The Third Bus by Bobbie Darbyshire

Author:Bobbie Darbyshire [Darbyshire, Bobbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cinnamon Press
Published: 2023-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

Sunday

17

The chatter and laughter around Cordelia’s table, the good food and relaxing beer, were only temporary comforts. At the back of his mind, his anxiety took root and grew, making him doubt his own wisdom and decency. The text Trevor sent before driving away didn’t help. In block capitals, FELIX, YOU’RE BEING A FOOL TO YOURSELF. YOU WILL ONLY REGRET THIS.

Through a night of tormented dreams he became desperate to find Laura, to speak to her before her heart hardened, but each time he came close, something intervened or snatched her away. He had her tantalisingly in sight when light blinded him and Ben towered above him. ‘I’m saying goodbye, Dad, or do you want to see us off at the station?’

‘What time is it?’

‘Eight-thirty.’

Blearily he scrambled himself into jeans and sweater and, half-dreaming of Laura, caught the bus with them along the now familiar route—into the city centre, up around the grassy hill with the castle on top, then through a cloud of white cherry-blossom down along Prince of Wales Road, where today the nightclubs were shuttered and the pavements were clean, then out across the river-bridge to the station.

Big hug. ‘Keep in touch, son.’

‘Sure thing.’

A soft kiss on his cheek from Sadie. ‘You must come and visit us, Felix.’

‘Thank you, I will, and I promise I won’t do a Trevor.’

Another bear hug from Ben. ‘Love you, Dad. Don’t leave it too long.’

‘I won’t. Stay happy. I love you too.’

Watching them walk away, arms entwined, in their travel-worn clothes, a sob rose in his throat and tears spilled from his eyes. His son loved him and accepted his choice to leave Cath. Without that, he didn’t know if he could summon the strength to persist. He glanced self-consciously around at the people coming and going, but no one pays mind to a stranger’s grief at a station. Ben turned to wave back at him. He watched until the train carried them off. Then he blew his nose, gathered himself, and there on the concourse dialled Laura, unsure what to say, what to expect from her, horribly afraid he might lose her.

‘Hello, Dad.’ Her tone was weary and flat.

‘Laura, sweetheart, are you angry with me? I hope Trevor got home okay. I said things to him I regret, things I didn’t mean.’

‘That Mum and I should have come?’

‘No, love! Instead of Trevor, was all I meant. I was angry with him, not with you, but I shouldn’t have been angry at all. I love you, you mustn’t doubt that, you and Ben both, and Ollie and Em.’ He petered out, staring numbly around at the station’s white paving and blue-painted iron pillars, making himself wait through a silence that felt interminable.

‘I don’t feel I know you, is all,’ Laura said finally.

‘Sweetheart, I’m the same. I’m your dad, just as I’ve always been.’

‘But you’re not, are you?’

The question blindsided him. She was right, he was changing—into what, he wasn’t sure. Was that a bad thing? He wanted to tell her this, ask her this, but she spoke first.

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