No Place Like Home by Jane Renshaw (the best electronic book reader .TXT) 📗
- Author: Jane Renshaw
Book online «No Place Like Home by Jane Renshaw (the best electronic book reader .TXT) 📗». Author Jane Renshaw
If he was going to defend his family, maybe it was time to lose the rose-tinted spectacles.
10
‘Look,’ said Kirsty. ‘I know it’s not ideal, but we have to try to retain some sort of feeling of normality, don’t we? The kids have been looking forward to the housewarming for weeks. The Millers are coming, and you know how desperate Phoebe is to see Lily, Rhona and Katie. It’s not as if we can have a sleepover at the moment – four little girls in the house and no running water? And Phoebe’s night terrors would infect the lot of them. Can you imagine the hysterics? They’d never get to sleep.’
Bram and Kirsty were sitting at the kitchen table, sharing a bottle of water. It was weird how knowing there was a limited supply of the stuff made you thirsty. This was Bram’s second bottle and it wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning.
The morning of the bloody housewarming party, which Kirsty was determined to go ahead with.
He grimaced. ‘It’s going to be a challenge, though, isn’t it, throwing a party with no water?’
‘We’ve got plenty of bottled stuff, and lots of soft drinks as well as the alcohol. We can fill up the cisterns of each of the loos, and tell people not to flush unless strictly necessary. And we can line up buckets of water for refills, and for pouring into the sink for washing hands.’
‘I guess. But with some nutter running around out there determined to terrorise us, does it really make sense to throw open our doors to all and sundry?’
There had been nothing on the cameras, which wasn’t too surprising given that the intruder had probably approached the house via the track, not the woods. The camera sited where one of the paths through the wood met the track had been pointing the wrong way.
‘I think it does.’ Kirsty took a gulp from the bottle of water. ‘It’s not as if we’re going to be in any danger, with a house full of people. And we need to try to get the locals onside. What better way than to welcome them into our home?’
Bram flashed on an image of the pig’s heart, dumped in the middle of the risotto pan. ‘I’m not sure how welcoming I’m going to manage to be. And as for the concept of a housewarming…’ He grimaced. ‘It just seems so inappropriate. The intruder – all the stuff that’s been going on – it’s like it’s taken away the feeling of home altogether. He’s taken it from us. Your home should be your sanctuary, where you feel safest.’
‘Bram–’
‘I’m starting to wonder if maybe your dad is right. The softly-softly approach with these people… How’s that ever going to work? That notice we put up was pathetic – effectively apologising for asking the yobs to behave like decent human beings. We might as well have laid out the red carpet and asked them to trample all over us.’
‘No, Bram. Dad isn’t right. Of course he isn’t!’
‘Yeah, we look down our noses at him, don’t we? We think we’re so much better than him? But if David had been there last night, he’d have been on that bastard like a Rottweiler.’
‘Bram–’
‘And I’m the better person?’
‘Of course you are! Where do I even start?’ She reached across the table and took his hand. ‘And if it had come to it, you’d have done anything necessary to protect the kids.’
‘Would I, though? Would I have been able to protect them? In their own home?’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. I’m probably overreacting.’
She smiled. ‘Of course you are. You’ve always wanted to… to wrap the people you love up in a safe place, haven’t you?’
‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘Oh, Bram, nothing, it’s lovely!’ The smile widened. ‘Remember when we were deciding where to go on honeymoon, and I was suggesting all these exotic places, but I could tell you weren’t keen, and then you said it might be nice to visit your grandparents in Amsterdam?’
Bram could feel himself blushing. ‘Yeah. Sorry…’
That’s what they had ended up doing, too, although Kirsty had seemed to enjoy herself, and Bram liked to think the success of the honeymoon had partly been down to the warmth with which his grandparents had welcomed them, the love in which they had been enveloped by all his Amsterdam relations during that wonderful week. Honeymoons were meant to be all about love, after all, weren’t they?
Kirsty chuckled. ‘It was so Bram! It was adorable! If you had your way you’d gather us all up together in a big castle, all our family and friends, and never let any of us out into the big bad world!’
He grinned. ‘Yeah, that would be my dream scenario.’
‘I know it was a horrible experience, but – it’s still our home, Bram, and we still love it, don’t we? Having a nice party will go some way to… to reclaiming it for ourselves, don’t you think?’
‘You’re right. You’re absolutely right.’ She could always make him feel better. ‘Let’s do it.’
He dipped the pail into the stream, trying not to think about all the microscopic creatures he was scooping up that were destined to be flushed down a loo. He’d already filled up the cisterns in the downstairs toilet, the family bathroom and his and Kirsty’s en suite. Now he was doing the refills.
He lugged the full pails across the grass towards the house, trying not to slop the water out of them too much. When he reached Henrietta the goose, he set the pails down and rubbed his hands where the handles had dug into the flesh, and patted Henrietta’s smooth white head.
‘Well, Henny. What do you think of your new home?’
When Bram was eight years old, his walk to and from school had taken him past a beautiful wooden goose on the flagstone area outside a little house.
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