The Boy Who Hugs Trees

by Dougie McHale

  ‘Emily, thank you for coming. I was afraid you might not.’

  She hesitates, trying to find the right words. ‘I must admit it crossed my mind,’ she pauses; she cannot deny how she feels. ‘I thought it would be rude not to. Besides I did say I’d give you the photograph.’

  She reaches into her handbag and takes out a cream envelope. She opens it and hands him a photograph.

  He looks at it for a while and still looking says, ‘you look beautiful Emily and happy.’

  She smiles with her lips together. ‘I still am.’

  He looks at her then. ‘I want you to know I’m not in the habit of inviting woman to my house.’

  She rubs the side of her neck as if there is an itch. ‘I’m glad to hear that. And I want you to know I’ve never been unfaithful.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘How could you know?’

  ‘I can’t explain it at this moment, I just know.’ He feels an overwhelming protectiveness towards her. ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ He stubs out his cigarette.

  She stares into his eyes. ‘I’ve never been more certain in my entire life.’

  Stelios slides from the chair and kneels in front of her. He hesitates, and then brushes his hand through her hair. Stelios traces his finger along her eyebrow and down her cheek. Emily’s breathing grows faster, she inhales deeply. He brushes his fingertip over her top lip, her mouth opens slightly and she kisses it, and then another, the fullness of her lips sending light tickles through his abdomen. Stelios moves his other hand to her stomach and then feels her breast through her dress. He hasn’t taken his eyes from her; he bends his head and their lips touch, delicately at first, and then deeper. Emily pulls away from him.

  ‘Not here, take me upstairs,’ she whispers. He takes her by the hand and she follows him.

  In the bedroom, one of the double glass doors that lead to a large balcony is open; a slight breeze floats towards them. She can feel its touch upon her arm. The room is large and spacious and white sheets cover the bed. There is a smell of lavender. Stelios stands in front of her and touches her face with his hand. He leans towards her and unbuttons her dress; he slides it from her shoulders and lets it fall, abandoning its concealment. He kisses her neck and then her shoulder, Emily raises her head, her lips slightly part and a small sound escapes her.

  She holds his head in her hands. ‘My turn,’ she murmurs into his hair.

  Emily unbuttons his shirt with light flicks of her fingers and slides it from his shoulders. Her heart is pulsing inside her. She bends her head and kisses his chest, the hairs tickling her lips. The smell of his skin fills her nostrils. They move towards the bed and, in that moment, there is no confusion to her thoughts, only intentness, and an eagerness to feel him inside her, her inner space, and melt into him.

  Chapter 46

  Finding Something Precious

  It will be another hot day; the forecast warned of an impending heat wave and Georgia thinks it has already arrived, for as she leaves the coolness of the air conditioning and strolls into the sweltering garden, it feels as if a hair dryer is blowing hot air around her.

  The lemon grove is her favourite part of the garden. She likes the way the sun’s light filters through the trees. She stands still and then reaching upwards, her fingers slide along a perfectly shaped lemon, a bulbous golden sun. Some have fallen and litter the dry earth.

  She cherishes these moments, especially today; she closes her eyes and inhales. Georgia recognises the fragrance of rosemary and thyme, these smells are a comfort to her. They trigger fond memories that stretch to her childhood, of playing in this garden, and later, to the present day, picking herbs that will season a dish for a meal bringing together family and friends. How extraordinary, she thinks speculatively, how certain aromas can conjure such profound feelings and imagery. This house has seen her grow from a child into a woman; it has been a haven of attachment, a secure bond, and it has defined her life.

  She wraps her arms around her waist, her eyes fill with tears; it is a moment of weakness she allows herself to have. And then she straightens her posture, there is no room for sentimentality, not now.

  On the morning Stephen left, he read the anger on her face, heard the disgust in her voice. She feared his usual self-justification that always followed the morning after his verbal onslaughts of abuse but this time, unlike the others, his abuse had been physical. He had pleaded with her in consternation, a panic that laced each word; he said he was tormented by guilt, by jealousy. Georgia surprised herself but, clearly afraid, she told him it was over and he was to leave that morning; she never wanted to see him again. Until, that is, the phone call she received that morning from a policeman in Athens who explained that Stephen was in the hospital with gunshot wounds and was under arrest for money laundering, drug trafficking and several other charges she failed to process as he launched into a detailed monologue.

  ‘I’ve had a call from the police in Athens. Stephen has been arrested, he’s been shot and he’s in the hospital.’

  ‘My God, what happened?’

  ‘They wouldn’t tell me. Chris has also been arrested. I phoned the office in Majorca. They said that both Stephen and Chris were in Athens on business.’ Georgia looks pale.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Adam asks.

  She sighs. ‘I feel exhausted. I can’t take any more of this. Shot! What has he been up to that someone wants to kill him? The police mentioned drugs.’ She rubs her forehead. ‘I’m going to Athens; Theresa will look after Dylan for me.'

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘No, I’ll go on my own. I don’t even know if they’ll let me see him.’ Her voice is trembling.

  ‘You’re in no fit state to travel on your own. I’m going with you, I insist, end of.’

  Georgia looks at Adam; she has no desire to argue with him, she is tired and confused. ‘You’re right. I’d like that.’ She smiles and touches his arm.

  ‘Good, I’ll arrange the flights. When do you want to go?’

  ‘Today, tomorrow… as soon as possible really.’ She pauses. ‘I’ve been filled with self-doubt, loathing myself and blaming myself. I need to see him, even lying in that hospital bed, I need to see him, I have to face him and tell him what I should have said years ago, that he is a sad and pathetic excuse for a father and a husband. I’ve protected him far too long, I’ve been delusional all these years, thinking that somehow it would get better, that he would eventually change and become the husband and father both Dylan and I never had. He’s such a wanker.’ She glances sharply at him. ‘Does that surprise you?’

  Adam smiles. ‘Only the part where you called him a wanker. I’ve never heard you speak like that.’

  ‘Does it suit me?’ Georgia smiles back.

  ‘It suits you when you’re speaking about him; otherwise, no.’

  A short silence follows and then she says, seriously, ‘Was it obvious? I mean, I tried to make us look like a normal couple, but at times it was hard. We’ve been living together, just, but in reality, we co-existed like two different people. In public we were a couple, it was a deceptive veneer, but I’ve become tired of pretending, tired of apologising for his behaviour. He has never hit me before. That was the first. It will be his last.’

  As she speaks, Georgia looks sad and forlorn, but when she speaks the words, “it will be his last,” her voice projects a rush of venom.

  ‘When I think back to that night, sometimes it doesn’t feel real, like it was a dream, but then I remember the pain, the humiliation. There’s a thing I must do, a final deliverance. It’s not with compassion I will stand by his bedside. I’m going to enlighten him about the pain he has caused this family and then I’m going to tell him, to his face, I want a divorce. I want the house in Edinburgh; he can have the flat in London. This house is mine, thank God, he can’t get his hands on it. I want half of what he’s worth; I think I’ve earned it.’

  As Georgia speaks, Adam feels he has let her down, he did
not do enough. The feeling encases him, and he promises himself it would never happen again.

  ‘Have you spoke with Dylan, about Stephen?’

  ‘Yes, I have.’

  ‘How did he take it?’

  ‘He has been very subdued; I know he ruminates about it when he is on his own. I’ve heard him talk to himself going over and over it. I don’t think he can articulate it.’

  ‘It’ll take time.’

  ‘I know.’ Her voice cracks slightly as she looks towards the garden.

  ‘My mum loved this garden; she spent a lot of time in it. I remember helping her when I was little, planting flowers, picking the oranges and lemons. Then as I got older, it felt more of a chore and I hated the dirt in my fingernails. Now, I always wonder if mum felt sad that I stopped helping her, I became interested in other things that, in a way I suppose, stopped us talking as much as we use to.’

  ‘But that’s just part of growing up, we all did it.’

  ‘I know. But now, I regret it. As a mother, I know how that must have felt for her. The sad thing is, I can’t get those times back.’

  She takes her sunglasses off, and in doing so she is allowing Adam to scrutinise the extent of the bruising around her eye.

  ‘I don’t want to live my life in fear anymore; I don’t want Dylan’s memories of this beautiful place to bedevilled by Stephen’s actions; there will be no more bruised faces.’

  He reaches out, and with the tip of his finger, he traces the orange and purple bruise as if it is a delicate flower. ‘No one will ever hurt you again, I promise.’

  There are tears in her eyes, and for the first time he sees a tangible relief suffuse her face, and each muscle physically relax. Adam is aware of becoming aroused; it’s a mysterious thing, he thinks, how he can feel his love for this woman grow. Instinctively he embraces her and he feels willingness on her part as she does not pull away. Adam threads his fingers through her hair; he feels intoxicated by the smell of it, she tilts her head and looks at him, her eyes are wide, drawing him into her with their shine. He thinks her eyes are beautiful, stunning. Adam wants to weep for her, for her vulnerability, her grief, and for her anger. He bends his head and their mouths open, almost touching but not yet, he has not taken his eyes from hers. Adam has never been surer in his life, not since his wife was alive, that he has found something precious, which has meaning beyond mere words; it has touched his soul, there is no other way to describe it.

  Chapter 47

  Butterfly

  It was Adam’s first visit to Athens. They stayed at the Emporikon Hotel, a neo-classical 19th-century building. The police allowed Georgia only five minutes with Stephen and then asked her questions, most of which she didn’t know the answers to. She expected the questioning, but not the short time she was had with Stephen. They were not alone, a poker-faced policeman sat in the corner of the room the entire duration of her visit and Georgia noted he spoke perfect English. Adam waited for her at a café bar across from the hospital. On her return, Georgia refused his offer of a coffee, preferring instead to take a taxi back to their hotel. He smiled and was about to ask her how she got on but thought better of it; he would wait until she was ready to talk. When they arrived at the hotel, Georgia said she needed to walk, so they spent time in the Plaka, amongst the tourist shops, jewellery shops, street musicians and flower sellers. Adam thought it felt like a village in the middle of Athens. Gradually, Georgia talked, and they looked for somewhere to eat. They sat at a table outside the Vyzantino restaurant and ordered red lentil and aubergine moussaka.

  ‘I saw him for five minutes; a policeman was in the room the entire time.’

  ‘How did he take it?’

  ‘He was expecting it; it came as no surprise. He asked about Dylan. Stephen knows he will go to jail for a long time.’

  ‘Did he speak of what’s been going on, why he was shot?’

  ‘No, only that he was up to his neck in it and that he was ashamed of his behaviour. He only said that he had got caught up in this other world, he said it was evil, a revolving door, one he could not get out of. Adam, he wanted to die. When the shooting started he didn’t move, in that moment he willed a bullet to kill him. I wasn’t expecting to hear that. He is ill Adam. Whatever he was up to it was obviously illegal. I was misled by a lie. He has let us all down, especially Dylan.’

  ‘He misled himself, what’s that saying… as long as it’s sunny you don’t have to mend the roof… something like that. You’ve been through a tough few weeks.’

  ‘I’ve got through it because of you. I couldn’t have on my own.’ She bends her head and feels tears in her eyes. She has felt hollow for weeks, but it is only with Adam that she feels a warm radiance growing inside her.

  ‘I know it’s a cliché but a great weight has lifted from me. I can look towards the future now with a smile inside me and I haven’t been able to do that in a long time.’

  He leans forward and takes her hand. ‘I’ll never take the smile from your face.’

  She gives a little smile and her face becomes warm. ‘Good, because now I’ve got it back, I intend to keep it. Do you want to do the touristy thing? You can’t come to Athens and not see the Acropolis and the museum. My favourite is the National Archaeological Museum, I must show you The Temple of Zeus.’

  Adam laughs. ‘It sounds like we’ll need to stay for a week.’

  Later that night, in the hotel bar, Adam asks Georgia

  if she has travelled much in Greece?

  ‘A little; the usual postcard islands, Santorini, Mykonos, but to be honest, for me, nothing compares to the Ionian Islands, they’re lush and green, the sky and sea melt into one another. I’m biased of course, Corfu being the best. It’s not until I’m back in Edinburgh that I realise just how much I love it.’

  ‘I’d love to see more of Greece.’

  ‘Then you should start with the Ionian Islands. I’ve visited the main ones. There are seven of them, they are called Heptanese-seven islands, but there are many smaller ones. Each has its own distinct personality, especially the landscapes, and then there are the dialects, the different customs and traditions. You’ll have heard of Cephalonia and Zakynthos?’

  ‘Yes, I know them.’

  ‘Well, apart from them, and Corfu of course, there’s also Ithaca, Lefkada, Paxi, also known as Paxos, and Kythira. You should visit Zakynthos and Cephalonia to start with. We should do that sometime.’

  ‘I’d like that very much.’

  ‘And so would I. It could be like a holiday, just you and me and nothing but the day in front of us to do whatever we want.’ She finishes her glass of wine and pours them both another glass. ‘That’s it finished, shall we order another?’

  Adam smiles. ‘Why not? We can pretend we’re on holiday.’

  ‘I think the majority of the people in the hotel are. It’s getting noisy in here; do you want to sit outside?’

  ‘We could do, I’ll order another bottle.’

  They both stand up and Georgia sways a little. Adam reaches out and steadies her. Her skin feels warm, and he fights an impulse to kiss her.

  ‘Oh, the wine’s gone straight to my head.’

  ‘You didn’t eat much at dinner, that’s why. Are you sure you want another bottle?’

  ‘Probably not, I’ll just have this glass.’

  They settle into their chairs in a small rectangular seating area, with little bulbs positioned in raised flower beds that just give off enough light to allow Adam to scan a menu.

  ‘Do you want olives or nuts?’

  ‘No, I’m fine.’ She looks around. ‘It’s nice out here.’

  There are only a few couples around them; most are engaged in hushed private conversations. Adam wonders if, like them, they too are viewed as a couple.

  ‘I think I’ll get olives when the waiter comes over again.’

  Adam takes a drink and looks at her face shadowed in the in the muted light. Her head is bent. As she checks her mobile for messages, a curt
ain of hair has fallen and covers an eye. He wonders, briefly, if her heart leaps every time she is near to him, but then, almost instantly, he feels ashamed that he has doubted her feelings.

  She takes a swallow of wine as she reads a text. ‘It’s Theresa. She says Dylan’s in bed now and sleeping.’ She visibly relaxes in front of him.

  ‘Good, you don’t have to worry now.’

  ‘But I do. When he has asked about what happened to Stephen, he wants to know what type of guns were used, did anyone get killed and if so how many? He seems fixated on it, he doesn’t really ask about Stephen.’

  ‘He struggles with understanding his own emotions at the best of times. His interest in the guns is probably his way of trying to communicate his confusion and sadness. He’s just trying to understand his own feelings; it’s his way of crying out for help.’

  There is a silence between them, it is not uncomfortable or awkward, there is no intense need to fill every gap with conversation, it is a milestone in how far they have come.

  ‘Look, I’ve no doubt he knows you are upset, but he probably doesn’t know how to comfort you because really, he doesn’t know if his dad will live or die and because of this he would feel he is telling a lie, so he can’t say anything; he doesn’t know what to say.’

  ‘You understand Dylan better than I do?’ she says, honestly.

  ‘I don’t, I’m just aware of what his thought processes are likely to be because of his autism… but I could be wrong,’ he says, unable to resist a smile.

  She gave out a small laugh, enjoying his sense of humour.

  ‘I bet you were a good lawyer.’

  ‘What? Where did that come from?’

  ‘I can imagine you in your power suit; it’s a pleasing image by the way.’ He raises an eyebrow. Recently he has become more daring with her.

  She meets his gaze. ‘Well, you’ll just have to keep imagining it.’

  ‘Do you miss it?’

  She shakes her head. ‘Oh God no, I’ve never felt envious about that at all or that I’m missing out. There’s far more self-satisfaction in bringing up a child. We learn from our children and such lessons are the most important gift we’ll ever get. I felt nothing like that when I practised law.’