SUMMER'S END

36

Nicki rang the bell to her parents’ house. She hadn’t called beforehand and they didn’t know she was in town. She’d come to London for Robyn and no one else, but she could hardly ignore them after advising Robyn on how to handle her own family: with respect, no matter what. Something Nicki had failed to do miserably over the past five years. As the door slowly creaked open, Nicki wondered how many more times on this trip she’d have to say, “Surprise.”
Nearing seventy, her dad still stood regal. His hair had all but gone snow white and it curled to the side of his scalp in long, unkempt wisps, making him look every bit the distracted professor he was.
“Darling, is that you?” He blinked his eyelids open and shut a few times. “Well, do come in.” Never one to indulge in very tactile relationships with his children, he curled an arm around Nicki’s shoulder and gave her a firm squeeze. The gesture moved her much more than she had anticipated.
“Your mother is out, playing bridge at Ginny’s like every Wednesday afternoon, but I’ll put the kettle on.” He looked a bit out of sorts. No wonder.
“I’ll do it, dad. You sit down.” Nicki nodded at her father and headed towards the kitchen. No matter how long she went away, some things never changed. The cupboards had been redone and the fixtures refitted, but it was still the kitchen of her childhood, with the same layout and the same gold-plated frames on the wall. Waiting for the water to boil gave Nicki a few minutes to adjust to her surroundings. She had so many memories in this house, good ones and bad ones. The first time she’d brought Ingrid over for supper. The way she had to drag Ingrid away from never-ending discussions with her father about some sociological phenomenon that, quite frankly, Nicki couldn’t even feign interest in. The day she had to tell them what had happened. The time she’d left, soon after, rushing in and quickly out again, for good—she believed. “How are you, dad?” Nicki handed him a steaming mug of tea.
“Still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’re standing in front of me.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Your mother will be in a right state when—”
“I’m coming back, dad.” Nicki quickly swallowed away the tears bunching in her throat. “I’m ready.”
“You are?” He hid his face behind the mug, but Nicki spotted the tiny drop of moisture forming in the corner of his right eye.
“I’m selling the house in Samui and I…” Nicki hesitated. “I’m coming home.”
London had ceased to feel like home the day Ingrid had died. It had instantly turned into a cold, grey, unforgiving place, no matter how many friends and relatives remained, worried and cared about
her. “That’s truly wonderful news, darling.” Her father could regale an auditorium full of students for an hour on end without failing to grasp their unflinching attention, but when it came to matters closer to the heart, he never had found a way of expressing how he felt with words.
“I met someone and I—I think she needs me here.” Nicki had never actively looked for a reason to return, had avoided that altogether really, but now, after seeing the dazzling glint in Robyn’s eyes when they stood face to face again, it seemed like the most logical course of action ever.
“Your mother will be thrilled. You—you must invite her to supper soon. We’d love to meet… her.” Nicki couldn’t remember ever having witnessed her father’s cheeks redden with pure emotion.
“I will, dad, soon.”
“Your mother’s bringing back a roast chicken from Sainsbury’s. You will stay for dinner, won’t you?”
Nicki looked at the man in front of her, kindness flooding her veins. She watched how he battled with bottled-up emotions and she knew she hadn’t inherited that particular trait from a stranger. She
knew her father understood. “Of course.”
She’d made a deal with Robyn earlier that day. They’d both go home and share some important news. Robyn believed that Nicki’s news was simply that she’d come to town unexpectedly. She had no idea that Nicki had made a decision that would change both of their lives.