When she did eventually see him a week later in the woods, he told her to leave him alone. She’d never felt pain like it. She didn’t understand at the time that he was just hurt, stubborn. He told her many years later that he’d seen her in town with Patrick a few days after she’d moved in with the Byatts. He could see she’d already been enveloped in the Forest Grove way: her hair was shorter, her feet clad in expensive wellies. A young Ryan saw no role in his old friend’s life any more so he stepped away.
She looked up at his face now, eyes exploring the achingly familiar contours of his face. He was still a boy, really, barely changed by societal demands. He’d frozen in time here, and though in many ways he had grown – a father now, the town’s forest ranger – he was still the Ryan she knew. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her? So many harsh waves had knocked at the rocks of her life, the death of a child and now all this. She knew she wasn’t that pretty teenage girl any more. And yet that didn’t stop him moving closer to her, his fingers trailing down her cheek, and for a moment she really was back in that clearing again, a whole lifetime of regret and love rushing to the surface too. She felt her body reacting to him, a feeling so bound up with the feel of his skin on hers it seemed as natural as the leaves on the trees above.
‘I love you,’ he whispered. ‘You know I always have.’
Yes, she knew he’d always loved her. She had been too young to understand all those years ago that he was just pushing her away out of stubbornness and pride after he ignored her following that first kiss. But she grew to learn that Ryan had never stopped loving her, even when he met Daphne. He’d done the ‘right thing’, trying so hard to make a go of it with Daphne. But his love for Melissa was always there. She knew all this because he’d told her when he found her in the woods after Joel died. He found her at her most vulnerable and he became her sanctuary, her big, solid oak to hide away in.
And now she was desperate to hide away again, leave everything behind, just as she had in those days following Joel’s death eleven years ago.
She leaned into Ryan now, like she would into a large oak.
He kissed her brow, her cheek, the imprints left behind like the warm shadow of leaves protecting her from the elements.
Protecting her, like she was protecting her children, her children who may have stabbed their father.
Their father. Patrick.
Oh God, Patrick.
She pushed Ryan away, shaking her head. ‘No, no. I – I can’t.’
‘But you love me, I know you do.’
‘Of course I do, but not the way you want me to, not like I love Patrick.’
His handsome face registered hurt, then anger. ‘He’s not the man you think he is.’
‘Everything okay here?’
They looked up to see the two detectives working Patrick’s case watching them with raised eyebrows.
‘We’re fine,’ Melissa said, a flush travelling up her body.
‘Surprised to see you here,’ Detective Powell said, taking in Melissa’s flustered face with a bemused expression.
‘We’re friends,’ Melissa said, Ryan still staring at her, not saying anything. ‘Are you looking for me?’ she asked the detectives in as normal a voice as she could muster.
‘Actually, it’s Mr Day we’re looking for,’ Detective Crawford said.
Melissa frowned but Ryan didn’t look too surprised. Instead, he just gave a resigned sigh.
‘Why do you need to talk to Ryan?’ Melissa asked.
Detective Powell tilted her head. ‘Just following some leads. What’s all that?’ She gestured to the broken cameras.
‘Just some old junk,’ Ryan said, kicking it under a bush.
‘You both used to live here in the forest, didn’t you?’ Detective Crawford asked. ‘I was checking the old records – quite a few call-outs to your cottage, in fact, Melissa. It must have been difficult, enduring your father’s treatment of your mother?’
Melissa gave the detective a quizzical look. Why had he been checking her family’s records?
‘You came to question me, not Melissa,’ Ryan said, his voice hard as he stalked past the two detectives towards his lodge. ‘I have an appointment at nine-thirty so best do it now.’
Detective Powell went to say something but the other detective put a hand on his colleague’s arm, shaking his head slightly.
‘Haven’t you questioned him enough?’ Melissa asked.
‘It’s fine, Melissa, really,’ Ryan said, without looking at her. ‘Just go home.’
She glanced at the broken camera pieces. ‘Give me a shout later, okay?’
He didn’t say anything, just opened his door for the detectives. She walked away, feeling the police officers’ eyes on her back.
Melissa spent the next few hours with Patrick; Rosemary and Bill offered to take Grace to the cinema while the twins were at school. She got the impression they needed the reprieve as much as Grace. As Melissa approached Patrick’s bed, she felt guilt dart through her. Yes, she’d pushed Ryan away, but she couldn’t ignore how she’d felt as he’d looked at her like that. How must that have looked to the police too?
Melissa clutched Patrick’s hand. ‘I love you, darling.’
He moaned slightly. Maybe he could hear her? She leaned in close to him. ‘Patrick? Can you hear me? Just squeeze my hand if you can, or blink.’
She waited, but there was nothing. So she reached into her bag, pulling out the book Patrick had been reading. It was a self-help book about becoming the ‘best person you can be’. Patrick loved books like that and was halfway through this one, studiously reading it every night in bed with his black-rimmed reading glasses on.
‘I brought the book you’ve been reading,’ she said to him now. ‘Who knows, maybe I’ll learn a little something myself,’ she added with a laugh. ‘You always tell me I should try these books. Well, now you have your way.’
As she read to him, she examined his face. He was so handsome, even like this. It reminded her of the way he looked the night she was brought to his house. He must have heard all the commotion and came downstairs in his pyjamas, his brown eyes registering alarm when he saw Melissa standing in his kitchen in her nightdress.
‘Go back to sleep, darling,’ Rosemary had said to him, pulling Melissa’s trembling body close to her. ‘We’ll explain in the morning.’
He’d taken one last look at Melissa, smiling slightly, then he’d walked back upstairs.
The next morning, they had all sat around the kitchen table – Melissa and her mum, Patrick with his parents and sister. It was a Sunday morning and Rosemary had laid out a feast of a breakfast with pancakes and bacon, muffins and eggs. Melissa’s mum barely ate, instead just stared out into the forest. Melissa didn’t eat at first either but as she watched the Byatts go about their breakfast, tucking in, laughing and arguing, acting like it was just a normal Sunday morning in the Byatt household, she started joining in, Patrick catching her eye and smiling. After they’d eaten, Bill had explained that Melissa and her mum would be staying with them for a bit, ‘until they get back on their feet’.
It was the start of the summer holidays and the weather was perfect that first week, so Melissa was able to immerse herself in hanging out in the garden with Patrick and his sister, sunbathing and listening to music, pretending she was just a normal girl from a normal family. She tried to ignore the hushed talks between Patrick’s parents and her mother. The glimpses of her mother crying at the kitchen table.
Melissa felt tears slide down her face now, imagining what that young teenage girl would think about the fact that the boy she loved would be lying in a coma over twenty-five years later . . . a coma caused by one of their children.
Melissa’s phone buzzed in her pocket. Melissa wiped a tear away and pulled it out to see it was the school. She put the phone to her ear. ‘Hello?’
‘Hello, Mrs Byatt? It’s Miss Milton, Lewis’s football coach. I’m afraid Lewis had a little outburst on the pitch. I wo
nder if you could pop by and pick him up? It would be good to have a quick chat too.’
Melissa pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘Of course, I’ll be right there.’ She peered at the clock on the wall. It was only half an hour until the end of the school day. She might as well hang around and wait for Lilly too.
Melissa leaned over Patrick. ‘I love you,’ she whispered, giving him a kiss. ‘Your mum and dad will be here in an hour or so.’
Then she headed out, dreading what she was going to discover when she got to school.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tuesday 23rd April, 2019
2.30 p.m.
As Melissa drove to the school from the hospital, her mind ran over what Lewis could have done. He’d been so good lately. Should it really come as a surprise, though? She’d had a few calls like this over the years.
It infuriated Patrick. ‘Why can’t the boy control himself?’ he’d say. What Patrick didn’t seem to realise was that Lewis was just like him. Though Patrick gave off a calm exterior to the world, he was quick to lose his temper, swearing and throwing hammers in frustration when he got something wrong with his DIY efforts, or the times when Melissa would hear him late at night, yanking paper from the printer and kicking the door in anger.
In fact, father and son had locked horns more lately as Lewis grew more confident. Like the time a few weeks ago when Grace spilt some of her juice on the rug Patrick had spent ages cleaning the day before. Patrick had shouted at Grace in frustration, and Lewis had jumped to his little sister’s defence, telling his dad it was just a mistake.
It was only natural as boys became teenagers for them to clash with their fathers, so it didn’t concern Melissa. She just wished Patrick didn’t think Lewis was the one who needed to control himself when Patrick could be just as bad sometimes. But it was pointless telling Patrick that; he was blind to his own faults, like his parents were blind to the wonderful Byatt gene having any possible imperfections.
The fact was, Lewis was under particular strain now; no wonder he had returned to his old ways. But the first day back – really? She felt a burst of anger, punching at the steering wheel. Couldn’t these kids just give her a break? But as quickly as the anger came, the guilt flooded in.
It wasn’t their fault. They were just kids having to contend with way too much.
She drew up in the school car park and got out of the car, marching towards the football field. Lewis was sitting on the bench with his coach while the other players stood in a huddle, watching him. As Melissa drew closer, she noticed a boy being attended to by another teacher, a bloody tissue to his nose. She recognised that boy as being Andrea Cooper’s son, Carter.
‘Great,’ she whispered under her breath. Of all the boys it could have been, it had to be the son of the queen of Forest Grove, Andrea bloody Cooper.
The coach stood when she saw Melissa approach. She only lived in the next street and had done wonders for Lewis, spotting his sporting talent and nurturing it. When Lewis did have his outbursts, they were restricted to the classroom: on the sports field, whichever sport he chose to play, he was calm and focused.
Not today, though.
‘Hi, Melissa,’ the coach said with a sigh as Lewis avoided his mother’s gaze, looking down at the ground with an expression of anguish.
‘What happened?’ she asked.
‘Lewis lost his temper and lashed out at Carter over there,’ the coach said, gesturing to the boy with the bloody nose.
‘Was he provoked?’ Melissa flinched. ‘Sorry, that sounds bad.’
‘No, fair question,’ the coach replied. ‘I’m afraid not, though. It literally came out of nowhere. Carter made a very good tackle, a tackle that was perfectly above board, and Lewis punched him.’
Melissa looked at Lewis, taking in a deep breath.
‘I understand you’ve been through a lot,’ the coach said softly. ‘That’s why I’m being a little more lenient on this occasion. Maybe it was a bit too soon for Lewis to come back after everything, though?’
Andrea marched over to them then, drawing Carter along after her. Melissa watched the boy, wondering again what he’d said about her at the New Year’s Eve party.
‘You are going to apologise,’ Melissa said to Lewis in a harsh whisper.
‘But Mum . . .’
‘There’s no excuse for this, Lewis.’ She shoved him towards Carter. Up close, Melissa could see the boy’s nose wasn’t as bad as she’d expected, just a bit of blood clogging one of the nostrils.
Still, it wasn’t good.
Lewis sighed, forcing himself to look at Carter. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled.
‘I think you may have broken Carter’s nose, Lewis,’ Andrea said, her eyes sliding over to Melissa. ‘I’m going to have to take him to A & E. I have to confess, I’m very disappointed. I thought you two were friends?’
Lewis gave a bitter laugh. ‘Yeah, right. No chance.’
Andrea’s mouth dropped open.
‘Lewis!’ Melissa said. ‘I’m so sorry, Andrea. Lewis and I will be having stern words when we get back.’
‘I should hope so. Look at this,’ Andrea said, gesturing to the blood on Carter’s bright blue puffa jacket. ‘This coat cost me a fortune. I’ll need to buy him a new one now.’
Melissa suddenly got a flashback to the blood all over Patrick’s top. She forced the memory away. ‘Lewis will pay for a new coat too, won’t you, Lewis? You can use the money you’ve been saving for new football boots.’
Lewis’s nostrils flared. She dug him in the ribs with her elbow. ‘Alright,’ he said through gritted teeth.
Melissa looked at him in surprise. She didn’t like his attitude one bit. Yes, she wasn’t exactly a fan of Carter, nor his mother. But there was no excuse for any of this. They needed all the support they could get in this town at the moment and having Andrea Cooper as an enemy was not going to do them any favours.
‘Fine,’ Andrea said curtly. ‘Honestly, this was not how I imagined my day going.’
‘Like I said, I’m so sorry, Andrea. It’s just with everything going on . . .’ Melissa let her voice trail off.
‘I understand, of course I do,’ Andrea said, ‘but let’s face it, Melissa, it’s not like this is unusual for Lewis. The boy clearly has a propensity for violence – probably all those computer games Carter tells me he plays. It’s got to stop.’
Melissa clenched and unclenched her fists. She was so tempted to tell Andrea to shut the hell up. But the fact was, she had a point.
‘Right, come on,’ Andrea said to her son. ‘Let’s get you to the hospital.’ She stormed off, her son in tow.
Melissa watched them, blinking back tears.
‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ Lewis said. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you, but he—’
‘I don’t want to hear your excuse.’ She thanked his coach then strode back towards the car as Lewis jogged to keep up with her.
‘But Mum,’ he called after her, ‘seriously, he was being bang out of order!’
Melissa continued walking until they got to the car park, which was already beginning to fill up with parents, most of them driving from their jobs in Ashbridge to pick younger kids up on the way home, others no doubt noticing the dark clouds looming above and threatening rain. She jumped into her car, Lewis getting in next to her. She planned to wait in the car until the last possible moment to go and meet Lilly. The last thing she wanted was to be standing in the school playground.
‘Mum, if you just hear me out . . .’
She grabbed the steering wheel, staring ahead of her. ‘Miss Milton said it was a legitimate tackle,’ she said, trying to keep her voice calm. ‘I don’t want to hear any excuses.’
‘But it wasn’t about the tackle,’ Lewis whined. ‘It’s about what Carter said when he got up close to me.’
She turned to her son. ‘What? What did he say that made you nearly break his nose, Lewis?’
Lewis frowned, dropping his eyes from his mum’s face and looking at his hand
s. ‘He said you and Ryan have been having an affair. He called you a slut.’
Melissa’s mouth dropped open. ‘You’re kidding? Where the hell did he hear that?’
Lewis shrugged. ‘Just some rumours going around.’
‘Well, it’s not true, obviously. Little shit,’ she muttered.
Lewis raised an eyebrow at her bad language.
‘Not that it justified you nearly breaking his nose,’ she added quickly. ‘Little finger, maybe,’ she added as an afterthought.
Lewis smiled and Melissa sighed. ‘Look, Lewis, I just wish you didn’t lash out like that. It doesn’t look good with everything going on, do you understand?’ she said meaningfully.
‘I know,’ Lewis said with a sigh. ‘I’m sorry, Mum, really. I don’t want you getting upset. That’s the last thing I want.’
‘Oh, darling, come here and give me a Lewis hug.’
He leaned in, giving his mum a hug as she stroked his hair, not caring that it was all sweaty.
My boy, she thought to herself. My poor, poor boy.
She felt a surge of protection rush through her. She was angry at Lewis for lashing out, but Carter had been out of order. How dare he call her a slut?
A thought suddenly occurred to her. Had someone been watching Ryan and Melissa that morning? Is that how the rumour had started? Ryan was convinced someone was trying to intimidate her. The posters. That lone figure following her. The vandalised wildlife cameras.
And now these rumours.
There was a knock on the window. Melissa sighed and turned to see it was Andrea’s friend, Charlie Cane. She made a gesture for Melissa to open her window, so Melissa reluctantly buzzed it down.
‘Hello, sweetie,’ Charlie said.
Sweetie. They rarely talked, so Melissa wasn’t sure what the sweetie meant.
‘How are you?’ she gushed. ‘How’s Patrick? I heard the twins were back at school,’ she added, eyes sliding to Lewis, who was now looking at his phone. ‘Rather surprised me!’
‘Why surprised?’
‘Oh my gosh, sorry,’ she said, touching Melissa’s arm lightly. ‘It has nothing to do with me.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Andrea told me what happened,’ she said with a grimace, flicking back her long, highlighted hair.
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