Page 12 of Summer at the Cornish Garden Café

‘Oh… some moral tale or other.’ Bligh laughed. ‘I think this one was about listening carefully to others so you can avoid hurting their feelings.Inclusivity!That was it. It’s so clever how authors can write a children’s story and squeeze in some morals. I really enjoy reading with them. I actually learn too!’

Thomas laughed. ‘Education and fun for all the family.’

‘That’s so true.’ Bligh nodded. ‘The girls are doing really well with their literacy and are flying through the recommended reading list.’

‘They’re very clever.’ Thomas smiled. ‘Just like Marnie.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Bligh placed his hands on his hips and frowned. ‘Don’t I get a look in?’

‘Of course you do! I know they get their intelligence from both of you. I just meant that Marnie has always loved reading and that she’s super bright. Unlike me. It was all about sports when I was growing up.’

‘You’re just as intelligent as Marnie.’ Bligh placed the chopped carrots into a roasting dish then added a few knobs of butter, some freshly chopped herbs from the pots on the windowsill and a sprinkle of salt. ‘You shouldn’t put yourself down.’

‘At school, I didn’t care about anything other than sports and I neglected my lessons when I could get out of them. It was all about football.’

‘Football was your thing and that’s OK.’ Bligh put the dish of carrots into the oven then washed his hands.

‘But where does it leave me now?’ Thomas asked.

‘At a crossroads, I admit, but there are lots of things you could do.’ Bligh placed a hand on Thomas’ shoulder. ‘You just have to believe in yourself.’

‘I’ve looked and I can’t find anything I want to do or could do. I don’t have the skillset or the qualifications.’

‘Perhaps it’s time to retrain then. You’re still young, Thomas. Thirty-one is just starting out these days.’

‘Yeah I know. I have time.’ He smiled but his stomach churned. Since he’d lost the ability to play football, he’d felt useless, like his purpose had been stolen away from him. Football had been his identity. At school he’d ignored the teachers when they’d said he could well have a successful career in football, but qualifications were important because they’d always be there. If anything went wrong with his career as a footballer, then he’d have something to fall back on. He’d laughed at them, been a bit ignorant at times, especially when his English teacher had tried to reason with him. She’d been a kind woman who’d gently tried to encourage him to work towards his exams. He’d laughed and told her they were pointless because he didn’t want to be anything other than a professional footballer, so what was the point in reading Shakespeare or learning how to write a persuasive speech? Now, however, he knew she’d been right about the importance of qualifications, and that his other teachers had been too. ‘I do like animals,’ he said thoughtfully.

‘Why don’t you enquire about volunteering at the vet’s then, or at the local rescue sanctuary? It would be a starting point for you to explore your options,’ Bligh said. ‘I know it’s taken you a while since the accident to start properly thinking about this, but you’ve been recovering physically and mentally. The fact that you’re talking about what to do next must show that you’re ready now.’

‘You’re very wise, Bligh,’ Thomas said.

Bligh shrugged his massive shoulders and laughed. ‘Well, I am almost forty.’

‘Forty and fabulous!’ Thomas grinned. ‘I hope I grow up to be just like you.’

Bligh guffawed and pointed at Thomas. ‘Just behave yourself, young man.’

‘What are you laughing about?’ Winnie was standing in the kitchen doorway, looking from her dad to her uncle. Her dark hair was in bunches, and she looked very cute in a blue dress with tiny white roses printed on the material. With their dark hair and eyes, the twins were like mini copies of Marnie. Thomas wondered if the new baby would be the same or if it would take after Bligh more.

‘Your uncle was just teasing me about my age,’ Bligh said. ‘He said I’m an old man.’

‘You’re not old, Daddy.’ Winnie went to Bligh, and he picked her up. ‘Don’t say that to Daddy, Uncle Thomas. It’s rude to talk about how old people are. My teacher at school said so!’

‘Sorry.’ Thomas shook his head. ‘It won’t happen again.’

‘Uncle Thomas looks like a pirate,’ Winnie said quietly, and Bligh’s inhalation was audible.

‘That’s not very kind, Winnie,’ Bligh said.

Thomas though, snorted with laughter. ‘A pirate?’

‘We watched a cartoon and there was a pirate on it, and he had curly black hair, a limp and a scar on his face just like you.’

‘From out of the mouths of babes,’ Thomas said. ‘I guess I do look like a pirate out of a cartoon.’

‘But you’re not mean like he was,’ Winnie said. ‘You’re a lovely pirate.’

‘Thanks.’ Thomas smiled. ‘I would hate to be a mean pirate.’

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