Page 49
Lucie didn’t have a perfect answer. It felt right to help Rose. It was something she could do and something she should do. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe it was Frances.
She felt a little lift at the thought.
Her dad watched her for a moment. “Lucie... please don’t tell me you’ve developed a particular interest... in Frances.”
“She’s my boss,” Lucie protested.
“That doesn’t answer the question, love,” he replied gently. “And I've heard enough in the pub to know Frances is a lesbian."
Lucie opened her mouth, but while she fumbled for a reply, he tilted his head back and groaned.
“Mandy knows, doesn’t she? That’s why she led Rose off with us earlier, to give the two of you some alone time. Are you already seeing each other? I thought Frances was looking at you a certain way tonight.”
Was she?
“You were acting odd, too,” he added.
“Odd how?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Just different.”
Lucie immediately wanted to dispute that claim. How would he know what was different when he hadn’t seen her in person for ten years? Maybe some part of him still knew her better than she realised. She might have grown up during her time away, but there were pieces that always remained recognisable to those who had loved us long enough.
He was probably right anyway. Frances did make her feel different. Maybe she had behaved unusually without realising it. She was sure she wasn’t the only one.
She nudged him. “Different like you are around Mandy, you mean?”
They both let out a soft laugh, which blessedly melted the tension.
“Well, I don’t know about Mandy and me. We’ve been friends for too long for it to become more than that.”
That was the biggest pile of nonsense Lucie had ever heard. There was no time limit on love.
“But you and Frances...” He paused. “You’re too old for me to have any say in your life. I caution you, that’s all.”
They sat in silence for a moment before he let out a long, heavy sigh, as though the brief lightness had slipped away and the weight of the conversation had returned. She sensed that he wanted to say something but was holding back, so she decided to give him a nudge.
“What’s up, Dad?”
He finally spoke. “When you were away, I didn’t have to worry about you leaving again. I could just look forward to your return.”
His eyes glistened, and Lucie reached over and put her hand on his. It felt rougher than she remembered.
“I lost my wife, then my mum, and then I lost you. My little girl.”
“You didn’t lose me, Dad,” she said softly.
“But I did. And now you’re hell-bent on helping them up at the hall? You know better than anyone what a hateful disease it is, what it does to those who have it and those who don’t. You shouldn’t have been the one looking after your gran. You put your life on hold to do something I should have done but couldn’t. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Dad. I wanted to do it. You had the pub. Keeping food on the table was important too.”
“But it was my responsibility. She was my mother.” He stopped for a breath and sniffed. “I sometimes wonder if you’d have left at all if I’d taken care of her.”
“I was always going to university.”
“University, yes. But you never came back after that,” he said quietly, his voice tightening.
“If you weren’t happy with me being away, you could’ve said something. We spoke every other week.”
