Chapter 6

When the three of us reached Mum’s room, there were already two people in there, two people that we didn’t recognise. They were older than our parents and looked to be in their late sixties or early seventies.

Andy knocked on the door jamb and Mum looked up.

“Come on in, kids,” she said, her voice still weak.

We all trooped in, looking at the old couple wondering who they were.

“Hi Kids,” Mum said, “I want you to meet your grandparents. Mummy, Papa, this is Andrew, David and Alison.”

The three of us looked at each other. We didn’t know these two people and all we knew of them was that they’d effectively disowned our mother when she married Dad.

We said nothing, all three of us stood there, silently, waiting for them to make the first move, these two strangers who had suddenly appeared.

After what seemed like an age but can’t have been more than a couple of minutes, Mum broke the silence.

“Will somebody please say something?” she said.

“What do you want us to say, Mum?” Andy asked, “these people effectively threw you out of their lives when you married Dad, we don’t know them and, to be frank, speaking for myself, I don’t particularly want to know them after they did that to you.”

Alison and I looked at each other, nodded, then the three of us left the room.

Back in the waiting room, Dad looked surprised to see us.

“Your back quickly, what happened?”

“We decided that we didn’t particularly want to know two people who would throw away their daughter just because they didn’t like the man she married,” Alison said.

“Well, it wasn’t quite that simple,” he replied, “but thank you for the support, kids.”

“I take it you don’t like them, Dad,” Andy said.

“I certainly don’t like the fact that they basically put your mother in a situation where she had to make the choice between me and them,” he replied.

“Well, I think she made the right choice, Dad,” Alison added.

“Thanks, Princess,” he said. He hadn’t called her that in ages.

About ten minutes later, our grandparents came back out.

They didn’t say a word, just headed for the door.

“Excuse me,” Cal said, rising from her seat, “are you just going to sneak out. Do you have nothing to say to your family, your grandchildren?”

“Do you realise who you’re talking to young lady?” the old man asked.

“I think I’m talking to the grandparents of my friends, the grandparents of the young man I love and, from what I know, the parents of a lovely lady who has always been like a second mother to me. Who do you think I’m talking to?”

“I think you are talking, very disrespectfully I may add, to your betters,” the old man replied.

“Really?” she asked, “you disown your daughter, her husband and their three children, because she chose to marry a man you didn’t approve of? A man who has worked hard and achieved success to provide for that daughter and their children. And you think you’re better than me? You deluded old idiot.”

Dad looked a mixture of shocked and impressed and stepped up to where Cal stood.

He hugged her closely and kissed the top of her head.

“Thank you, Cal,” he said softly, “for saying what I wish I’d had the guts to say twenty years ago.”

Then he turned to the old man.

“And you, you pathetic excuse for a human being,” he said, “if you think you’ll impress me or my kids with your fancy titles and your airs and graces, think again.”

“You can’t talk to me like that,” he said, “what are you a painter and decorator? Have you made foreman yet? I could buy and sell you twice over.”

I decided I’d had enough and stepped towards him. My Dad put a restraining hand on my arm.

“Actually, you old fool, I own the most successful decorating business in Yorkshire and what are you? A retired police sergeant living on his pension. How much is your title worth now? And you want to talk about buy and sell? Andy do me a favour would you. Look up your brother on that net worth site on the internet.”

Andy took out his phone and started tapping keys and, a few seconds later handed the phone to Dad.

“Here,” he said, “see what your seventeen-year-old grandson can buy and sell. Then, take your sorry arse back to whatever hole you crawled out of and do not attempt to contact me or any member of my family again. When I rang you earlier, I felt that you had a right to know that your daughter was in hospital, but I was wrong, you have no rights here, now get out.”

I could see that the old man was building up to more bluster but couldn’t find anything to bluster with.

“Now go,” Dad spat, “and if you ever want to come back, you need to realise, we are a family, you don’t get to cherry pick which ones of us you accept, all or nothing and if you do decide you can accept that, you need to be in an apologising mood, to Pat, to me and to the kids. And believe me old man, you had better be bloody sincere about it.”

Neither of them said a word, just turned and walked out of the door.

“I’m sorry,” Cal said, “I shouldn’t have gone off like that.”

“Don’t be sweetie,” Dad said, “I really wish I’d had the guts to do that twenty years ago. He seems to think that he’s something special, just because some distant ancestor of his bedded the king.”

My eyes grew wide at that revelation.

“What’s that about?” I asked.

“The story goes that your however many times great grandmother was one of George the second’s mistresses. When she had a son, which is rumoured to be the king’s, but could equally have been her husband’s, the King created the Earldom of Wakefield for him. Your granddad is the current Earl.”

“So he’s a member of the house of Lords?” Alison asked.

“No,” Dad laughed, “because he was a serving member of the police force, he was barred from taking his seat until he retired. Two days before his retirement, the house changed so that only ninety-two hereditary peers were still members. Because he wasn’t a sitting member at the time that they elected those, he didn’t get a chance. I do hope he was greatly disappointed.”

Cal looked at her watch.

“David, we need to start thinking about getting going if we’re going to get you checked in and get to school for dinner.”

She looked at me as she said it.

“If you prefer to stay here until your Mum’s better, I understand,” she said.

“But all my stuff’s in your car,” I said.

“Then I’ll keep it in my room until you can come over.”

“Are you sure, I should only be a couple of days.”

“I’m sure, you’ll only sit all day fretting over there,” she said, “you’ll be much better staying over here and I’ll see you later in the week. Walk me to the car?”

Dad and Alison went back in to see Mum after saying goodbye to Cal, which left only Andy in the waiting room with us. Cal walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek.

“See ya, Andy,” she said to him, “Look after my man for me while you’re up here will you?”

‘So, I’m her man again now.’ I thought.

We walked out to the car holding hands and when she unlocked the door I opened it for her. She turned and hugged me tight and the tilted her face up for a kiss, it was long deep and heartfelt.

“Thank you,” she said and climbed behind the wheel, “I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “drive safely.”

“I will, I have something to look forward to.”

Then she closed the door, started the engine and was off.

I walked, slowly, back into the hospital my head buzzing with all that had just happened and took the lift back up to the ward.

The waiting room was empty, so, I assumed that Dad and the other two were in with Mum. Since we were breaking the rules already, I didn’t think one more would matter.

I walked into Mum’s room and their conversation stopped immediately.

“So, who was saying what about me?” I asked.

“What makes you think we were discussing you?” Andy asked.

“Two things, first you just asked that question and second, you clammed up as soon as I walked in. I heard you talking down the corridor, but couldn’t make out what you were saying, except for my name.”

I hadn’t, but they didn’t know that.

“Yes,” Mum said, “we were just saying how nice it was that you and Cal are friends again.”

“Then perhaps you can do the two of us a huge favour and let us sort it out for ourselves.”

Then I turned and walked out.

Twenty-five minutes later, I was sitting in the coffee shop opposite the bus station when my phone rang, it was Alison.

“Yes,” I snapped.

“David, we weren’t plotting how to get the two of you back together,” she said without any preamble, “we were just discussing how much more pleasant the atmosphere at home would be with the two of you being at least friendly to each other. Where are you?”

“Having a coffee and a slice of cake.”

“But you’re not in the hospital coffee shop.”

“No, the one opposite the bus station.”

“Stay where you are, Andy and I are on our way.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because we’re coming to pick you up in Dad’s car,” she said, “you could be nice and get us two teas while you’re waiting.”

“And a slice of cake?” I asked.

“Of course.”

They walked in ten minutes later, half of which had been spent trying to find somewhere to park. If there’s a place on Earth worse than Wakefield when it comes to parking, I’ve never heard of it. And I’ve been to Los Angeles.

“All right why are you picking me up?” I asked, “I was thinking that I’d walk down to Kirkgate station and get the train.”

“Because we’re taking you to Birch Services.”

“All right,” I said, “I’ll bite. Why are you taking me to Birch Services?”

“Because that’s where Cal is waiting for you,” Alison said, “We talked to Dad and he agreed that it’s probably more important for you to sort out how you and Cal are going to be, than to be here for Mum. Not that there’s anything to worry about with her, they’re throwing her out tonight.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Yep,” Alison replied, “it seems it was just low blood pressure; they’ve adjusted her medication and she should be all right from now on.”

“That must be a relief for Dad,” I said.