Page 15 of The Merry Christmas Project

Fred had shrugged. ‘I’ll worry about that when it happens.’

He’d sold up and given both his kids a lump sum of money. ‘You might as well have your inheritance now, otherwise it’ll only end up in the taxman’s pocket’, he’d said. A year on, Cole had to admit, his dad did seem more relaxed than he’d ever been.

‘Hello ?’ His dad’s voice came over the intercom, sounding suspicious even though Cole had spoken to him on the phone only five minutes ago, to let him know he was en route.

‘Trick or treat,’ said Cole in a deliberately gruff voice.

‘You daft sod,’ Fred chuckled. ‘Come on up, Son.’

‘Any chance of a cuppa, Dad ?’ he asked when the two of them had exchanged hugs disguised as manly slaps on the back.

‘Thought you’d never ask,’ said Fred, shuffling in his slippers back to his armchair. He’d shrunk in the last year, and his shoulders were a little more stooped each time Cole visited. He’d still got his thick thatch of white hair though, not to mention his sense of humour. ‘Just a drop of milk in mine please, no sugar.’

Cole grinned. ‘Yes, I remember.’

It was only six o’clock but the smell of cooking already hung in the air. His mum used to have a meal on the table at half past five without fail and his dad had kept rigidly to her timetable after her death. It was quite sweet really. He even bought exactly the same food that she’d brought home in the weekly shop.

Cole took the kettle to the kitchen tap to fill it up. In the sink was a single used plate and a knife and fork. The sight of it made his throat tighten. Fred and Val had worshipped each other; it was sad to think that Dad would spend the rest of his years alone. Like father like son at the moment, he thought glumly.

He took the tea through to the living room. ‘Had a good day ?’

‘I have.’ Fred closed the book he was reading and picked up his phone. ‘I woke up to a drawing from Freya. I’ll show you.’

He swiped at his phone and then pointed the remote at the TV. Freya appeared on the TV screen, holding up a drawing of a witch, a pumpkin and a black cat and the words ‘Happy Halloween’ at the top of the page.

‘That’s great,’ Cole said huskily.

‘Talented kid,’ said Fred.

Cole nodded. She always asked for new paints and colouring pens for every Christmas and birthday. She’d kept all her art supplies neatly in a special box he’d made her. He wondered if she’d got a new box now and whether she still had the set of coloured pens with unicorns on them that he’d bought for her.

Fred swiped at the screen again and the picture changed to a photograph of a bird on his balcony.

‘How did you get the photos on the TV ?’ Cole was impressed. He’d tried watching TV in Hester’s living room recently and had been bamboozled by the three remote controls and had ended up watching the shopping programme it had been tuned to because he couldn’t work out how to change the channel.

‘Screen mirroring,’ said Fred proudly. ‘You just press a button and hey presto.’

‘Amazing,’ said Cole, slightly envious of his dad’s skills.

To give Fred credit, he’d certainly mastered the digital world ; he was comfortable using a laptop and phone to keep in touch with his grandchildren, doing his shopping, his banking and even communicating with his doctor.

‘And Harley sent me a Facebook friend request,’ Fred continued. ‘So now I can watch all the silly prank videos he likes to share.’

Cole sipped his tea and smiled. He was glad they were making an effort to keep in touch with him. Lydia’s dad wasn’t on the scene and her mum had passed away the year before they got married. Granddad Fred was their only remaining grandparent.

On the dresser behind Fred’s armchair, Cole noticed that the electric screwdriver had been plugged in to charge up. He nodded to it. ‘What are you up to ?’

‘Ah, well, I’m glad you asked.’ Fred slurped his tea. ‘You saw that photo of the bird on my balcony ? I took it last week. It was a beauty, gold-green feathers. I’d never seen one before. Took me ages to work out what it was. I had to pop to the bookshop and buy a book on garden birds before I could identify it.’

‘What was it ?’

‘A greenfinch !’ Fred said proudly. ‘They like eating sunflower seeds so I put some out on the balcony railings and more birds came back the next day. In one day I spotted the greenfinch again, a coal tit, a robin and something else which might have been a dunnock. It was fascinating, watching them. So I bought a bird table, a self-assembly job. It’s out there on the balcony in a box ready to be assembled.’ He narrowed his eyes at Cole. ‘What are you looking so pleased with yourself about ?’

‘I’m trying not to say I told you so.’ Cole rubbed a hand across his stubbly chin to hide his smirk. ‘But I knew you’d get bored of reading and watching TV eventually.’

‘You did,’ Fred acknowledged. ‘But I just had to get there in my own time. And I’m not bored exactly; just, you know, ready to get interested in things again.’

Cole didn’t want to make a fuss but this was music to his ears. Hester was going to be pleased too. Mum had always fed the birds and had been able to reel off all their names ; it would be a nice hobby for Dad and might even encourage him to get out more. He finished his tea and set his mug down. ‘Come on, let’s build it now. It’ll be easier with two pairs of hands.’