I was surprised when I opened the door and found her stood behind it. Surprised and pretty pissed off actually; I felt like the ring master in a travelling circus,
"Roll up, roll up, come and see the man sent so insane by grief that he slept in a squalid office rather than go home…"
I suppose I was more put out than anything else. She'd obviously done nothing to help my dad since my mum's death and yet here she was, bold as brass, stood on the doorstep with her bottle of wine like she'd been invited to a dinner party of something.
"What do you want?" I asked coolly, not really in any mood to be meeting and greeting guests after the shitty day I'd had.
"I wanted to see how your dad was." She replied softly, "I couldn't believe it when I heard." Her face crumpled then, and it became clear she was trying to hold back tears, "Martha, if I'd known I'd have brought him home, I promise." The tears started to flow then and to my complete and utter amazement, they appeared to be totally genuine. I'd never seen her cry before and if I'm honest I'd written her off as a bit of a hard nosed cow. She seemed to be one of those people who carried on regardless; even over the summer when mum and dad kept inviting her for dinner because mum said she needed support on account of her husband being banged up for manslaughter, I still never saw her shed so much as a tear. Most of the time it was all charming smiles and tinkling laughter – mum claimed it was all just a very clever front, but I'd never really believed it. Not until that night.
Call me a pushover but I couldn't carry on being mean to her, not when she was crying, and so I managed a weak smile in her direction,
"He's ok. He's in bed now." I paused, half wondering whether to expand, but before I'd really had chance to think about it, the words came flooding out before I could stop them. "He's in the spare room. He wouldn't go in his room and I thought that might be the next best thing."
Actually, I'd thought nothing of the sort. When dad had refused to sleep in his and mum's marital bed I hadn't the first clue what to do, and although I'd eventually pushed him into sleeping in the spare room I had no idea if it was the right thing to do or a huge mistake. Let's face it, I'm only 18, what the hell do I know about looking after a grieving father? – Not a bloody thing, that's what.
All that in mind, and kind of desperate for reassurance, even if it was just from some hard faced cow who I'd met all of 4 or 5 times in my entire life I found myself look to her for the answer to the question I'd been asking myself ever since dad had gone to bed.
"Did I do the right thing?"
She looked at me vaguely, apparently lost for words, possibly because she knew nothing of grieving fathers either, except in a professional capacity, but then she slowly nodded,
"I think so. In fact, I'm pretty much sure of it." She smiled more warmly then than I'd ever have imagined than an ice maiden like her could, "You did well Martha. Well done."
Her final words were patronising as hell and I knew I should probably be utterly put out that she was talking to me like I was a particularly dumb five year old, but the truth was that it was what I needed to hear. And I guess it was the fact that she was telling me what I needed to hear that prompted what came next.
"Would you like to come in?"
It was her turn to look surprised then, which I suppose I should have expected after the icy reception I'd afforded her. She stepped back slightly, "No. No thank you, not if your father's sleeping. It's fine."
But it wasn't fine. I'd suddenly decided that her leaving was the last thing that I wanted since I really didn't want to be alone, and as my dad was in bed and Joseph had buggered off as quickly as he could he possibly could after dropping us home (wearing enough aftershave to make it perfectly obviously he was abandoning us in favour of some kind of date), alone was precisely what I was.
"Please." I said urgently, leaving her in little doubt that I wanted her to stay. I glanced at the bottle in her hand, "We could drink your wine together. I could use a drink after the day I've had…"