Chapter 3

The following week was routine with two exceptions. He had to cook his own supper which was not a problem. Bea had left him a week's supply of ready meals and vegetables. The one that hit him was the emptiness of the house. Bea's greeting when he arrived home might have been perfunctory, their conversation might have been limited and their love life next to non-existent but she had been there. He missed her but, as he realised on Monday evening, merely because she was part of the furniture. He resolved to sell the house as soon as he could.

He put the wheels in motion the following morning. He decided on a sole agent saving himself half a per cent on the selling price. He had to wait until the following Saturday when he would be at home for the agent to come and do an evaluation but surmised that a week's delay was nothing in what could take several months to complete. He was not going to let the house go cheaply just to get rid of it. He did not want a huge new mortgage himself and he had to make sure that Bea had enough to set herself up better than the tiny little flat she was living in at the moment.

Bea rang him on Thursday evening. It was a call to find out if he was surviving and to tell him that she was enjoying her job, that she was grateful to him for teaching her the basics of using a computer and that Christopher had rung.

"He was sad that I had moved out but he seemed to understand."

"So did Daphne."

"Well, at least we can be proud that we produced children that love and support us despite what we've done. Have you talked to your parents?"

"No. Have you?"

"No but I think we ought to, don't you?"

"Yes. Thank you, Bea. I'll do it after we ring off."

"Do that. I'll do the same. Goodbye, Rob dear."

"Goodbye, Bea."

He rang his parents and his mother answered the call.

"Hello, Mum. Are you both well?

"Yes, darling. Dad's got a bit of a cough but, while he thinks it's the onset of lung cancer, it'll soon go. How are my grandchildren?"

"Well. Daphne's coming home next weekend."

"That's a turn up for the books. Is she in some sort of trouble?"

"No, Bea and I have separated and she's coming to comfort me or sort me out. The former, I think."

"Separated?"

"Yes, Mum darling."

"Why for Heaven's sake?"

"We were bored with each other." He paused. "It was her decision and I couldn't help but go along with it."

"Mm. That's sad but if you're both agreed what else can I say? Have you had any reaction from Christopher and Daphne?"

"Sympathy, a certain amount of sadness but Daphne seems to have seen it coming."

"I'm not entirely surprised either. I never thought she matched up to you intellectually but she's a sweet girl and I grew very fond of her."

"I know, Mum. You were less than enthusiastic when it became clear that I was serious about her but you never let me down. I should have taken more notice but I was besotted. I was so pleased when you accepted her. She loves you and respects you enormously."

"Has either of you got a replacement?"

"No, Mum."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Sell the house and get something a lot smaller. I also need to help Bea pay for something rather better than the tiny flat she's living in at the moment."

"Has she got a job?"

"Yes, with a doctors' practice. And Mum, we're still friends."

"Good! That'll be a help to the children."

"Yes, I hope so. Mum, I must go and cook myself some supper."

"Oh dear."

"No problem. There are plenty of bachelors doing the same thing."

"I suppose so. Look after yourself, Robin dear. Your father and I will be thinking of you."

"Thanks, Mum. Goodbye."

As Robin made his way onto the platform at Cannon Street the following evening his mobile rang. It was Daphne.

"I'm on the train, Daddy, and have bagged you a seat: second carriage from the front."

"Thanks, Daphne. See you in a couple of minutes."

Daphne greeted him with a hug and a kiss and they both sat down.

"Thanks for doing that, poppet, otherwise we'd have been separated."

She smiled at him. "I'm not the most popular girl on the train. Several people gave me a dirty look."

"You may not be the most popular but you're the prettiest that I can see. Are you sure it wasn't a look of disappointment?"

Her smile grew even broader. "You're a pretty well trained father, aren't you?" She tucked her arm through his.

"So you're enjoying your research, I gather."

"Mm, very much. It's fascinating. We're doing a joint project with the Health Protection Agency at Porton Down. I'm going to spend a month there in a fortnight's time."

"Are you just? Mind you don't catch one of their bugs."

"Daddy!"

"Where will you be staying?"

"In the Officers Mess at Boscombe Down."

"Ooh, lots of dashing young air force officers."

She dug him in the ribs with her elbow. "Jealousy will get you nowhere, old man."

"I should hope not, daughter. Some fatherly apprehension perhaps."

Daphne snorted indignantly and then they both laughed.

"So what exactly are you researching?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy, I can't tell you."

"OK!" Nevertheless he was impressed. Daphne must have gone through some quite high powered vetting to be allowed to take part in this sort of research.

They chatted on happily about mundanities. Neither wanted to talk in public about their private lives.

They arrived home at about quarter past six. Robin offered Daphne a drink.

"Not just yet, Daddy. I'd like to unpack, have a shower and change first."

"Fine. I'll slip into something loose too."

Daphne giggled and took her suitcase upstairs. Robin had a quick shower and changed into a polo shirt and slacks. He then prepared their dinner but did not turn the oven on.

When Daphne, in a skirt and blouse as opposed to her usual jeans, reappeared he asked her two questions. "What would you like to drink and what time do you want to eat?"

"G & T please, Daddy, since you're paying and eightish."

"Your every wish..."

He poured them both a drink and they went through to the drawing-room. He sat in his usual armchair and Daphne snuggled herself into the end of the sofa with her legs tucked beside her.

"I'm honoured that you should wear a skirt," he teased.

"Honouring the older generation," she grinned back.