Читать книгу The Forget-Me-Not Flower Shop: The feel-good romantic comedy to read in 2018 - Tracy Corbett - Страница 10

Throwing his phone onto the bed in annoyance, Scott closed the bedroom door. He needed a moment to compose himself. Oshma’s back was playing up again. He wasn’t angry with her – it wasn’t her fault she had a dodgy disc – but it meant he’d have to rearrange his diary so he could look after Billie. Another day without income wasn’t a welcome prospect. He was struggling with the bills as it was. He rubbed his forehead, trying to dilute the frustration. He had two call-outs booked, both needing urgent attention. Cancelling was bound to send them elsewhere, losing him much-needed custom. But it wasn’t his mum’s fault. She needed him. He’d just have to suck it up.

Having sent apologetic texts to his customers, Scott masked his annoyance and went to tend to Billie. He found her in the kitchen being spoon-fed porridge by her attentive grandson. Her right arm was usually strong enough to grip a spoon, enabling her to feed herself, but some days her muscles were troubled by a weakness that rendered her virtually paralysed. Today was one of those days. It broke his heart to see her struggling.

Knowing she wouldn’t appreciate a fuss, Scott clapped his hands together. ‘Breaking news, guys. Oshma won’t be in today so you have me running the show.’ He planted a kiss on his mum’s cheek. ‘Lucky you, eh?’

The right side of her face creased into a frown, a questioning look in her eyes.

‘Her back is bad. She’s booked in to see the physio later. Hopefully she’ll be here tomorrow.’ Scott squeezed his mum’s shoulder, overriding any attempt to insist he go to work. ‘I didn’t have anything important booked for today. It’s no big deal to stay home.’

He doubted his mum bought his lie. Billie Castillo might have lost all manner of functions, but she hadn’t lost her radar for bullshit.

When a dollop of porridge landed on Billie’s dressing gown, Scott handed Ben a paper towel. ‘Besides, social services are visiting today to do an assessment. It’s best I’m around.’

Scott hated official visits. Not because he had anything to hide, but because the way they inspected everything, assessing his abilities to meet his mother’s care needs, always made him feel substandard. It was like being back at school when his English teacher used to humiliate him in front of the class because he refused to take notes. The woman had never grasped that he wasn’t being deliberately challenging, he just struggled to write things down. He hadn’t enjoyed being dumb. He’d much rather have been a smart-arse like his sister, but the genetics hadn’t worked out that way.

Scott made himself a coffee. ‘I thought you were on a study day?’ He tried to give Ben his best parental look, popping a slice of bread in the toaster.

‘I am.’ Ben held the straw to Billie’s lips so she could sip her tea. ‘I was up early. I’m on my first official break.’ He grinned at his gran. ‘Nanny and I are going to watch The Bourne Identity and discuss the merits of Matt Damon’s acting talents. Isn’t that right, Nan?’

Billie nodded, her love of films one of the few pleasures she hadn’t lost. It was a passion she’d passed on to her grandson.

Scott buttered his toast, doubting that Matt Damon had anything to do with Ben’s English curriculum but appreciating his nephew’s efforts to keep Billie stimulated. ‘Just make sure you get some studying done. I don’t want the school on at me because you’re falling behind.’

Ben laughed. ‘I’m on course for straight As, Uncle Scott. Chill, will you?’

There was nothing Scott would have liked more than to ‘chill’, but that wasn’t going to happen. He could barely remember a time when he wasn’t stressed or aggrieved by his situation. But for the sake of his mother and nephew, he didn’t let his anxiety show. He was just grateful that Ben had inherited Lisa’s aptitude for study and not his own shortcomings.

Ben wiped Billie’s mouth with the paper towel. ‘Big date tonight, Nanny. I’m taking Amy to Francini’s for dinner. We’re taking the train into Ashford after school.’

Scott wasn’t sure what a ‘big’ date involved. Should he be worried? When it came to women, Scott avoided offering Ben any kind of guidance. He was hardly an authority on romance. Look at what had happened with Nicole. One minute they were in love, buying their first home together, engaged to be married, and the next his mum was struck down by a stroke and everything had crumbled around him.

Finishing his coffee, he stacked the breakfast things in the sink. The resentment he felt about his situation hadn’t eased in the two years since everything had gone tits up. If anything, it had become worse. His mum was blameless, but the resentment he felt towards Nicole was different, fuelled by confusion and betrayal. In the initial weeks following Billie’s stroke she’d been supportive and caring, helping him with the multitude of tasks that had landed in his lap. But when Nicole realised he wasn’t about to place his mum in a care home, cracks had developed.

She’d argued that settling his mother in a home and sending a fifteen-year-old Ben to foster carers was the sensible thing to do. Scott didn’t see it that way. Billie and Ben needed him. In the absence of Lisa, he was their only family. There was no way he could abandon them.

The biggest shock came when Nicole broke off their engagement, claiming she wasn’t being ‘put first’. In that moment a small part of him had stopped loving her. Self-interest wasn’t an attractive quality. But most of him didn’t want her to leave. He needed her. It felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest. But if she’d truly loved him, she would have supported him, not given him an ultimatum.

There was never really any choice. Scott would never have chosen anything other than looking after Billie. So they split up. He moved to Kent, while Nicole stayed in the house they’d purchased together in Putney.

‘Is that okay, Uncle Scott?’

The sound of Ben’s voice broke through his thoughts. ‘Sorry, what?’

‘Lisa’s allowance doesn’t hit my account until tomorrow. Can I borrow twenty quid? I don’t want to be caught short on my big date.’ His continued emphasis on the word ‘big’ rang alarm bells. But Scott wasn’t up for a birds and bees discussion with his nephew, who probably knew more than him anyway, so he dug out his wallet and gave Ben his last twenty-pound note.

‘You really need to make your mum’s money last the month,’ he said, trying to make a point, but knowing Ben would never call his mother anything other than Lisa. Or, if he was really pissed off with her, ‘that woman’. ‘Budgeting is an important lesson to learn.’

‘I know, and I wouldn’t normally ask, but I’m taking Amy on a—’

‘Big date, yeah, I heard.’ Scott sighed, once again feeling like he should be questioning the kid’s intentions a bit more, or at least mentioning the merits of using protection, but he chickened out. He was a terrible guardian.

Ben pocketed the cash. ‘I’ll pay you back tomorrow when I get my allowance.’

‘No need.’ Use it to buy condoms, he should’ve added, but didn’t, wimping out again.

‘Thanks, Uncle Scott. I’ll return the favour when you start dating again.’ The kid turned away before Scott could reprimand the cheeky blighter. ‘Come on, Nanny, let’s get you set up in front of the TV.’

Scott ruffled Ben’s hair as he wheeled Billie into the lounge. The kid was right though, he didn’t date. Nicole’s reaction to his mother’s stroke had left him wary of getting involved. He was better off sticking with casual hook-ups, rather than searching for ‘the one’.

Which was a shame, since he’d recently met someone who’d ignited his interest. The woman at the florist’s was just his type – a cute brunette with a curvy bum. He’d been mesmerised. Not just in a sexual way, but in a ‘I’d like to date you’ kind of way, which was not what he wanted, or could offer, so it was lucky she didn’t feel the same way.

Why was he thinking about a woman he’d only met once? Especially one who’d been less than enamoured with him. It was probably Ben’s talk of his ‘big date’, reminding him what he was missing out on. As if he needed any kind of reminder.

When social services knocked on the door shortly after eleven, all Scott’s insecurities resurfaced. The two women were nice enough, asking him how he was coping and making suitably sympathetic noises as they were shown around the adapted apartment, but Scott still felt like he was being interviewed, tested in some way, as though they didn’t quite think he was up to the task. This feeling was compounded when they walked into the lounge to find Ben re-enacting a scene from The Bourne Identity where Matt Damon rolls around the floor trying to disarm a rival agent with a bread knife. Add in Billie still wearing her nightclothes and a sink full of dirty dishes and Scott felt like the worst carer in the universe.

But they didn’t appear perturbed. Thankfully, they refused the offer of tea and made tracks to leave, but not before handing Scott another form to complete.

His heart sank. He hated forms.

He barely listened as the woman rattled on about his mum being transitioned from Disability Living Allowance to the new Personal Independence Payment. All he could see was a multi-page document with big empty squares requiring completion. It was bleeding obvious his mum needed help, anyone could see that. Why did he need to justify it to a bunch of red-tapers?

‘You have one month to complete the paperwork,’ the woman said, stepping into the communal corridor. ‘Unfortunately, there’s a backlog on claims at the moment, so you might find there’s a gap between DLA ending and PIP starting.’

Great. Just what he needed. ‘How much of a delay?’

The woman was already walking away, distancing herself from potential abuse over the inadequacies of the country’s welfare benefit system. ‘Anything up to nine months, I’m afraid. Don’t worry, any award will be backdated to the start of the claim.’

Well, that’s all right then, he thought, his sarcasm morphing into annoyance. Jesus, at this rate he might have to ask Ben for his twenty quid back.