The Open House

‘I’m arranging an open house for you. It’s the best way to create a buzz about your property. My gut tells me something will come from it.’

My focus leaves the road as I stare at the speaker where Carl’s excited voice is emanating. Oh, God. An open house sounds horrendous. A bunch of strangers traipsing in and out of my home all at once, finding fault with my décor, my furniture, my life – each trying to outdo the other with their snide remarks. I don’t actually have any experience of open-house events, but I do have experience with people – so that’s how I imagine them to go.

I’m about to decline, tell him I don’t think it’s a good idea at all, when I hear myself saying, ‘Sure. Let’s try it. What’s the worst that can happen?’

Chapter Three

Barb

I linger in the house after Amber leaves with the boys; I don’t want to go yet. I’m not ready. Slowly, I circle the lounge, brushing my fingers over each of the framed photographs of my precious grandsons. I smile as I remove my favourite one from the cheap, white IKEA bookcase; I’d never have entertained such a monstrosity when this was my house. The picture is of Nick standing behind Finley and Leo, his arms draped loosely around their shoulders as, between them, they hold up their catch from the fishing trip. It was taken last year, just before Amber dropped her bombshell. My fingertip traces the boys’ ruddy faces; their expressions, happy and proud. They’re the spit of Nick and Tim when they were that age. An ache pummels my stomach; I rub it away with my other hand.

The thought of not being able to drop in and see my only grandchildren when I want to, not being able to give them hugs every week, crushes me. A pain burns from within my chest.

I’m going to lose it all if I’m not careful.

I can’t let them leave. I just can’t.

Chapter Four

Amber

The afternoon traffic is at a standstill and I’m still twenty minutes from the school. I crane my neck for the tenth time to see what the hold-up is. For the tenth time I see nothing but a line of stationary vehicles. What is going on? There are no cars coming in the opposite direction either, so whatever it is, I’m assuming it’s bad and the entire road is blocked. It’s been like this for seven minutes according to my car clock.

I drum my fingers on the steering wheel. If we aren’t moving within the next five minutes, I’m not going to be there in time for school pick-up. It’s not a disaster because the teachers at Stockwood will obviously keep hold of the boys until I get there. There is an after-school club opposite the primary school, so if I ring and explain, I’m sure they’ll walk them over there even though they aren’t registered. I’ll pay the fee as a one-off – there shouldn’t be a problem.

I hate being late. And yet it’s getting to be a habit.

Car horns blare up ahead. I’m glad I’m not the only impatient one.

I switch to the local radio station in case there’s a travel update. Maybe there’s been an accident. Although, there’s been no sign of any emergency vehicles; I haven’t heard any sirens. Ed Sheeran’s song is playing for the millionth time today. Why must they repeat the same song until it makes you want to gouge your own eyes out? Hurry up with the news.

Maybe it’s a fallen tree. The recent rain after the long dry spell may have caused the embankment to slide. This road is known for it. I wish I’d taken the left turning before the roundabout and gone the alternative route. It’s shorter, but narrow, so if you’re unlucky you spend half an hour reversing up and down the same piece of road. This way is longer, but wider. And usually it’s an easier drive.

Sod it. There’s still no movement.

I press the phone icon on the car display and hit School.

‘Oh, hi, it’s Amber Miller,’ I say, relieved it’s Jill who’s picked up. She’s the more amenable of the two school secretaries. ‘I’m so sorry, but I’m going to be late picking Finley and Leo up. There’s some kind of hold-up on—’

‘No worries, Amber,’ Jill says, brightly. ‘Their nan has collected them.’

‘Oh? That wasn’t arranged …’ I press my fingertips to my forehead and with a circular motion rub at the furrows. Why has Barb done that without me asking her to? There’s an uncomfortable pause at the other end of the line.

‘Erm … Barbara Miller is a named guardian; she’s on the list you gave …’

‘Oh, yes, I know. It’s fine, Jill. Don’t worry. I just hadn’t asked her to pick up today, that’s all.’ I finish the call.

What will Barb do with them? She can’t take them home because I had to give the only spare key to Carl. Perhaps she’ll take them to the park. But why didn’t she call me to let me know she wanted to pick them up? She’s always waited to be asked in the past.

A thought pushes itself into my mind, and I immediately try to dismiss it as ridiculous. I’m probably overthinking her actions.

But I can’t help thinking Barb has done this on purpose so she can get my boys to herself.

Chapter Five

Amber

It’s another fifteen minutes before the cars ahead of me finally begin to edge forwards.

‘Well, about bloody time,’ I shout as I turn the engine back on. It’s been the longest fifteen minutes I’ve ever experienced and during this time I’ve run through several scenarios about where she could’ve taken them. I’ve rung Barb’s mobile a dozen times and each time it’s gone to voicemail. I leave a light and breezy message asking where she, Finley and Leo are. I don’t think Barb would take the boys to her bungalow – it’s a bit far out and she doesn’t drive, so would have to get a bus or taxi. I’m not quite sure what she’s playing at by randomly picking Finley and Leo up from school without even speaking to me first, but I’m beginning to feel she’s got an agenda. With Leo saying his nanna had told him she’s coming with us to Kent, and now this – I’m contemplating the possibility that she’s trying to get into their heads; manipulate them so they beg me not to leave Stockwood or something. I’m being mean, really, thinking Barb would be underhand in this way. She’s not a bad person.

But she is a desperate one.

I tap my palm against my forehead as though that’ll dispel the thought. I’ll be back home, all being well, in the next ten minutes, then my mind will be at rest when I see them all waiting for me at the front of the house.

Then I might ring Nick and tell him how his mother is bloody interfering.

She’s always interfered to an extent, though. Particularly in the early days. It began after the first seven months of being together, when it looked like me and Nick were becoming serious about each other. She’d been all sweetness and light up until that point – especially once she found out my parents had been killed in a car accident when I was eighteen. She’d happily have me over for meals and let me stay most nights. Her attitude cooled, though, when she realised I might be a permanent fixture in Nick’s life. In her life. It had taken at least eighteen months of hard work on my part to coax her, get her to come around to the idea Nick didn’t need her as much as he needed me. She felt replaced. I get that – it can’t be easy. No doubt I’ll have all that to come with my own boys.

And she only had Nick. She’d already lost her other son, Tim – he ran away when he was seventeen and was never heard from again – so I was mindful of that. Careful to include Barb in our plans, involve her in the wedding organisation. After Finley was born, something changed; she seemed to soften, becoming more affable. When she offered Nick and me the family house, I knew I’d properly “arrived”; I’d been fully accepted. She liked me; I’d given her a grandchild. She was happy for me to be a part of Nick’s life.

I understand how she must feel now things have changed – like her family is being torn apart again. Me leaving her son after twelve years of marriage and now wanting to leave Devon, is a big blow. We are everything to her. But she must understand life can’t stay the same forever. I am not the person I was when I first met Nick. Nick certainly isn’t who I first fell in love with. Everyone changes over time; that’s life. She’ll have to adapt, too. It’s not like I’m taking Finley and Leo abroad – we’ll be a few hours’ train ride away. She can visit – I’ve made that clear.

Maybe not clear enough.

I turn off the main road and slowly drive through the village. Annoyance makes me grip the steering wheel tightly as my eyes search the pavements for Barb and my boys. Nothing. I’m still banking on them being outside the house, playing on the lawn while Barb sits on the doorstep waiting for me.

I round the corner, turn right at the junction and drive into Apple Grove. The pavement in front of my place is empty, the garden deserted.

I do a quick U-turn and drive back out. Where the hell is she?

The playing field. Finley would’ve begged Barb to take them there, where he could go off to the skatepark and not be seen with his nanna and brother. It’s the only other place I can think she’d go with them.

Squeals from children greet me when I exit the car and hurry to the park gate. I scan the playing field, visually checking off each piece of equipment. I can’t see Leo. All the benches on the perimeter are empty. No Barb. Squinting, I try to see if Finley is at the far end by the skate ramps. There are a group of kids there, but not him, I’m sure.

Bloody hell.

Adrenaline surges through my veins. Barb is out of order taking my children without permission. I turn, the gravel crunching beneath my feet, and run back to my car. I try her mobile again and this time I can’t help myself – I leave a shitty message. She’s got ten more minutes, then I’m calling Nick. I hope it’s a case of having missed them and while I’ve been driving around, they’ve returned home.

I throw the door open. The house is quiet. Going room to room, I check if any of their school stuff has been deposited. There’s a possibility Carl might’ve let Barb in if he happened to be here showing a client around the time school ended. But there’s no sign of them. Where on earth are they? I’ll have to do another drive around the village.

As I’m about to step back out the front door again, I see something sticking out of the letterbox on the inside. I grab it. A torn page from Finley’s jotter is folded in half. Words written in pencil are scrawled across it.

Nanna picked us up from school. Daddy is taking us all to Maccies. Love Finley and Leo xx

‘Really?’ I screw the paper up. ‘Fuck’s sake, Nick. Thanks for the call.’

Honestly. Is it so difficult to pick up the phone and ask? He’s never done this before. It’s got to be Barb’s idea. My agitation continues to grow despite now knowing where they are.

I need to vent.

Chapter Six

Amber

‘Hey, Jo. Mind if I come in for a bit?’ I force my lips into a smile, which likely resembles more of a grimace.

‘Don’t do that. It looks like you’re constipated,’ Jo says as she swings the door open and steps aside.

I’ve walked down the road to the only safe place I know. The one place where I can shout and scream, swear and rant without any judgement. And where, without fail, I’m offered wine.

‘Thanks,’ I say as I head through the hallway passage, which leads to the kitchen – the hub of the home, as Jo always says. Keeley is standing by the open fridge, a large glass of white in one hand. She stretches it out towards me.

‘Ahh. How did you know?’ I take it from her and immediately gulp some of the cold liquid. I feel my body relax a little, the tension already beginning to disperse.

‘Amber. As soon as Jo opened the door, I could sense your current mood,’ Keeley says with a sympathetic smile.

‘What’s he done now?’ Jo asks.

‘Well, actually it’s not Nick. Or, not directly, anyway. It’s Barb!’

‘Oh, that old battle-axe? She still sticking her nose in where it’s not wanted?’

‘She picked the boys up from school today, without me asking, and without telling me. I was running late, but she wouldn’t have known that.’ I slide onto one of the bar stools next to the kitchen island. ‘She just took it upon herself to do it, and then … then, she got Nick to take them all to McDonald’s!’ I take a breath. ‘She got Finley to write me a note and stuff it in through the letterbox. I only just saw it.’

‘God, Amber. I’m sorry, mate. You don’t need the extra worry on top of the stress you already have in your life.’ Jo places an arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze.

‘Have you spoken to Barb or Nick yet?’ Keeley asks.

‘I left a shitty message on Barb’s phone before I realised where they were. I was a bit hasty. I’m sure that’ll cause an argument—’

‘Er … well that’s not your fault,’ Jo cuts in. ‘Your obstinate mother-in-law is to blame; she shouldn’t have taken them in the first place if it hadn’t been arranged. She of all people should know better, Amber. Don’t you dare make excuses for her or worry about the repercussions of your message. She needs to be worrying about the consequences of taking the boys without consent. And don’t get me started on Nick. Why didn’t he call you?’

‘I don’t know. Punishment, maybe?’ I take another gulp of wine, then reconsider my statement. He wouldn’t have been punishing me; it’s not his style. ‘Or, more likely, lack of thinking,’ I add quickly.

‘He’s a detective. Lack of thought isn’t one of his many faults.’ Jo purses her lips.

‘He hasn’t got that many faults, Jo.’ I find myself defending Nick because despite the separation, the reasons for it, we did have some very happy times. We’d bonded at a gig – a terrible rock tribute band – as we happened to be standing next to each other, both laughing at how bad they were. I’d looked up at him, his floppy dark hair and boyish good looks immediately causing my heart to skip. It was as though it was meant to be.

The first years were good, but after we married, his obsession with his job and the long shifts began to alter our relationship, particularly once Finley was born. Then when Leo came along, tiredness, stress and lonely hours came between us. Maybe I was too needy – always wanting and expecting more of Nick. Somehow, somewhere, we lost our connection; the love dwindled, and his dark moods became more frequent. He seemed to be chasing something, a missing part of his life. A gap I wasn’t good enough to fill. And then, of course, came the other woman. The police sergeant who was suddenly the one he confided in because he spent more time at the station than at home. The beginning of the end. I went through a tough time, and Jo was privy to my struggles. She was the one to pick me up.

Jo’s always had my back, has done from day one of secondary school. That first day when I was being bullied by the older girls, she’d rocked up and given them what-for and from that moment on I knew I had a friend for life. We’d gone our separate ways following college – she moved away and later met Keeley. After marrying her in a civil ceremony in 2008, they’d come back to Devon and I was thrilled they chose to live in Stockwood. But while I loved her choice of partner, Jo had never really taken to Nick. As one of my oldest friends, though, she’d tried her best to put her own feelings about him aside for my sake. Until I announced the split. Then he became fair game.

I sit with Jo and Keeley for just over an hour, the conversation eventually turning to Richard and how he’s so much better for me than Nick. My anxiety lowers as I talk about my new relationship. Jo says I’ve got a sparkle in my eyes and excitement in my voice when I’m speaking about him. And it’s true – the warm glow, the nervous tummy, the happiness that even thinking about him creates, is exciting. And all of it points to this being a good move for me.

On a brighter note than when I went in, I leave – my head a little woozy from the wine. It’s been good to get my frustration, and anger, off my chest before facing Barb. My emotions are in better check now.

Nick’s car isn’t outside the house. That’s good; I’ll have time to thoroughly compose myself. Although it is annoying that the later they are, the more difficult it’s going to be to settle the boys for bed. I don’t suppose Nick’s thought of that, seeing as it’s not him going to have to cope with them.

I’m almost through the front door when I hear Davina’s voice.

God, not now.

‘I wondered where you were,’ she shouts, as she walks across the road in her slippers. I internally groan. ‘Seemed quiet at yours.’

‘Well, yes. Because no one was in.’ I give a tight smile. Davina doesn’t even flinch at my sarcasm. Her skin is as thick as a rhino’s. She pulls the sides of her long grey cardigan across her chest. That’s a sign she’s settling in for a lengthy chat. I’ll have to nip this in the bud.

‘Saw a fella coming and going – thought it must be a new man in your life?’ Her pitch goes up irritatingly high at the end of her sentence – it’s something she does with every question she asks. And she asks many questions.

‘No, no.’ I don’t want to tell her anything about Richard. ‘Just the estate agent I expect – and prospective buyers,’ I say before rushing inside and slamming the door. Why must she be so nosy? It’s Neighbourhood Watch overkill. You’d think she was an eighty-year-old spinster the way she goes on, not a married, fifty-something woman. I don’t understand why she spends so much time talking about other people’s business. I go to the kitchen and fill up the kettle. I’ll have a coffee to counter the alcohol.

Carl hadn’t mentioned any viewings, so I’ve no idea who Davina saw. I wish I’d paid the subscription for the SmartRing app now – I could have used the recording feature and looked back through the footage of the comings and goings just to check. But it was one more expense I couldn’t justify, and I only really want to be able to see who’s at the door when I’m home before answering it; screening visitors the way I now screen all my calls. Anyway, wouldn’t Carl have told me if he’d shown someone around? Maybe he was re-checking measurements or taking new photos or something in preparation for the open house.

The doorbell rings, bringing me out of my thoughts. I don’t need to check the app now as I can hear the excited, sugar-induced squeals from Finley and Leo on the other side.

‘What’s crawled up your nose?’ Nick says after I wrench open the door and glare at him. His comment does nothing to ease my annoyance.

Deep breath. Slow, deep breaths. Don’t lose it.

‘What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?’ My hoarse “whisper” isn’t as quiet, or calm, as I intend. The boys have already rushed inside, but I keep Nick and his mother on the doorstep, their smug, shocked faces now looking up at me, aghast.

‘Oh, please!’ I continue when they don’t say a word. ‘Don’t play the innocent with me. You shouldn’t have taken them, Barb. Not without my permission. I was worried,’ I say, flicking my eyes from one guilty party to the other. Nick stands rigidly, arms at his sides, his piercing blue eyes boring into mine.

‘We left a note …’

‘Not good enough, Nick. Your mother picked them up from school without even speaking to me first.’ I purposely talk about Barb as though she’s not there, not making further eye contact with her for fear of what else might come out of my mouth.

‘She just thought it would be nice, seeing as she’s probably not got long left with them,’ Nick says, his fashionably stubbled chin jutting forwards in defiance.

‘Oh, why? Is she dying?’ I can’t help myself. Nick shakes his head and sighs, as if I’m the one who needs chastising.

‘Look, I’m sorry if I worried you, Amber, darling.’ Barb steps forward into my line of sight. She wouldn’t be coming into such close proximity if she knew what was going through my mind. And “darling”? I bristle, but hold my tongue. Let her continue to wriggle out of this. ‘But when you didn’t show up, I thought it was best to take them with me, you know, rather than leave them alone on the school playground like poor, forgotten children.’

‘They were not forgotten, Barb, and I wasn’t that late. I’d called the school and they would’ve ensured a teacher stayed with them until I arrived.’

‘But I was right there – it would’ve been silly to leave them, no?’

I can’t argue with Barb when she’s in this mood. It’s counterproductive.

‘Yes, but a phone call would have been nice. No?’ I widen my eyes as I use her phrasing against her.

‘Well, we all had a lovely time at Maccies, and the boys are safe and home, so no harm done,’ Nick says as he takes Barb by her elbow and they turn away from me. But I’m not finished yet.

‘Who are you to say if harm has or hasn’t been done?’

‘Amber, please don’t make this into something it isn’t, eh?’ Nick’s voice softens, his eyes flitting to next door. I’ve probably got an audience now with the fuss I’m making. But I don’t appear to be able to stem my rush of anger now it’s flowing.

‘In future, no one picks the boys up unless it’s arranged that they do so. Okay?’

‘Fine.’ Nick shakes his head again.

‘I do want to make the most of them being here, though, Amber,’ Barb adds. ‘I am their only nanna, after all. It would be such a shame to deprive us all of the time we have left.’

‘You have a lifetime left, Barb. We will only be a few hours away by train and I’ve told you, you can visit whenever you like. Please don’t act as though I’m taking them away from you – they’re my kids.’

‘Mine too,’ Nick says, quietly.

It’s the first time I see tears in his eyes.

Am I being an awful person by wanting to move away?

Chapter Seven

Barb

‘See what I mean? She’s being unreasonable, Nick. Over-reacting,’ I say, when we’re both in his car heading out of Amber’s road. My road. ‘As she’s prone to doing …’

‘Mum. Don’t start, please.’

‘But, if she hadn’t started all this horrible business, then none of this would be happening, would it? Why don’t you fight it, Nick? Why?’

Nick takes one hand off the steering wheel and rubs it over his face. ‘I’ve been over and over this. Leave it be; it’s not your concern.’

‘It most certainly is my concern.’ I twist sharply in the passenger seat to face him. ‘Those boys are everything to me – all I’ve got …’ I dab a crinkled-up piece of tissue over my cheeks, patting the tears away.

‘Oh, don’t cry, Mum. Tears don’t help anyone,’ Nick says. The pain is clear on his face. I hate seeing him upset.

‘I only want you to be happy. Want us all to be a family again. I don’t understand why you don’t want that, too.’

‘It’s not as simple as you think.’

‘It is simple, Nick. I can help you.’

‘She’s made her decision and I’m not standing in her way. Life’s too short and I’ve enough on my plate.’

‘What exactly do you have on your plate, Nick? Some cold cases that are more pressing than losing your family?’

‘That’s not fair.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I mumble. It was below the belt, and I shouldn’t be taking Amber’s shortcomings out on him. Since she threw him out, he has suffered emotionally. He was only put in charge of cold cases as his superior noticed him struggling at work. Poor Nick, the shock of the separation got to him. No wonder his mind wasn’t as sharp as usual. At least not being on the frontline, as such, means his stress levels are somewhat lower now.

‘It’s okay. I know you worry, but I’m fine. Amber and the boys are fine. And Richard is a good bloke.’

‘How can you be so sure of that? You haven’t even met him,’ I snap. ‘Amber found him on the internet, for goodness’ sake. He could be anyone.’