ”
“It’s just that people change their minds,” the barmaid said, pouring with deliberate slowness. “And when they change their minds, drinks get wasted.
”
“Won’t change my mind,” Debbie said. “All right, then. ”
Debbie turned back to her husband. “So.
We okay? ”
“Yeah. You were a little standoffish with Mr. Mal there.
”
“He’s a tradesman doing a job for Roy. He’s not your best mate. ”
“Honey, good man’s cost now, as they say. Sorry.
Sorry. Shall I get him over here so he can have a drink with us? ”
“Honey, I am kidding. You’re right.
Tonight’s about me and you. Okay? I’m sure Mr. Mal can take care of himself.
”
“Cheers. ”
They clinked glasses, and for a moment, it was fine. George hadn’t moved from the kitchen. The doorbell hadn’t rung, but the downstairs door was standing open, letting in the evening air.
He heard footsteps on the stairs and looked up to find one of the neighbors standing in the doorway. “Hey,” the neighbor said. “That downstairs door was wide open, you know. ”
“Oh, yeah.
That’s me. I must have forgotten. ”
“You all right? ”
“Yeah, fine.
”
“I was just wondering if you fancied popping down the pub with me and Chrissy. ”
“Oh, I’m okay. Theo’s gone to see his mom and dad and they’ll be back soon. ”
“Sure?
I’m buying. ”
“Honestly, George, I’m fine. Right. Okay.
Well, I won’t twist your arm. See you tomorrow, mate. ”
“Bye, mate. ”
George waited until the footsteps faded, then went to the window and watched the neighbor walk away.
He had a lovely meal waiting at home, he told himself. And that cognac. The posh new cognac from Morin. But he didn’t reach for it.
He just stood there, watching the street. Nina had been avoiding this conversation for weeks. She had hoped the job would finish quietly, that she could slip away without anyone noticing. But the moment had come, and there was no avoiding it now.
“And I’m finished,” she said, facing him across the room. “I told you I wasn’t interested. And I got the message loud and clear. ”
“But I need this job,” he said.
“I didn’t know you work for Roy Cropper. ”
“I love my husband. ”
“I can see that. He’s a lucky man.
”
“Don’t say that. ”
“I’m sorry. Look, we had one really great night and it really helped me, and I’ll never forget that. And I promise I will stay out of your way.
And as soon as I finish this job at the café, I’ll be gone. ”
He nodded slowly. “Okay. ”
“Okay,” she repeated, and walked out.
The television was still on in George’s house, a nature documentary about some creature’s life cycle. He had stopped watching it, staring instead at the phone, willing it to ring. But it stayed silent. Abi came into the room and stood behind him.
“If you want round two, you’ll have to come back tomorrow,” the narrator said, and George clicked it off. “I don’t want another fight,” he said. “Really? Because I thought you and our Carla were working as some sort of tag team.
”
“Why’d you do it? ” Abi asked. “The hotel? ”
“Oh, the hotel.
Well, number one, I think Ryan will do a brilliant job. And two, I didn’t want to tie you down. ”
“What do you mean, tie me down? ”
“Well, you’ve not exactly got a good fan club around here at the moment, have you?
And if I end up in prison, there’ll be nothing for you to stay for. ”
“You can’t trust me, you know. Can I? Haven’t I already proven that?
”
George let out a breath. “Who’s been keeping your business going? Me. Ryan’s done nothing.
”
“Ryan’s been a good friend to me over the years. I trust him. I’ve known him a long time. ”
“I’m your brother.
Look how he dealt with them robbers. Hey, I owe him. ”
“Do you think this is easy for me? ” Abi’s voice cracked.
“No. Of course not. I know it’s hard for you right now. And Ronnie told me what you’re doing for Kev.
But it’s not your job to take care of us. ”
“Oh, yes it is. It is my job. And I don’t know how long I can keep doing it for, do I?
How long have I got before I’m incarcerated? And all this family keep doing is shouting at each other and falling out. ”
“Hey. Hey.
I’m not shouting now, am I? ”
“Well, I’m shouting because I’m terrified. I’m going to jail. ”
“You’re not.
”
“Oh, yes I am. I am. And I know I am. And you know what scares me the most?
”
“What? ”
George’s voice dropped. “Being on me own. Locked up on me own, away from everybody I love.
And what if, while I’m in there, my — what does everybody call it? Me condition. Me illness. No, let’s give it its full title.
Me vascular dementia. What if, while I’m in there, that gets worse? What if I forget who you are? ”
Abi came closer and put her arms around him.
“You won’t forget who I am,” she said. “I might,” George whispered. “I might forget everyone. ”
The kitchen was quiet.
The pot pie sat cold on the counter. The peas were still in the bag. Kev had gone to Abby’s, his daughter had gone home, and George was left alone in the house with nothing but the ticking clock and the unopened bottle of cognac. He picked up the bottle and looked at it again.
Morin’s gift. A thank you for helping her through the most difficult time of her life. He wondered if anyone would ever send him a gift like that. He wondered if anyone would even remember to close his door when he was gone.
He set the bottle down gently. The night stretched out ahead of him, empty and quiet, and George stood in the kitchen, waiting for morning.