Lucy’s first flat was full of excitement and cardboard boxes and dirty mugs in the sink. Her father had been reluctant to let her go but even he had to admit (with Gran pulling his fingers back until he yelped) that independence was a sign of maturity.
They’d compromised. Gran had put feelers out for a flat for her to rent that was local enough that Lucy could drop in for a chat but far enough away from her farther and aunts that she didn’t feel stifled. As luck would have it, the top floor of a house in Bobbin Mill Lane was up for rent at a reasonable rate – just within the budget of a seventeen year old girl with her first job in Channel Fashion. Utilities included, too.
Harold finished unloading the van, took a look at the small mountain of cardboard boxes and offered to help her decorate. “No dad,” Lucy said. “This is my flat and I’ll do it myself.” He gave her a hug, pressing a twenty pound note in her hand. “Get yourself some chips,” he said.
Gran had offered advice. “Get your bedroom sorted out,” she said. “You can ignore the rest so long as you’ve got a tidy haven.” She’d left as well, shooing Felicia and Julie out in front of her. The downstairs door slammed and Lucy was alone at last, free to decorate her new flat however she pleased.
But how could she decorate silence?
Even Harold shed a tear.