need to, until you get yourself sorted out,’ Ma Brown called out from the passenger seat.
‘Thank you, Ma.’ Leaning forward, Callie gave Ma’s cheek a fond kiss. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’
‘You’d do more than all right,’ Ma Brown insisted firmly. ‘You’ve always been capable, and now you’re free to fly as high as your mother always intended. She used to dream about her baby and what that baby would do. It’s a tragic shame that she didn’t live to see you grow up.’
She’d soon find out what she could and couldn’t do, Callie thought as the Browns and their dogs piled out of the steamed-up van. She couldn’t stick around for long. She’d be a burden to the Browns. They had enough to do keeping their own heads above water. Once her father’s debts were paid, she’d go exploring. Maybe Blackpool. The air was bracing there. Blackpool was a traditional northern English seaside town with bags of personality, and plenty of boarding houses looking for cleaning staff. She’d research jobs there the first spare minute she got.
* * *
It would have been a grim task sorting through her father’s things the next morning, if it hadn’t been for the cheerful Browns. Ma checked every room, while Callie and Rosie sorted everything into piles for the charity shops, things that could possibly be sold, and those that were definitely going to the dump. The sale pile was disappointingly small. ‘I never realised how much rubbish we had before,’ Callie admitted.
‘Mean old bugger,’ Ma Brown commented. ‘He probably took it with him,’ she added with a sniff.
‘I doubt there was anything to find in the first place,’ Callie placated. She knew her father’s ways only too well when it came to money.
‘Nothing left after he’d been gambling and boozing, I expect,’ Ma Brown agreed, disapprovingly pursing her lips.
‘Well, that’s where you’re both wrong,’ Rosie exclaimed with triumph as she flourished a five-pound note. ‘Look what I’ve found!’
‘Well, our Callie!’ Ma Brown began to laugh as Rosie handed it over to her friend. ‘Riches indeed. What are you going to do with it?’
‘Nothing sensible, I hope,’ Rosie insisted as Callie stared at the grubby banknote in amazement. ‘It’s not even enough to buy a drink, let alone a decent meal.’
She would rather have her father back either way, Callie thought, which was strange after all the years of trying to win his love, and coming to accept that there was no love in him. ‘I’ll put it in the charity tin at the corner shop,’ she mused out loud.
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ Ma Brown insisted. ‘I’m taking charge of this,’ she said as she snatched the banknote out of Callie’s hand.
‘Think of it as an early Christmas present from your father,’ Rosie soothed when she saw Callie’s distress. ‘Ma will do something sensible with it.’
‘It would be the first gift he’d ever given her,’ Ma Brown grumbled. ‘And as for doing something sensible with it?’ She winked. ‘I’ve got other ideas.’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Callie said with a weak smile, hoping the subject would go away now.
Knowing her friend was upset beneath her humour, Rosie quickly changed the subject and it wasn’t spoken of again. The next Callie heard of their surprise find was at supper with the Browns. When the girls had finished clearing up, Ma Brown folded her arms and beamed, a sure sign of an announcement.
‘Now then, our Callie, before you say anything, we know you don’t gamble and we know why you don’t gamble, but just this once you’re going to take something from me, and say thank you and nothing else.’
Callie tensed when she saw the five-pound scratch card Ma Brown was holding out.
‘You’ll need something to scratch the card,’ Pa observed matter-of-factly as he dug in his pocket for some loose change.
‘Close your eyes and imagine where all that money’s going to take you,’ Rosie urged, glancing at the other Browns to will them to persuade Callie that this could be a good thing if she got lucky.
‘All what money?’ Callie had to smile when the Browns fell silent. Silence was such a rare occurrence in this household, she couldn’t let them down.
‘It’s time for a change of luck,’ Rosie pressed. ‘What have you got to lose?’
The Browns had been nothing but kind. The money she’d get from the scratch card would likely take her as far as the hearth to toss it in the fire when it proved a dud. ‘Close my eyes and imagine myself somewhere I’ve always dreamed of...’
‘Open your eyes and scratch the bloody card,’ Ma Brown insisted.
As everyone burst out laughing Callie sat down at the table and started scratching the surface of the card.
‘Well?’ Ma Brown prompted. ‘Don’t tease us. Tell us what you’ve got.’
‘Five. Thousand. Pounds.’
No one said a word. Seconds ticked by. ‘What did you say?’ Rosie prompted.
‘I’ve won five thousand pounds.’
The Browns exploded with excitement, and the next few hours were spent in a fury of mad ideas. Opening a pie and peas shop next to the pub, a sandwich bar to serve the local business park. ‘I want to give my money to you,’ Callie insisted.
‘Not a chance.’ Ma Brown crossed her capable arms across her capacious chest, and that was the end of it.
Callie made up her mind to put some of it aside for them, anyway.
‘You could buy all the rescue dogs in the world,’ one young Brown called Tom said optimistically.
‘Or a second-hand car,’ another boy exclaimed.
‘Why don’t you spend it all on clothes?’ one of the girls proposed. ‘You’ll never get another chance to fill your wardrobe.’
What wardrobe? Callie thought. Her worldly possessions were contained in a zip-up bag, but she smiled and went along with this idea and they all had some fun with it for a while.
‘It isn’t a fortune and our Callie should do something that makes her happy,’ Pa Brown said. ‘It should be something she’s always dreamed of, that she will remember for ever. She’s had little enough fun in her life up to now, and this is her chance.’
The room went quiet. No one had heard Pa Brown give such a long speech before. Ma Brown always spoke for him, if the dogs and his brood weren’t drowning him out.
‘Well, our Callie,’ Ma Brown prompted. ‘Have you got any thoughts on the subject?’
‘Yes, I do,’ Callie said, surprising herself as she thought of it.
‘Not Blackpool,’ Rosie said, rolling her eyes. ‘We can go there any weekend we like.’
‘Well?’ the Browns chorused, craning forward.
Reaching for the television guide, Callie opened it out flat on the table. There was a double-page spread, a travel feature, showing vibrant green lemon groves hung heavily with yellow fruit. A young family of husband, wife and two children capered across the grass, staring out towards unimaginable adventures. The headline read: Visit Italy.
‘Why not?’ Callie said as all the Browns fell silent. ‘I can dream, can’t I?’
‘You can more than dream now,’ Ma Brown pointed out with her usual common sense.
But by this time, Callie was already putting her dream on the back burner in favour of a far more realistic plan. Perhaps a weekend in a small coastal resort nearby. She could look for a job while she was there.
‘Think big. Think Italy,’ Rosie insisted.
‘That