Chapter Seventeen

Nelson finds the front door unlocked, which brings back old memories of scolding his daughters to lock the door behind them, his copper's instinct for home security never far away. He considers, momentarily, pretending like everything is normal and calling for Laura so he can remind her to lock the door behind her. But he doesn't get the chance.

"Dad!?" His daughter's voice sounds on the landing of the stairs.

He watches her race down and hurl herself into his arms. She's a petite little thing. Slim and blonde and beautiful like her mother. She'd grown up and away from ballerinas and instead lives at the gym. It's not sport, but it's something. And what it's gotten her is a strange sort of female perfection that reminds Nelson so much of Michelle, it actually hurts right now.

"Dad, where have you been?" Laura asks. She's crying into his shirt, holding it tight in her fists. He's got his arms wrapped around her slim body, wishing desperately that his hugs could protect her from the harsh realities they'd both have to face.

"When did you get here?" he asks, choosing not to answer her question yet. When she lifts her head to look at him, he takes her face in his hands and wipes her tears. "Have you eaten?"

Laura shakes her head. "I got here last night around nine. I was too upset to eat. I thought you'd be home during the night, but Uncle Dave said you weren't on duty, and your mobile was off. Where've you been?"

Nelson sighs, knowing this is going to be a much bigger conversation. "Let's go have some breakfast, and then we can talk."

"You want me to make you eggs?" she asks, finally leaving his embrace to lead the way to the kitchen.

"Sure. I've got a new carton in. Bought them the other day. Been learning," he tells her.

Laura gives him a strange look. "Learning what?"

"How to cook. Simple things. So far I can scramble eggs and make toast soldiers and boil pasta. That one was more complicated than I imagined," Nelson says, recalling Ruth's scolding about waiting for the water to boil. Was that really just last night? He can hardly believe. This morning has been such a whirlwind. Ruth feels far away, now.

"Why have you been making toast soldiers? You don't like soft boiled eggs."

Nelson sits at the kitchen table to keep Laura company while she cooks. They've done this before. When Michelle would go on girls' weekends and Nelson was home with the girls. Usually they'd order pizza for dinner and then Laura and Rebecca would make breakfast for them in the morning. Only now, he does know how to do some things. He could help if he wanted to try, might even impress Laura a bit.

But to be honest, he's exhausted and anxious and can't focus on trying to remember what Judy'd said about how to scramble eggs properly.

"I don't need soft boiled eggs to eat toast soldiers," he protests. He doesn't want to address the real reason yet, that he's learning to make toast soldiers for Katie because she likes them with her scrambled eggs for breakfast. Eventually, when he's got a place of his own that isn't this house full of memories of a different family life, he hopes to have Katie come stay with him. Or, even better, Ruth and Katie both. He can make breakfast for all of them then.

Laura does not press the toast soldiers issue. She starts the kettle for tea and takes the eggs out of the refrigerator. She's quiet for a while, pretending to focus her attention on the cooking. But Nelson knows she's doing the same as him, avoiding the issue. The silence seems to bother her in a way such things have never bothered him. She turns to him and asks, "So is this your life now? Learning to cook for yourself?"

"For now, yeah," he tells her. And that's the truth. It's good to start with the easier truths. "Mum's been gone just over a week."

She turns sharply to her father. "Why'd she leave?"

"We told you, we weren't happy."

Tears fill Laura's eyes again and she tries to blink them away. Her voice cracks as she asks, "Why not?"

Nelson has been thinking a lot about that all week. Since the moment Michelle kissed him goodbye and got in her car and left. It is hard to put it all into words, particularly without mentioning Ruth and Katie. But he begins, "I think your mum and I, we were too young when we met and got married. We loved each other. And we still do. But as we got older and lived our lives, we grew up. People don't stop growing up after they leave school and get jobs, Laura. I think you know that by now. But Mum and me, we grew up in different ways. We wanted different things. And because we loved each other and we love you and Rebecca, we just didn't think about it. Not till it was too hard to ignore."

"What made you think about it now?" she asks, abandoning the eggs she's whisking and staring at him, hanging on every word.

"I think when Gran died. Death makes people think about things. Take stock of life and all that. And your mum…she realized she wanted more than what I could give her. What this life could give her. And you've gotta admit, Laura, it's not like me and your mum have a lot in common."

Laura frowns, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Yes you do, you go to the garden centre at the weekend and you go on those trips together and everything."

Nelson can't help but laugh a little at that. "Sweetheart, you know I hate that stuff, right?"

"But you do it anyway!"

"Because I thought I was supposed to," he explains. "Think of it this way, love, if you had a boyfriend who followed you around the mall or went with you to the gym and never complained but didn't care at all about any of it, wouldn't you be a bit disappointed? Just because I went along with Mum didn't mean I enjoyed myself and it doesn't mean she doesn't deserve to do the things she wants with someone who would appreciate it with her."

"Not just someone who puts up with it," Laura says in understanding.

A small smile crosses Nelson's lips. "Exactly."

The kettle whistles, interrupting their conversation. Laura goes back to the eggs and Nelson fixes the tea for them both. They share a quick meal of scrambled eggs and bacon—only eggs for Laura and only a small portion at that—and Nelson helps with the washing up. He does not mention that he's noticed Laura cooks the eggs a little runny. Katie would hate that. And Nelson's not much of a fan of it either.

"Come on, let's you and me sit down for a little while. I'll have to go to work later, but there's more we have to talk about," Nelson tells Laura.

He has to move the blanket and pillow he's been using to sleep on the couch for the last week—excepting the two nights he's spent with Ruth. But Laura comes to sit beside him and gives him a great big hug.

"I love you, Dad," she murmurs softly. "And I'm sorry you haven't been happy."

Nelson just hugs her close, appreciating those words more than he can say.

All of a sudden, Laura jerks herself away from him. Her eyes narrow dangerously. She sits up on her knees and gets close to him, sniffing. "Why do you smell like strawberries?"

His blood runs cold at that. Christ, he'd forgotten. "The shampoo I used this morning."

Laura's face gets pale and frightened. "Where were you last night, Dad?"

This is it, and he knows it, and he hates it with ever fiber of his being. "Do you remember my friend Ruth? The archaeologist at the university?"

"It was all a lie, wasn't it? Oh my god, Rebecca was right! It is all your fault! You've been having an affair and that's why Mum left!" Laura shrieks, standing up and getting away from him.

"No, Laura, that's not why. I didn't lie to you about anything!" he protests. Christ, this is getting out of hand.

"Just tell me the truth, Dad," she demands. "Did you use your friend Ruth's shampoo because you spend the night with her?"

"Not exactly."

"What's that mean."

It's the moment of truth, literally and figuratively. And he confesses, "It wasn't her shampoo, it was Kate's. Her daughter. But I used it because I did spend the night with Ruth."

Far off in the saltmarsh, Ruth herself is humming while she does the laundry. She wishes she was the type of domestic woman who could hang sheets out on the line outside, but the weather is far too changeable for that. And surely if she wasn't in such a beautiful mood, she wouldn't ever think of such a thing. But she can't help but think how nice it would be, hanging sheets out on the line and knowing that she and Nelson had made love in those sheets the night before. She could think of him curled up in her bed while Flint is curled up in a patch of sun and Kate is playing happily nearby. It would be almost perfect. She feels like everything is almost perfect, now.