The Boy Who Hugs Trees

by Dougie McHale

  ‘You know that if you want, you can speak to me anytime about things that you might be struggling to understand.’

  ‘I understand most things.’

  ‘What I mean is, if you want to speak about your dad then that’s alright.’

  Dylan shrugs. ‘Mum said that Dad made many wrong decisions and, because of that, he ended up in a lot of trouble.’

  ‘He did, but I’m sure he regrets that now. What you need to remember is your dad still loves you and, if he could turn the clock back, what I mean by that is, if he could do things differently, he wouldn’t have got involved with those bad men. You do understand that Dylan?’

  ‘I balance my decision making with logic, I find that’s the best way, I usually argue about lots of things because I normally think I’m right. Other people don’t always think so, but you can’t argue with logic. What Dad did was wrong, that’s what mum said. Because of Dad and his friends, a lot of people’s lives were ruined. He did bad things to people, and that’s not a good way to live your life. So when I think about that, the logical part of my brain tells me he should go to jail… Now that the summer is nearly over, you will be going home soon.’

  Adam smiles fondly at Dylan. ‘I’m not sure what I’m going to do.’

  They are now walking along the lane that leads to the house. Dylan has picked up a fallen branch and is waving it above his head.

  ‘Whoosh, whoosh,’ he says, enjoying the sound. He stops walking and looks at the ground. ‘I’ve never told anyone this. At night, sometimes, I could hear mum and dad arguing; I use to hide my head under the pillow or put my earphones on and listen to Mozart.’

  ‘I think things will be a lot better now.’

  ‘If you married mum, you would be my dad.’

  ‘That’s not going to happen. What made you think that?’

  ‘I saw you kissing her.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  ‘That’s alright. That’s what adults do when they like each other.’ He says without hesitation.

  ‘Yes, they do and I like your mum, she’s special to me.’

  ‘That’s ok; If you like mum and she likes you, it makes sense for you to stay here instead of going back to your old job,’ Dylan says, seriously.

  It sounds so simple, Adam thinks. He ponders it for a second, and why shouldn’t it be?

  The lane gently curves; they are above the sea now and the trees on each side become thicker. Adam can see a yacht; from the distance between them, it looks stationary, but he knows it is not, for as the minutes pass, he can see its progress. He thinks it a pertinent analogy for his life; his feelings for Georgia are no longer obscured by the uncertainty of whether they would ever be reciprocated by Georgia, they have moved on, and he is calm, for he has examined his conscience, and they have done nothing he is ashamed of. He will follow his intuition.

  They wander back to the house, both of them content; Adam smiling broadly, Dylan enthralled in his studious examination of the curves and angles of his branch.

  Georgia is sitting on the wicker sofa on the patio, gazing out over the expanse of sea and sky. The morning air is soft and still. A small bird lands on the wall and is unperturbed by Georgia’s presence.

  ‘Here you are. I wondered where you’d got to.’

  She turns and attempts a smile as Adam sits next to her. She pulls her shoulders straight and composes herself. He can see she has been crying. Her eyes are vivid with tears and her mouth trembles. In the last few days since the diary’s revelations, Georgia has been dismayed. She has wondered over and over why her mother never told her of her real father and her sister. Years lost, possibilities abandoned. The truth of the matter is Georgia now feels relief and regret; relief that she now knows, and regret for what could have been.

  Was her mother’s reluctance born out of a fear that, if the truth were told, it may have undermined their past, their connection, and trust?

  Georgia can now see the impossibility of it all. She must have felt trapped. Georgia understands her mother’s reluctance, and she feels a growing sense of shame at how she has judged her. Georgia’s guilt is intense but equally, her regret hurts.

  ‘Did Dylan enjoy the market?’ She meets his gaze levelly.

  ‘Yes, I think he did. We bought some cheese, but it started to get busy. A few buses arrived. The village must be getting popular, it’s definitely part of the tourist trail now.’

  ‘That’s good; the locals need all the money they can get. It can be quite quiet in the winter.’

  ‘What have you been up to?’

  ‘Oh, I’ve just been thinking about things, a lot of things.’

  ‘Like what?’ He angles his head and looks at her closely.

  ‘I’ve been trying to make sense of the past.’ She rests her hands in her lap. ‘I remember when this wall was built. Have you ever wondered why they built it like that, stopping at one side of the tree trunk and starting again at the other side so that the two olive trees have become part of the structure of the wall? I remember Mum was adamant the trees had to stay. She said they’d been there for hundreds of years, standing on the edge of the precipice through rain and storm, summer and winter, protecting us from the drop into the sea and they would continue to do so. I’ve just remembered, when I was young girl I gave them names.’

  ‘What did you call them?’ Adam asks, amused.

  ‘The one on the left is Rita and the other one Kathryn.’

  ‘Females.’

  ‘Yes. Do you like their names?’

  ‘I’m not too keen on Rita, but Kathryn makes up for it.’

  ‘I always thought they were like a frame, it looks like a picture inbetween; see how their branches touch at the top.’

  ‘And what a picture.’

  ‘This is one of my favourite parts of the garden.’ She touches the bracelet on her arm. ‘Mum gave me this as a birthday present; we were sitting here actually. I had no idea she loved this spot until Theresa said yesterday. When I need to think and untangle my thoughts I come here, I’ve done that for years. At home in Edinburgh, I often walk along the Waters of Leith, but that doesn’t compare to this, does it?’

  ‘No, not exactly. It’s certainly special.’ Adam looks at the Ionian as it shimmers with a nacreous sheen.

  ‘I feel like I’ve just stepped off a roller coaster, it’s still hard to take it all in. So much has happened in such a short space of time, so much has changed. I’ve changed. I have a sister who doesn’t know I exist; do you think she’d want to meet me?’

  ‘After the last few days, anything is possible.’

  ‘I was walking in the garden earlier and, by chance, I came across a spider making a web from one flower to another. I thought, what is the chance of that? Of all the flowers in this garden I happened to come across this little spider. I watch it for some time; it worked continuously, never stopping. It’s a wonder of nature how they can produce such intricate structures, they’re really works of art. Do you know what popped into my head?’

  ‘No. But you’re going to tell me.’

  ‘The story of Robert the Bruce or was it William Wallace? Whoever it was, it's not important, let’s say it was William Wallace,’

  Adam smiles. ‘It was Robert the Bruce.’

  ‘You know the story?’

  ‘Yes, the spider in the cave.’

  ‘That’s right. He’d lost a battle with the English and was hiding in a cave when he saw a spider trying to climb the wall of the cave or something like that, but my point is, this spider kept falling to the ground but that didn’t deter it, it kept on trying, again and again until it succeeded.’

  ‘And what has Robert the Bruce’s spider got to do with you?’

  ‘I want to meet Pavlina. I’m not going to give up until I’ve done all I can to bring us together. I want to meet her Adam.’

  Adam seems to hesitate for a moment. He lifts his hand and touches her face, and then he says seriously. ‘Theresa needs to speak with Pavlina. Theresa has kep
t the truth from her; you have that in common at least.’

  ‘We do. We have that connection.’

  ‘Theresa did what she thought was best for her family. If she tells Pavlina the truth, there’s no guarantee Pavlina will want to meet you. ’

  Georgia’s mind wavers. There is a silence between them.

  ‘I know, I know, but, she’s my sister, and she has a right to know. I have to see things for what they are today as well as how they were in the past. ’

  There is a little silence. She studies the sea for a moment and gives Adam an affectionate squeeze.

  ‘Look at the sea and sky,’ Georgia says, brightly. She points between the two ancient olive trees.

  ‘Where else have you seen nature look so striking? It amazes me each day; I’ll never get tired of looking at it. We virtually have our own beach as well.’ Georgia shakes her head. ‘Why would I ever want to leave this place, it’s part of who I am. Does that make sense? It does to me. I’m connected to this house, this island, I always have been. Even as a child, this was my special place; it always has been I think. I belong here.’ She makes a sweeping gesture with her hand. ‘I’ve just found out I’m actually half-Greek.’ She smiles at the thought and takes Adam’s hand. Georgia is filled with a sense of excitement and expectation. ‘My whole life has been leading me to this point, this very place, this time. I can’t go back and be the person I was; not now, not ever, not after all that has happened. I don’t want to go back to my old life I left that in Edinburgh. I don’t want to leave here, Adam. I’m not going back to Edinburgh.’

  ‘Where does that leave us?’

  She puts her hand to his face. ‘Wherever you want it.’

  ‘I love you, Georgia.’ He feels an immense need for her, and an inward weightlessness, as if he is floating on an enormous bubble of exhilaration. Adam wraps his arms around Georgia and is intoxicated by the smell of her hair.

  She lifts her eyes to his face and she knows no matter what happens, he will always be there for her. She thinks she knew it, the moment she met him.

  THE END

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  The Homecoming

  A novel by Dougie McHale

  It only takes a second to change a life…

  Louis Satriani, a successful architect, has the perfect life - or so he thought, until he finds out his partner is having an affair. Distraught, he abandons his life and embarks on a journey that will take him through the landscapes of Greece and into a family’s hidden past…

  Maria Nasiakos, a young attractive tour guide, living on the Greek island of Zakynthos, feels that life is passing her by. When she meets Louis, a decision is made that will change both their lives forever…

  Forced to confront past love and betrayal, Louis has to choose between his heart and head. As he unravels the truth about the extraordinary past of Maria’s mother, can their love survive life changing events and the unfolding of a secret that can only be resolved by a homecoming?

  ** Buy From: Amazon UK

  http://www.amazon.co.uk/Homecoming-Dougie-McHale- ebook/dp/B0144BKLH2/

  ** Amazon USA

  http://www.amazon.com/Homecoming-Dougie-McHale-ebook/dp/B0144BKLH2/

  Excerpt from The Homecoming

  Prologue

  1941

  The sky is lacquered in milky clouds and a watery sun. They amble along a farm track bordered by hedgerows, birdsong accompanies their progress. He frantically flaps his hand around his head, irritated by the continuous drone.

  ‘The bees are attracted to your brylcream.’ She grins. She pulls her hand along a grass stem and rubs the dislodged seeds between her fingers.

  ‘We’re going to France soon.’

  ‘When are you going?’ A slight panic rises in her voice.

  ‘In a few days; the lads are saying that it’ll be over in six months.’

  ‘Six months is still a long time,’ she says with a tremor of anxiety.

  ‘It will go by quickly enough. Before you know it, I’ll be back home. We were told yesterday. Our basic training is over now, and once our leave is finished, we’re off to France.’

  Her heart begins to pound. He burns with excitement.

  ‘I’ve never been to France. Ayr is the furthest I’ve been from home. I went there on holiday one summer when I was still at school. It rained every day.’ He laughs.

  She looks at him seriously. ‘This won’t be a holiday. You’re going to war. This isn’t a game you’re playing.’

  ‘I’ve been well trained. It’s not as if we don’t know what we’re doing,’ he says, offended by her accusation.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she placates. ‘It’s just that my mind’s been occupied lately. I was going to wait awhile longer before I told you but it seems I don’t have the luxury of time now.’

  ‘Tell me what?’ He frowns, still recoiling from her rebuke.

  She takes a deep breath, reaches out and takes his hand.

  ‘I’m pregnant. I’ve already been to see the doctor.’

  His eyes widen. ‘You’re having a baby. You’re having a baby,’ he repeats.

  ‘That’s what it means.’ She smiles.

  He pulls her towards him. ‘Have you told your mum and dad?’ There is a slight panic in his voice.

  She shakes her head. ‘No, not yet. I’m dreading it?’ She feels her heart sink.

  ‘They’ll have to be told. But you can’t do it on your own. I’ll be there with you. We’ll need to do it soon.’

  ‘It’s all happening too quickly. I haven’t even got used to the idea myself. A baby… me.’

  He holds her face in his hands. ‘You’ll make a wonderful mum and when I get back from this war, we’ll get married and be a family.’

  ‘You’d better come back to me Robert Williams.’

  He kisses her forehead. ‘All the wars in the world won’t keep me from you.’

  ***

  A determined concentration crosses the doctor’s face as he stares with intent at the protruding mound of matted hair that glistens between the girl’s trembling legs. He has rolled the sleeves of his white shirt above the elbow, yet speckles of blood stain the fabric, like paint flicked from a brush.

  ‘One more push lass that should do it,’ he encourages through tobacco-stained teeth. It is the deliverance of a prayer, not a fact.

  Flickering candles illuminate the blackness of another power cut in a soft light that splays a dance of elongated shadows across the wall. Ice cold air seeps through the window frame and floats over the small room. The doctor feels it on the back of his neck like breath whispered against his skin. Her skin, coated in sweat is flushed, apple red, in contrast to the white night dress crumpled and creased across her thighs.

  Huddled in murmured prayer, two tenebrous figures lurk in the corner. Irritated, the doctor looks over his shoulder.

  ‘Get me a towel,’ he barks and adds impatiently.

  ‘Quickly.’

  The contractions seem endless, the involuntary waves that move inside her are a constant and painful reminder that the life within is eager to escape its confines.

  When it is over, she is delicately placed on her mother’s chest.

  From the shadows
, they move, and like thieves snatch the baby from her.

  ‘The necklace,’ she pleads.

  ‘Don’t worry my dear I’ll see to it.’ The doctor’s words are soft, apologetic and heavy with shame.

  Edinburgh 2002

  Two Seconds to Steal a Lifetime.

  Louis ran through sheets of rain, regretting his decision not to have hailed one of the ubiquitous black taxis that patrolled Edinburgh’s George Street, now conspicuous by their absence.

  His fingers, wet and numb, clenched the collar of his coat. He cursed his attempt to stem the flow of irritant droplets staining his shirt in damp dark patches and moulding the cold material uncomfortably to his chest.

  Escaping the constant deluge, he finally entered the warm hallway with an involuntary shiver. Rainwater dripped from him, forming globular beads on the floor. A sudden stillness settled around him, he felt tired and quickly removed his drenched jacket with a welcome relief.

  Louis had enjoyed a few drinks with work colleagues in a city bar, and now his taste buds stirred for more. In the kitchen, he plucked a beer from the refrigerator. He savoured the cold sensation as it caressed his throat and wondered why the first drink from a bottle was always the best.

  It took a few moments for the contours and shapes of accustomed objects to gradually unfold, emerging from the darkness, as the refrigerator’s thrum washed over him, reminding him, as it always did, of the purring of a contented cat.

  He placed the half-drained bottle on a work surface and slid his feet from the confines of his shoes, a release that enabled him to curl and stretch his chilled toes. He considered making something to eat. Emma would be asleep, and the satisfying appeal of sliding beneath the sheets, and feeling the warmth of her body against his skin, pulled him towards the bedroom. The door stood ajar. Reveling in anticipation he peered through the dull light. Gently, he pushed the door which protested with a tired creak.