Название | Home Truths |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Susan Lewis |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780008286804 |
Steve grinned as Angie parted her fingers, pretending to take a peek. ‘OK, you can look now,’ he announced.
As Angie lowered her hands she gazed around the street of brand spanking new houses, not quite understanding.
‘Oh Dad! There’s a bridge,’ Liam exclaimed in awe, and as though his father had just given him the best thing ever he leapt out of the back to go and investigate.
As they watched him, Angie said, ‘Are we on the Fairweather estate?’
‘We are,’ Steve confirmed.
‘And you,’ she continued to guess, ‘worked on these houses so you’ve brought us to see them before their new owners move in?’
‘Kind of,’ he smiled, and getting out of the compact Peugeot they’d bought for her a couple of years back, he came round to open her door.
‘Dad! Dad! Look at me,’ Liam cried from the bridge, and making certain Steve was watching he raced across it and back again, looking so pleased with himself that Steve wanted to go and swing him up so high he’d scream with delight. He still wasn’t learning as quickly as other children, but it didn’t make him stupid, it was simply that his progress was happening at a different speed. In every other way he was an adorable, playful, and happy young boy who wanted no more than to be everyone’s friend.
Steve and Angie sometimes wondered if Liam’s shortcomings were what made him even more special. Certainly they brought out his father’s protective instincts in a way nothing else ever had. However, they were careful not to smother or overindulge him. They just wanted him to feel like any other child of his age and to know that even when the new baby came, which would be any day now, he would still be their number one.
After almost six years and four heart-breaking miscarriages, Liam was at last going to have a little sister.
‘OK, I give up, what are we supposed to be looking at?’ Angie demanded as Steve tugged her out of the car.
‘It’s the bridge,’ Liam insisted as he ran back to join them.
‘Not quite,’ Steve replied, ‘although it’s a part of it,’ and stooping so Liam could jump on his back, he turned towards the double-fronted house in front of them. ‘This, my darling,’ he said to Angie, feeling so much pride and happiness welling up in him it was hard to keep his voice steady, ‘is our new home.’
Angie blinked, looked at it and then at him. ‘But we can’t afford anything like this,’ she protested.
It was true, they couldn’t, although Steve certainly earned well. His skills as a painter and decorator and all-round Mr Fix-It were always in high demand, but he was so keen for them all to have everything they wanted – her car, Liam’s extra classes, his own sports gear, great holidays – that they’d never managed to save very much. However, now their family was growing they needed somewhere bigger than the small flat they’d been squashed into for the past couple of years. ‘We don’t have to buy it,’ he explained. ‘Hari is going to let us rent it from him at a price we can afford.’
Angie’s mouth fell open as her eyes lit with disbelief and the first hint of excitement.
Apart from being Steve’s boss, Hari Shalik had become like a father figure to them since they’d arrived in Kesterly. In fact, he was the reason they’d moved to this coastal town in the first place. Someone had told him about the high quality of Steve’s work, so Hari had tried him out on a six-month contract and after three months he’d offered to put Steve in charge of all his development projects if he would agree to move his family to the area. So Steve and Angie had come here with Liam and although Steve effectively remained his own boss, meaning he was free to take on other jobs when Hari had no need of him, most of his work came either from, or through his mentor. Hari was a good man, wise and patient, always fair, and he made it plain that if they ever hit any difficulties they must always come to him. Since Steve’s father had died when he was very young, this had meant a lot to him.
‘So let me get this straight,’ Angie said, ‘after building all these beautiful houses …’
‘Hari didn’t build them,’ Steve came in, ‘he invested in the project and gave me the job of painting, decorating and finishing off the ones he’d earmarked for himself. There are two on this street – he’s already sold the other, no doubt at an enormous profit – and half a dozen semis just over the bridge. He’s going to be renting them out too, so I’ve already put Emma and Ben forward as prospective tenants.’
Angie was still staring at him in amazement.
Knowing she was absorbing the idea of having her beloved sister nearby, Steve marked himself up another point and said with a grin, ‘I’ve got the keys.’
‘But …’ Words were still clearly failing her, until she broke into helpless laughter. ‘Why on earth would Hari give us something like this?’ she cried.
‘He told me it’s his way of saying thanks for all the deadlines I’ve helped him keep, and holes I’ve dug him out of.’
‘But an entire house …’
‘We’re renting it,’ he reminded her, ‘and he’s promised it’ll always be at a price we can afford.’
‘Does Roland know about it?’ she asked, referring to Hari’s son who was a few years older than Steve, and openly resentful of Steve’s closeness to his father.
‘I’ve no idea,’ Steve replied. ‘Now, come on, let’s go inside and take a look.’
It was a dream home for them, with more space than they were able to imagine filling, and it exuded such a welcoming air that it seemed to embrace them the minute they walked in. To the right of the hall with its wide wooden staircase and built-in cupboards was a huge family-cum-play-room that went all the way from the front to the back of the house, where floor-to-ceiling French doors – still criss-crossed with manufacturers’ tape – opened on to a newly laid patio.
‘I thought I could put my piano here,’ Steve indicated a dusty space just inside the doors, ‘that way you can hear me playing when you’re outside drinking wine in the garden.’ The piano had been in storage since his mother’s death three years ago because they’d had nowhere to put it, and he missed it more than he’d expected to.
‘You can have the piano wherever you like,’ Angie told him, looking misty-eyed, ‘just as long as you promise to sing Nat King Cole songs whenever I ask.’
‘It’s a deal,’ he laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. ‘Now what’s going on with you up there?’ he asked Liam, who was still riding on his father’s back. ‘You’ve gone very quiet.’
In a worried voice Liam said, ‘Will I be moving in too?’
Swinging him round into his arms, Steve said, ‘We’d never go anywhere without you, my boy. This is going to be your home from now on, and because you’re the oldest you get to choose your room first.’
Lighting up at that, Liam said, ‘Can I have this one?’
‘For playing and entertaining,’ Steve promised, ‘but you need a bedroom, so why don’t you run upstairs