Daddy’s Boy. Casey Watson

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      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Chapter 1

       Chapter 2

       Chapter 3

       Chapter 4

       Chapter 5

       Chapter 6

       Chapter 7

       Epilogue

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       About the Publisher

Chapter 1

      Mike groaned as he heaved our bulging suitcase from one of the carousels in baggage reclaim at our local airport. ‘Back to grim reality,’ he moaned. ‘Goodbye sunshine, hello grey British skies.’

      ‘Oh, stop being so melodramatic, love,’ I said, laughing, shaking my head at his hangdog expression. ‘It’s not even June yet. We still have the whole summer to look forward to! Just be grateful we’ve been able to have this little break.’

      I took the laptop bag from him while he tried to guide the misbehaving case through the ‘Nothing to Declare’ area without looking shifty. Personally, I did feel grateful – enormously so – for our impromptu mini-break in Minorca, which had been a last-minute bargain, courtesy of my mum and dad, who’d just sold their caravan and treated us as a surprise.

      ‘It’s all right for you,’ Mike grumbled. ‘There’s Tyler off to another footie camp, and you’ll be doing fun stuff with the grandkids … And there I’ll be, as bloody per, nose to the grindstone at work, while you guys have all the excitement.’

      I grinned as we emerged into arrivals. I knew he was only trying to wind me up. Though he was right, of course. Tyler was off to his football camp – his second one this year, in fact. He was becoming quite the little footballing superstar. Or, as he put it, the ‘next Gareth Bale’, whoever he was.

      And, no, I didn’t have any ‘proper’ job to go back to, not in that sense, because my job was being a foster carer (and Mike’s second job as well, if we were going to split hairs), so there were times when I was between jobs, and this was one such.

      I knew it wouldn’t be for long – it never was – but he was wrong about the ‘excitement’ part. Yes, it was true. I had time to indulge the grandkids. We had four now, all living close by (my daughter Riley’s three, plus son Kieron and his girlfriend’s brand new baby daughter, Dee Dee), so there was never a dull moment in that regard. But much as I loved being a nana, there was always a part of me that didn’t feel quite right when I wasn’t fostering. Yes, I could keep myself busy, and time with grandkids was always to be cherished – but I was still only 49 and when I didn’t have a foster kid in, I very quickly felt very old and very useless.

      And ‘having a foster child’ no longer included Tyler. Yes, that was what he was, officially, because that’s how he had come to us, but it no longer felt like that – couldn’t feel less like that, in fact – because, for one thing, we were committed to care for him permanently now and, for another, it just didn’t. He felt like ours.

      And, as Mike had pointed out, he’d be off on Monday morning СКАЧАТЬ