After You by Jojo Moyes Read Free Book Online

reassure me that I could be fine here. It would be all right. There might be no great adventures, sure, and a bit of discomfort as people adjusted to my presence again, but there were worse things, right, than to be with your family, loved and secure? Safe?
    I looked down at the pile of newspapers in front of me. The most recent front-page headline read:
ROW OVER DISABLED PARKING SPACE IN FRONT OF POST OFFICE
    I thought back to Dad, sitting on my hospital bed, looking in vain for a report of an extraordinary accident.
    I failed you, Will. I failed you in every way possible.
    You could hear the shouting all the way up the street when I finally arrived home. As I opened the door my ears were filled with the sound of Thomas wailing. My sister was scolding him, her finger wagging, in the corner of the living room. Mum was leaning over Granddad with a washing-up bowl of water and a scouring pad, while Granddad politely batted her away.
    ‘What’s going on?’
    Mum moved to the side and I saw Granddad’s face clearly for the first time. He was sporting a new set of jet black eyebrows and a thick black slightly uneven moustache.
    ‘Permanent pen,’ said Mum. ‘From now on nobody is to leave Granddad napping in the same room as Thomas.’
    ‘You have to stop drawing on things,’ Treena was yelling. ‘Paper only, okay? Not walls. Not faces. Not Mrs Reynolds’s dog. Not my pants.’
    ‘I was doing you days of the week!’
    ‘I don’t need days-of-the-week pants!’ she shouted. ‘And if I did I would spell Wednesday correctly!’
    ‘Don’t scold him, Treen,’ said Mum, leaning back to see if she’d had any effect. ‘It could be a lot worse.’
    In our little house, Dad’s footsteps coming down the stairs sounded like a particularly emphatic roll of thunder. He barrelled into the front room, his shoulders hunched in frustration, his hair standing up on one side. ‘Can’t a man get a nap in his own house on his day off? This place is like a ruddy madhouse.’
    We all stopped and stared at him.
    ‘What? What did I say?’
    ‘Bernard –’
    ‘Ah, come on. Our Lou doesn’t think I mean
her
–’
    ‘Oh, my sweet Lord.’ Mum’s hand flew to her face.
    My sister had started to push Thomas out of the room. ‘Oh, boy,’ she hissed. ‘Thomas, you’d better get out of here right now. Because I swear when your grandpa gets hold of you –’
    ‘What?’ Dad frowned. ‘What’s the matter?’
    Granddad barked a laugh. He held up a shaking finger.
    It was almost magnificent. Thomas had coloured in the whole of Dad’s face with blue marker pen. His eyes emerged like two gooseberries from a sea of cobalt blue. ‘What?’
    Thomas’s voice, as he disappeared down the corridor, was a wail of protest. ‘We were watching
Avatar
! He said he wouldn’t mind being an avatar!’
    Dad’s eyes widened. He strode to the mirror over the mantelpiece.
    There was a brief silence. ‘Oh, my God.’
    ‘Bernard, don’t take the Lord’s name in vain.’
    ‘He’s turned me bloody blue, Josie. I think I’m entitled to take the Lord’s name to Butlins in a flipping wheelbarrow. Is this permanent pen? THOMMO? IS THIS PERMANENT PEN?’
    ‘We’ll get it off, Dad.’ My sister closed the door to the garden behind her. Beyond it you could just make out Thomas’s wailing.
    ‘I’m meant to be overseeing the new fencing at the castle tomorrow. I have contractors coming. How the hell am I meant to deal with contractors if I’m
blue
?’ Dad spat on his hand and started to rub at his face. The faintest smudging appeared, but mostly seemed to spread onto his palm. ‘It’s not coming off. Josie,
it’s not coming off
!’
    Mum shifted her attention from Granddad and set about Dad with the scouring pad. ‘Just stay still, Bernard. I’m doing what I can.’
    Treena went for her laptop bag. ‘I’ll go on the internet. I’m sure there’s something. Toothpaste or nail-polish remover or bleach or –’
    ‘You are not putting