Chapter 30 – Family

I patted Al's knee under the table for he looked pained as Mum asked him about the pub. He cocked his head at me, so I gave a little smile. "Go on, Al." We were packed around our little kitchen table and oh how I wished granddad was sitting here with us.

"Uhm, right," he said, "So Ken decided he ought not run the pub, so I sorta stepped in to run it."

"And," I added, "It's been a smashing success!"

"Yeah," Al muttered, scratching his neck. "So far."

"And, my whiskey has been a good one as well," Bert added.

Mum forced a tight smile at Al's dad, for she didn't favor drink that much, and here was my fiancé running a pub, as well, and my father-in-law-to-be was talking about making whiskey. Oh god.

Luckily Dad stepped in. "Just how did you get into the whiskey business? Doesn't that take capital?"

Bert smiled. "You'd think I was tellin' a lie if I told you I distilled my first batch in the back of a caravan!"

"Do tell!" Dad responded.

"Oh yes, it was all bits and bobs then, wasn't it, boy?" Bert directed at Al. "Plenty of hoses and tubes, spigots every which way…"

Al cleared his throat. "But it's all proper done now. Licensed and everything."

Bert slapped the table. "Right you are, Al! Bloody miracle… sorry… an actual miracle, you might say! The secret is… well, that's a secret. Ha, ha! Small batch distilling gives a true craftsman the opportunity to create – new things."

Dad nodded and then took another forkful of chicken. It was good chicken, along with sprouts, taters, and a salad, and a sweet cake ready for afters it was a hearty meal. Mum and I had cooperated in the kitchen and I do think it was the first time she and I cooked together. It was a funny feeling while we worked on the food; almost like we were first-met strangers, for in a way that was true. Too many years apart to be totally comfortable with one another, but maybe there was hope for us down the road.

Mum said, "So a new industry in Port Wenn. My, my."

"Little acorns into mighty oaks, Mrs. Newcross," Bert replied.

"Oh please, call me Tara," she told him.

He nodded. "Right, Tara." Then he winked. "No need to be too formal, I suppose."

Dad laughed aloud. "That's right. We're to be a family now." As soon as he said it his face went white and his face froze.

Family. Oh yes, my a-bit-off-kilter family. But it is, as they say, what it is. Water under the bridge and the chicken has flown the coop. All true. Years and years they were gone but now here they were, but I reminded myself they had come to the village for good reasons.

Al took the bull by the horns. "How long are you staying? Going back to Kenya soon after the weddin'?"

Mum answered, "We don't actually know. That is we bought vouchers for the return so we may stay for a while."

"A while," Dad added. "If that's alright with you."

"Sure… okay, that's… good," I managed to say without a trace of emotion. Stay? They're staying?

Al picked up on my meaning, as he said, "I could put you up in one of the extra rooms over the pub."

"Yes, we'd not want to intrude on you newlyweds," Dad said, but he made a face when Mum poked him. "What?"

Al snorted.

I had to say "Dad! Al and me have been keeping house for a while. So we'll hardly feel like newly-weds."

Al took my hand. "Mor just… don't get upset."

Dad nodded and then said, "I mean that, uhm, when two people do get married, it is different for you and everybody else. It all changes and you need privacy. It's a new thing, for you. And I'm sorry if I've upset you." He looked around the table. "Don't mind me; just a silly old man."

"Oh now Jack, you're not old!" Mum told him.

"Then you'd better tell that to my knees for these hills are killing me. I'd forgotten how everything here seems to be uphill both ways."

Bert nodded sagely. "I think maybe a drop of the good stuff might help. Al?"

"Dad!" Al told him.

"It's alright, Al," I said. "Go on."

He got up, opened the cupboard by the window and took out a bottle of Bert's brew. "Everybody want some? Not you Morwenna."

"Of course, not," I laughed, as the baby squirmed.

Al poured four glasses, although Mum indicated just a little in her glass. Dad picked up his glass and inspected the amber fluid against the overhead light. "Looks good." He lowered his glass and held it out. "A toast?"

Everyone raised their whiskey as I held out my water glass.

"Here's to a fine couple and what I am sure will be a wonderful wedding!" Dad said.

We all clinked glasses and then drank.

Mum coughed a little and patted her chest, but Dad's eyes danced as he smacked his lips. "My that is… quite… something. Bert this is very good – very good."

Bert chuckled. "Thank you, Jack. I think it's coming along well."

Dad sipped again. "You know I imagine that there could be a market for this overseas. Original Cornish whiskey."

Bert's face lit up. "Really?"

Al groaned. "Oh no," he muttered.

Dad's head was bobbing. "I know some people – well a man – who might just be able to ship some of this to Kenya."

Al rolled his eyes while Bert's face got a look of wonder.

Mum started to shake her head. "Jack, now don't…"

"Don't what?"

"Just don't get Bert's hopes up is all."

Bert looked from me, to Al, and back to Dad. "Now who is this man you're speaking of? The one in Kenya?"

Al started to say something, but I tapped his arm and then he didn't say a word. Let Bert dream his dreams. After all, he was family.