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A Family Holiday: A heartwarming summer romance for fans of Katie Fforde
A Family Holiday: A heartwarming summer romance for fans of Katie Fforde
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A Family Holiday: A heartwarming summer romance for fans of Katie Fforde

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‘Can I come in?’ asked Felix with a shudder. What was wrong with him? It was summer, for goodness sake!

‘I think there’s lots to discuss before we spring a long-lost relative on the children.’ Especially one with a record for running off, she thought.

‘Look, I can come back later,’ suggested Felix with a shrug.

‘Fine by me,’ said Charlie quickly.

‘But I thought it might be best the sooner we all talked. Seriously, can I come inside please?’

‘No,’ said Charlie, ‘not until I know what you’re planning to say to them. It’s me who’ll have to deal with the fallout!’ She tightened her folded arms.

‘There are no definite plans as yet, that’s why I thought a chat might be a good idea.’

Charlie heard a faint noise coming from the stairs and she knew one of the children was listening, which in reality meant that they would all know about Uncle Felix within the next few moments anyway. Charlie took a slow, deep breath and tried to calm herself. She needed to have her wits about her.

‘Okay, let’s get this over with.’ She stood back and ushered an apologetic-looking Felix into the hall and through to the living room.

‘Guys, can you come down, please,’ she called and immediately George appeared, closely followed by Eleanor, who was carrying Wriggly. So that was who was listening. George was eager to get into the living room and take a look at his uncle and Eleanor followed behind with her pale face buried in Wriggly’s coat. He was living up to his name and she was struggling to keep hold of him.

Charlie tried to remove Millie’s mask as she marched into the living room but she was not giving it up willingly so Charlie relented. Felix sat down in Toby’s spot on the sofa and Charlie and the children all stood and stared at him as he now removed his cap to reveal a mass of unruly blonde hair and the full might of the Cobley blue eyes. He was by no means his brother’s double; he was younger and more olive-skinned, but the obvious likeness was uncanny and more than a little creepy as he sat in Toby’s place. Millie shuffled a little closer to Charlie and leaned into her leg, even she could sense something.

Felix self-consciously brushed back his hair with his fingers and tried to look anywhere except at the many eyes trained on him.

‘You might want to sit over here,’ suggested Charlie gently as she gestured for Felix to move to the opposite sofa.

‘No, I’m fine. Thanks.’

Charlie gave him a look that communicated that staying seated where he was was not an option. Felix looked around him in bemusement. ‘What?’

‘Please move,’ said Charlie. He sighed but did as he was asked and looked further confused when nobody took the place he had vacated. Millie decided to sit on the rug at Charlie’s feet.

Charlie gave a forced smile. ‘This is…’

‘You’re Uncle Felix, aren’t you?’ blurted out George and Millie responded with a dramatic gasp and covered Darth Vader’s mouth with her hand. It was one of her favourite things to do at the moment and for once her timing was spot on.

‘Why are you here exactly?’ asked Ted, leaning forward, his shoulders hunched and his hands clasped tightly together in front of him.

‘Well, the solicitor thought we should meet up and…’

‘Not because you wanted to see how we were,’ stated Ted coldly, as his knuckles turned white.

‘Of course I did.’ Felix looked uncomfortable. ‘You’ve changed since I last saw you, Teddy,’ said Felix.

‘It’s Ted. And yeah that tends to happen when you sod off for years. Things change, Felix.’ He emphasised the name before slumping back into his seat.

‘Look I don’t have all the answers and I’m not here to cause trouble.’ Felix rested his hands on his knees as if trying to keep them still.

Millie climbed up onto Charlie’s lap and turned her back on the room. Charlie removed the Darth Vader mask.

‘Why did you run off?’ asked George.

Felix ran his hand through his hair, ‘It’s complicated, mate. You’d not really understand.’

‘You could at least try to explain,’ said Charlie, locking eyes with Felix and she saw a flash of something – anger, irritation? She wasn’t sure.

Felix swallowed hard. ‘Our father died and it was difficult…’

‘Yes, we know how that feels,’ said Eleanor in a soft and genuinely sympathetic voice.

‘I’m so sorry, of course you do…’ Felix looked suitably chastened.

‘Did you kill him?’ asked George, his interest piqued.

‘Err, no. Of course not.’ Felix was frowning and shaking his head but there was something about his expression that worried Charlie. His words said one thing but his face said another.

‘Why didn’t you come to the funeral?’ Ted asked belligerently.

Felix went pale. ‘Your dad and I… didn’t keep in touch. I suppose it took the solicitors a while to find me and by then I’d missed it. I’m… so sorry.’

There was an uneasy silence before Felix spoke again. ‘I’m seeing Ruth later about the guardianship and the trust fund.’

Ted snorted and shook his head. ‘You know the money comes with strings attached and we’re those strings,’ he said, pointing at himself and the other children.

‘Perhaps this was a bad idea,’ said Felix, looking decidedly awkward.

Charlie raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

‘I am truly sorry about your mum and dad. I loved them too.’ He stood and left the room and Charlie felt she should see him out, so she shifted Millie off her lap and followed him.

‘Here, call first if you want to come again. It’s best they’re forewarned, okay?’ said Charlie, handing him the phone number she’d quickly scribbled on the back of an old envelope.

He nodded, turned up his collar and stepped out into a mild summery London.

Felix raced into the small coffee shop and immediately spotted a vaguely familiar woman, who was staring unblinking at the door.

‘Hello Ruth,’ said Felix, reaching forward to air-kiss her. ‘Really sorry I’m late, I was…’

Ruth recoiled. ‘Yes, well, I still need to be in a meeting at three o’clock, which means we only have thirteen minutes.’

Felix looked longingly at the conga-line queue for coffee and Ruth blinked hard. Felix’s shoulders sagged as he accepted his disappointment and sat down opposite her.

‘I’m truly sorry about your sister. Helen was such a genuinely lovely person, I remember when…’

‘Thank you,’ cut in Ruth, glancing at her watch, ‘I’ll keep this brief. The lawyers are going to keep burning money the longer they debate how we split the guardian role. I’ve spoken to Social Services and they would prefer us to work this out for ourselves and then they’ll review the candidate. I am very happy to take on that responsibility.’

Felix slumped back into his chair and clapped his hands. ‘That is great news. Thank you. The solicitor I spoke to implied you didn’t want to look after the kids but kind of made it clear that one of us had to. So that is a huge relief.’

Ruth scowled, ‘The responsibility of guardian enables me to ensure they have a financially secure future and appoint a childcare professional to administer their care. And let’s be clear, I do not mean the current incumbent.’

Felix looked like he’d just been beaten at Scrabble. ‘What?’

‘Their current nanny will be leaving as soon as I can find a replacement. She isn’t qualified and the children are out of control. She is some stray that my sister took in. I queried it with Helen at the time. I told her she should do proper checks, but Helen was always too soft and naive.’ Ruth’s voice caught in her throat. ‘Anyway, I’ve done some investigating of my own and she’s not fit to care for those children but I’m sure she’s already looking for another job, so we’ll soon be rid of her.’ Ruth checked her watch again and moved her handbag onto her lap. ‘If you could inform the solicitor that you concur, I will notify Social Services of the agreed approach, and we should be able to get things wrapped up quite quickly.’ Ruth stood to leave.

‘Hang on, hang on,’ said Felix, waving her to sit down again. ‘Let’s get this straight. You will be their guardian, and you’ll administer the trust fund. There will be a new nanny…’

‘A qualified nanny,’ interjected Ruth.

‘Yep, to do washing, cleaning and day-to-day stuff. But what’s missing is who is actually looking after them?’

Ruth pursed her lips. ‘A full-time nanny will be there to care for them, they’ll be fine. We could, of course, consider boarding school for the older children,’ said Ruth, with almost a smile. ‘I need to leave.’

‘Yeah, of course. Sorry I was late but I think we need more time to work something else out. I really don’t think Helen and Tobes would have wanted their kids to be left to manage by themselves like this, and certainly not just packed off to boarding school.’

Ruth stood up. ‘Very well, I’ll check my diary so we can discuss this further, but I assure you they’ll be fine. Children are very resilient. Good bye.’

Chapter Three (#uda8c3c5e-4c6d-5ead-b03c-70ee439488ff)

Millie took a big breath for another rendition of the chorus. ‘All the birds of the air, fell a-sighing and a-sobbing, when they heard of the death of poor Cock Robin…’

‘Stop it!’ shouted Eleanor at close range before almost knocking over the high chair as she ran past. Eleanor’s temper had turned to tears before she’d reached the top of the stairs.

‘I’ll go,’ said Charlie, giving the others a wan smile.

‘Silly Billy,’ giggled Millie, thankfully oblivious to the impact of the upsetting faux pas before continuing with what she remembered of the old rhyme.

Eleanor lay face down on her bed, her small body shaking with the force of her sobs, her butterfly duvet muffling the pain. Wriggly sat on the pillow, looking worried and helpless, as he tilted his head from side to side and whimpered. Charlie got on the bed next to Eleanor, wrapped her arms around her and rocked her gently until the sobs turned to sniffles.

‘Mum and Dad…’ started Eleanor, but the noisy sobs returned and Charlie cradled her again until she could control them. At last they both sat up and Eleanor clung to Charlie, as she had done yesterday and the day before.

‘I know,’ said Charlie, ‘it’s total rubbish.’ She pushed a strand of damp hair off the eight-year-old’s face. Wriggly came to sit on Charlie’s lap and tried to lick Eleanor’s tears. A tiny smile appeared fleetingly on Eleanor’s lips.

‘That stupid song,’ grumbled Eleanor.

‘Granddad Roger taught it to her. She doesn’t know what it’s about, though.’

‘I know. Even Millie is being braver than me,’ said Eleanor, wiping her eyes with the tissue that was now permanently in her pocket.

Millie had been deeply affected by the emotions in the house and had cried constantly for the first few days after the accident. She had then moved onto calling out ‘My Mummy and My Daddy!’ and searching the house for them as if playing some twisted game of hide and seek. Thankfully, after repeated attempts by Charlie to explain that Mummy and Daddy had gone to Heaven, where they could see her but she couldn’t see them, she had calmed down a little and mercifully had now stopped looking for them and was very nearly back to her usual cheeky self.

‘You don’t have to be brave, Elle. It’s different for Millie; she’s only three. She won’t fully understand everything until she’s bigger. As long as Millie has food, drink and her Winnie the Pooh her basic needs are met. For the rest of you it’s a lot more complicated. You need to get through this however you can.’

‘I feel sad all the time and I cry… all the time,’ said Eleanor, looking wretched.

‘I know, sweetie, and that’s completely normal. Someone once told me that grief is like any wound, it needs time to heal. Thing is, it’s not a scab on your knee, so you can’t see how it’s getting on.’

‘It won’t get better though, will it? Mum and Dad are never coming back. We’ll never be a happy family again.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I know we argue sometimes but we did used to be happy.’ Eleanor pulled Wriggly onto her lap and he wagged his tail excitedly.

‘We did,’ nodded Charlie. ‘It will take time, lots of tears and lots of cuddles but I promise you you’ll get back to being happy. It’ll just be a different kind of happy,’ she said but Eleanor didn’t look convinced. ‘When you’re ready, come and get some food. Okay?’

The last couple of months had been a blur and too awful to put into words. They had all been suffering. It was probably Eleanor who worried Charlie the most as she had gone into her shell and spent all her time with Wriggly, barely speaking to anyone and surviving almost entirely on milkshakes.

The accident had hit Charlie hard too. She had learnt so much from the Cobleys. She’d learnt that if there was ever a cement shortage Weetabix was a viable substitute, having tried to remove it from a myriad surfaces, including her own hair. She’d learnt that you never leave a baby to play innocently with a thread in a Berber carpet, as it soon becomes a four-foot-long bald strip. She’d learnt to change a nappy at record speed, to avoid the horror of a poo-covered bottom rolling across a vanilla-coloured wool rug. But, most importantly, she’d learnt that whatever happens, you stick together as a family.

Charlie struggled to believe it herself, that Helen and Toby Cobley were both dead. When she heard a car stop outside she still occasionally had a quick look to check it wasn’t them. How quickly their world had been changed. A simple car accident on a wet motorway had become a multiple-car pile up, with the Cobley’s car somewhere in the middle.

Charlie’s immediate fear had been that the children would be taken into the care of Social Services. That fear still hung over her and it would do until the question of guardianship had been resolved. She knew too well what it was like to be a child in the care system and she was desperate for the Cobley children to avoid this fate.

Charlie joined the others at the table, where Millie was using her carrot sticks to beat out an interesting rhythm.

Ted put his cutlery down when she approached. ‘Is she okay?’ he asked, but before Charlie could get a reply out George threw his cutlery down hard onto the table, making Millie jump.

‘Of course she’s not bloody well okay!’ George shouted at his brother. ‘She’s never going to be okay. None of us are. What made you suddenly care?’

‘Come on, George, don’t be an arse,’ said Ted as he went to give George a friendly nudge.

‘Don’t shove me! You’re not in charge,’ yelled George, scraping his chair across the floor as he stood up sharply. George stood over Ted with his fists clenched.

‘Hey, calm down. I’m not trying to be in charge. Nobody is in charge any more.’

‘You think you’re the man of the house now. But you’re not!’

‘Technically, I think I am,’ said Ted, standing up and towering over George, ‘but I’m not going to fight with you.’ However, it seemed George had other ideas and launched himself at Ted, pummelling his torso with his fists. Charlie leapt forward but Ted raised a hand to stop her. Instead of hitting back or even defending himself, Ted pulled George to him, enveloped him in a hug and took the blows until George wore himself out. The happy-go-lucky George was missing and an angry boy was in his place, ready to shout and argue with anyone, about anything. Charlie sorely hoped this was a temporary phase of the grieving process.

Charlie looked at Ted, and right at that moment she was immensely proud of him. He’d been up and down emotionally himself, but it was clear he was trying to hold it together for the younger ones. George clung onto Ted until the worst of the crying had left him and then he pushed him harshly away and stormed off. Charlie listened and was pleased to hear his bedroom door slam; at least it wasn’t the front door.

‘Naughty step! Naughty step!’ chanted Millie happily, waving a carrot stick in time.

As Charlie was clearing away the lunch things in an empty kitchen the doorbell rang. Whilst Charlie loved the house, a stuccoed townhouse in the heart of Pimlico, the fact that it was split over five floors could be a pain sometimes. She sprinted up the steps from the kitchen, taking a towel with her to dry her hands. They had a state-of-the-art dishwasher but recently she’d taken to washing up, as she’d found if she kept herself busy it made things a fraction easier.

She opened the door to the hunched figure of Felix, his jacket collar turned up and his hands thrust into his jeans pockets.

‘Oh, it’s you.’

Felix rolled his lips in on themselves like a chimp. ‘Thought I should call round.’

‘A phone call first would have been good.’

‘I lost the number.’ He shrugged. ‘Last time didn’t go well. I thought I should try to get to know the kids a bit better.’

Charlie eyed him warily, stepped outside and pulled the door almost closed behind her.

‘Look, that’s all very well but if you’re planning on buggering off again at a moment’s notice it’s best you don’t bother in the first place.’ Charlie belatedly added a brief smile. ‘I’m really not trying to be unkind but…’

‘It’s not up to you, though, is it?’ said Felix, quickly zipping up his jacket as a light breeze dawdled down the overcast London street. ‘Can I come inside?’ He stepped towards the front door. He and Charlie were now stood very close to each other, he smelled soapy. Charlie held tight to the door. ‘I don’t know…’

‘Please,’ added Felix and Charlie let the door go. Maybe Charlie wasn’t the most tactful of people but she wanted him to understand that she was trying to protect the children.

Ted was sitting at the kitchen table spinning a coin repeatedly and staring at it intently. He picked it up and put it in his pocket as Charlie and Felix entered the room. Ted sat up straight, narrowed his eyes and stared at Felix.