The House We Called Home: The magical, laugh out loud summer holiday read from the bestselling Jenny Oliver. Jenny Oliver

‘Please,’ she said. ‘Please, I did buy a ticket. This is a nightmare day for me. I’m going home because my dad’s gone missing. I’m not thinking straight. My emotions are all over the place,’ she sighed, pushed her stupid short hair back, ‘because I’m pregnant. And,’ she sighed again, ‘well, you don’t need to know everything about it, but let’s just say it’s not ideal and I did buy a ticket, I promise I did, because the man at the counter I remember thinking looked like Father Christmas and he gave me a toffee.’ She reached into her pocket, eyes welling up. ‘Look, see here,’ she held up the shiny wrapper of the Werther’s Original. ‘See, this is the wrapper.’ She nodded, trying to elicit a response. She could see the people around her shifting in their seats as they uncomfortably tried to listen and not listen at the same time. ‘Do you see?’ she said, brandishing the tiny crinkle of gold. ‘And I nearly threw it away but I didn’t because I liked that he’d given it to me.’ She put her hands up to her eyes to wipe away the first spill of tears. ‘Do you see?’ she said again, voice plaintive, nodding at him and wiping her face while also trying to find a tissue in her jacket pocket.

      The ticket man seemed to think for a second, then reaching into his own pocket brought out a brand new Kleenex. ‘That would be Geoff,’ he said. ‘Santa Claus with the toffees.’

      Amy blew her nose. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, Geoff.’ She had no idea what his name had been.

      ‘OK,’ he said, tapping something into the machine that hung round his neck and handing her a replacement ticket. ‘Just this once.’

      Amy put her hand on her chest. ‘Oh thank you, thank you so much.’

      He nodded. ‘I hope you find your father.’

      Amy nodded.

      ‘And that everything works out with the baby.’

      She nodded again, wiping her eyes, clutching the new ticket.

      The ticket inspector walked away down the aisle and into the next compartment.

      ‘Bloody hell,’ said Gus, flopping back in his seat, shaking his head, dumbfounded. ‘That was unbelievable.’

      ‘What?’ Amy said, blowing her nose.

      ‘That you just managed to get away with that.’

      ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

      ‘Yes, you do. That— That little-girl-lost routine. That was unbelievable. How old are you?’

      Amy looked at him affronted. ‘You don’t ask a woman that question.’

      ‘But you ask a little girl.’ Gus raised a brow.

      ‘Why are you so horrible?’

      ‘Why are you so like that?’ he said, gesturing to the tissue and the ticket and the blotchy face. ‘Normal people just pay the fine when it’s their fault they lost the ticket. Look at what you put that poor guy through.’

      ‘He was kind to me,’ Amy snapped, feeling like she was under attack.

      ‘Yeah, and you made him feel really awkward.’

      ‘I did not.’

      ‘You think it wasn’t awkward? You crying about your whole life history?’

      ‘I don’t want to talk about this any more with you.’

      ‘Oh, that’s right.’ Gus snorted a laugh. ‘That’s your answer. Very mature. I’m delighted that you’re about to be the mother of my child.’

      Amy gasped. ‘How dare you?’

      Gus blew out a breath. ‘How dare I?’ He shook his head, turning to look out of the window, closing his eyes for a second longer than necessary.

      Amy felt a rush of resentment, it made her want to do something to him – flick his coffee over or maybe pinch his arm. But she sat seething instead, trying to get her hair to stay tucked behind her ear. Gus took a slurp of espresso and went back to his book all aloof.

      ‘Well at least I don’t read picture books,’ Amy sniped, immediately regretting the comment, immediately realising she’d made herself look even more of a fool.

      Gus turned his head slowly as if deigning to address her. ‘What, you mean this Eisner Award-winning graphic novel?’ He rolled his eyes. ‘You stick to your Grazia, Amy.’

      ‘There is nothing wrong with Grazia.’ Amy wanted to take her new ticket and stab his eyes out with it. ‘It’s very issue-led.’

      Gus smirked. ‘I’ll look out for it on the Pulitzers.’

      ‘I’ll look out for it on the Pulitzers,’ Amy repeated, all whiny and childish.

      ‘That’s very grown up. Again, mother of child, very glad.’

      ‘I hate you.’

      ‘Rest assured, the feeling is mutual.’

CHAPTER 6

      Just pulling up in front of the house in the taxi made Amy feel better: the sweep of purple sunset like smoke out of the chimney, the sparkle of the solar-powered fairy lights wrapped round the almond tree just visible in the early evening light, and the big hydrangea flowers like perfect pink balloons. The gravel underfoot gave the same comforting crunch as it had her whole life. She just had to block out the crunch of Gus’s feet next to her. As she put her key in the lock she could already picture the dark cosy hallway, smell the roast dinner from the kitchen, see the flicker of the TV, and a fire in the front room.

      Except it was summer and there was no fire. And she’d forgotten her mother had had the entire ground floor demolished. When Amy left last it had still been a building site. Now, as she opened the door, she saw it was all pale and grand and open. She swallowed. Everyone was looking up from where they sat in the living room, watching. There was no time to take a breath in the hallway any longer or peek her head round the door and beckon her mother over.

      ‘Er, hello,’ Amy said, conscious of the presence of Gus next to her and everyone staring. ‘Have you found Daddy?’

      Moira stood up. ‘No darling, not yet. We’re about to make a plan.’

      Amy nodded. She felt suddenly on the verge of tears, like she wanted to throw herself at her mother and sob about everything, but in defiance of Gus and his already derogatory opinion of her she stayed rooted where she was.

      ‘Hi.’ Gus raised a hand.

      ‘Hello,’ Stella said back from where she sat at the table, watching intrigued and looking all cool and relaxed in a loose black sleeveless shirt, the plainest gold hoop earrings, skinny jeans and bare feet. Amy saw her glance across at Jack. Jack raise a brow back at Stella. Their silent language asking, ‘Who the hell is he?’

      ‘This is Gus. My—’ Amy paused by mistake because the word friend got stuck in her throat.

      ‘Just a friend,’ said Gus, which sounded so ridiculously unnatural that it made Amy want to cover her face as she blushed scarlet under her hastily retouched contouring. Stella was clearly holding in a smirk.

      ‘Hello darling. Hello Gus, lovely to meet you. You must be exhausted from the journey, it’s such a long time to sit on a train. Come in, sit down, have a drink.’ Moira stood up, glossing over any awkwardness regards this stranger in their midst, and came over to greet the pair.

      Gus dumped his bag by the stairs and went to take the beer that Jack was pouring like he’d never needed anything more in his life. Moira gave Amy a kiss and a hug and whispered in her ear, ‘Will you be sharing a room?’

      ‘Absolutely not,’ Amy snapped.

      ‘Righto,’ said her mother. Then turning back to Stella said, ‘Rosie and Sonny are OK to share, aren’t they?’

      ‘Oh,