Page 67 of Not Strictly Ballroom

“Oh, I knew I’d love you.” Gran cackles at Darcy with delight, then, in an aside to me, she whispers loudly, “Don’t let this one go, Nicholas.”

Like that was ever going to happen.

“Mrs Parker!” Darcy blushes again.

“I think you can call me Gran too now, don’t you?” She tells him and his colour deepens.

“Is everything alright, love?” my mum asks, as she and Dad appear next to our table.

“Well, Mrs Parker has just given Nick her house,” he says, breaking the news for me. I look up at my parents and they’re smiling like it isn’t a surprise.

“You knew?” I ask incredulously, but I already know the answer.

“We always knew she was going to leave it to you, Nick. She amended her will years ago. That she’s doing it now, we also knew, but she wanted to be the one to surprise you.”

“I’m surprised alright.”

“Well,” sniffs Gran. “So far, he hasn’t said yes.”

I look at my gran and her expectant face, the smiling faces of my parents, and then to Darcy, my beautiful Darcy. The thought of living alone with him and not having to share a space, fills me with a deep joy . . . and something else. But this is not the time or place to allow my horny ass to follow that route, so I look back at Gran, seeing from the look on her face that she knew what I was thinking. I almost blush myself, but instead, I give one of her wolfish grins back at her.

“Yes. Thank you.” It seems an inadequate thing to say, but I can’t think of what else, so I repeat it. “Thank you so much, Gran.”

“I knew you’d see sense, with a little help from your man, of course.” She tilts her head to Darcy, and when I knee bump him under the table, he bumps me back. She produces a pen. “Now, if you’ll just sign the papers, I can give them back to the solicitors.”

I dutifully sign them and hand them back over to her. I lean over and kiss her on the cheek and whisper, “Thank you, Gran. I mean it when I say you’ve made my year.”

“Oh, I can’t take the credit for all of that. I think it’s mostly due to Darcy.”

She’s not wrong, and I turn to him to tell him that. He’s looking over at the door. His face is ashen, all traces of the pretty pink shade obliterated. I follow his line of sight and see a figure framed in the doorway. His dad.

Icy dread plays her fingers along my bones when I see Dad in the doorway. It takes a couple of breaths to realise that the reaction isn’t to him, but to the expectation that Mum would appear next to him. So far she hasn’t and curiosity gets the better of me. I rise and walk over to him. A few seconds later Nick is by my side, his warm hand on my back helping to dispel the chill still keeping her hold on me. Claire appears on the other side, my protectors flanking me. I’m grateful to them. I’m tense and worried, but I don’t make a move. He’s come here for a reason and I’m not going to make it easy for him.

“Hello son,” he states simply. I can’t stand it any longer. I need to know.

“Where is she?” I demand, looking round my dad, expecting her to show up.

“Your mother?” My dad’s shoulders sag a little. I notice he looks older and worry lines crease his face. “Probably somewhere in the middle of the ocean by now.”

“What?” I don’t understand.

“She wanted to go on a cruise, follow her hero, Bruce de Silva. He’d told of it when we met him in London. She seemed happy, and I agreed to it, but . . .” He looks around, noticing how many people there are about. “Can we go somewhere a bit quieter?”

Nick leads the way into the kitchen, which is currently unoccupied. I’m sure someone will be in to fill another teapot soon, but for now we have it to ourselves. When the door closes behind us, my dad starts speaking again.

“I’m sorry.” He looks between Claire and me. “To both of you, but especially you, Darcy. I shouldn’t have allowed her to behave like that towards you. When it came time for us to get on the cruise ship, I realised I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sit there night after night listening to her prattle on about her achievements at raising her children.”

I hear Claire’s small gasp beside me. My dad must have heard it too, as he turns to Claire. “She told everyone you were a high-powered marketing executive and how she’d encouraged and helped you to get there.”

“Whaaa—” Claire screeches and then stops, letting out a huge puff of air. She speaks again, this time her voice quieter, but full of venom. “She never once encouraged me. She barely acknowledged what I did, and she certainly never told me she was proud of me. I did everything despite her!”

“When we were standing on the quayside, I couldn’t do it. I knew that if I stepped foot on that ship I’d be condoning her behaviour—which I’ve done too much of already—and I knew that I’d blow any chances I might have of reconciliation with my children, and that seemed the most important thing to me. It is the most important thing to me now.”

No one speaks at his words, as all of us are locked in our own thoughts about what he’s saying. My head is a jumble, then he continues.

“So I made her choose.” He gives a small, sad shrug. “I said that I wanted to see my children, to have the chance to make it up to them and, if they’d let me, be a part of their future. I said that if she wanted that too, then she could come with me, but if she didn’t, then she could get on the ship—but to not come looking for me when she got back.”

It’s my turn to gasp, but I think we’re all stunned into silence.

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