by Susan Lewis
Though the place had turned out far bigger than they’d intended, with their growing family and so many visitors – her mother and stepfather from Kerikeri, her sister Gabby and Gabby’s family from Devon, and Anthony’s sister Maggie and her husband Ron from Kesterly – they were already running out of space. It didn’t matter, there was enough wood left over to extend the place when they were ready – or for someone else to if she and Anthony were forced to sell.
Sidestepping that as swiftly as she sidestepped so much these days, she left the vines and crossed the lawn – home to a netted trampoline, see-saw, slide, swings and a playhouse – to the wide stone terrace that ran the entire width of the house. It was shielded from the sun by four striped canopies, all of which were open, and was cluttered with toys, chairs, cushions, shoes, a pair of Spiderman pants, various bits of food and a small bicycle. There was no sign of anyone, nor any sounds coming from inside the wide-open doors, though she guessed Rowan was putting the little ones to bed while Chloe would no doubt be watching YouTube clips on her iPad mini somewhere, or sulking over something that had happened at school that couldn’t possibly have been her fault, because it never was.
Look on the bright side, Charlotte, at least all hell isn’t breaking loose (although Chloe usually reserved the seriously heated dramas specially for her mother). For all you know she could be helping Rowan, or getting ready for bed, or preparing something for school in the morning. She wouldn’t be at a friend’s, because she wasn’t invited any more, and no one ever came here.
Thinking of how lonely Chloe probably felt underneath all the attitude and bravado, of how very different she was now to the sweet, shy little girl Charlotte had adopted, Charlotte could sense how easy it would be for her to feel engulfed by failure. If anyone had told her back then that such an angel could turn into a monster at times, that an eight-year-old could be a baby one minute and like a violent teen the next, she’d have … What would she have done? Refused the adoption? Of course not, she’d never have done that, and it wasn’t as if she hadn’t known that children who started out the way Chloe had went on to have problems later. So much of her time as a social worker had been spent trying to help those children and their families – the big difference was, she hadn’t lived with them, hadn’t been on the inside experiencing just how difficult, how heartbreaking and even impossible it could be. She was having the first-hand experience now, and she knew she really had to try harder, find a way to reach Chloe for both their sakes before something happened that they’d all end up regretting.
Checking her phone in case there was a message she’d missed, she found no one had rung, or texted since one of the retreat guests had been in touch to say how much they’d loved the place.
‘These retreats are adorable,’ Zoe Reynolds had gushed when Charlotte had shown her around the estate. ‘You did them up yourself?’
‘With the help of a builder, and my mother,’ Charlotte had replied, feeling proud of her efforts, and vaguely embarrassed that Zoe’s approval was pleasing her.
‘We can definitely use them for promotion,’ Zoe told her. ‘Are they on the website?’
‘Of course.’
‘I must take a look at that, make sure everything is being maximised to its full potential. I’m expecting a photographer to turn up any time now, so if you can let me know when it’ll be convenient for him to go into the retreats that would be great.’
Three weeks had passed since that conversation, and as far as Charlotte was aware no photographer had shown up yet. He ought to be here now, she was thinking, as she paused to gaze out across the vines she’d just walked through down to the vast swathes of fruit orchards beyond their property, and on to the far horizon where the glassy blue Pacific and early evening sky were streaked with red by the setting sun. To the right, past the olive farm next door, and out of sight from here, was the Tukituki River, relaxed and stony in these hot summer months; a bubbling, dangerous torrent when winter came. To the left were more vines belonging to the Te Mata Estate, and beyond them, a kilometre and a half away on the road into the village, was the Black Barn Vineyard.
Starting as her mobile rang, she was flooded with relief to see it was Anthony and quickly clicked on. ‘How’s it going?’ she asked, starting to pick up some of the debris left behind by the children.
‘Hard to tell,’ he replied. ‘He seemed interested, but he’s going to get back to us tomorrow.’
‘Did you discuss quantities?’
‘He knows how much we have available; we didn’t need to get into detail, not yet, anyway. How’s everything your end?’
‘OK. I’ve just got back. Have you spoken to the children yet?’
‘About five minutes ago. Chloe asked if she can sleep in our bed with me being away for the night, so I said it was OK.’
Trying not to sound irritable, Charlotte said, ‘You should have asked me first.’
‘Why? What’s wrong with her sleeping in our bed?’
‘It’s like a reward for something, and you know very well she doesn’t deserve it. Besides which I’m working at the bistro tonight. I don’t want to wake her when I get in. Did she tell you how school went today?’
‘She said it was OK. Cooper’s made some cakes, I hear.’
‘He’s saving them for you.’ Why wasn’t she smiling?
‘So I believe. Elodie blew me a kiss down the phone.’
‘You make it sound as though she’s never done that before.’
He fell silent.
Wishing she hadn’t sounded so sharp, she said, ‘So where are you and Zoe going for dinner tonight?’
‘I’ve no idea. I might just grab room service.’ Before she could say any more he added, ‘I’m getting the impression that nothing I say right now is going to make you happy, so I think it’s best I ring off.’
‘OK. Don’t forget to email me with the wines you want to offer for tasting tomorrow, unless you want to keep them the same as today.’
‘Speak to Will about that.’
‘And the special offers we discussed at the weekend?’
‘We can deal with that when I get back. Has the new website guy been in touch yet?’
‘Not with me.’
‘OK, I’ll get Zoe to chase him up. Hope it goes well at the bistro tonight,’ and he was gone.
Wondering what had happened to their closeness, why nothing ever seemed to feel right between them, Charlotte forced herself to carry on clearing the terrace, doing her best to keep her breathing steady and focus her mind elsewhere until she was ready to deal with the children. There was nothing she could do tonight about him being in Wellington, with Zoe – did she really need to worry about that? Didn’t she already have enough on her mind?
‘Mummy!’ Elodie whooped cheerily as Rowan brought her on to the terrace.
‘Sweetheart,’ Charlotte smiled through her tears, and taking her into an enveloping embrace she kept her face buried in the wonderful baby scent of her, not wanting Rowan to see she was upset. ‘Why aren’t you asleep?’ she asked Elodie, kissing her nose.
‘She almost was,’ Rowan replied, ‘but then Daddy rang.’
‘Daddy,’ Elodie echoed.
‘And you blew him a kiss?’ Charlotte smiled.
Making a kissing sound, Elodie let her head drop on her mother’s shoulder and twisted a finger around Charlotte’s hair.
‘Where are the others?’ Charlotte asked, following Rowan into the house. To the left was an enormous kitchen with bar stools all around the countertops and large French doors to the side, opening to a newly installed sandpit, trio of boxwood swings and a barbecue. To the right was the spacious sitting room where a vast stone fireplace dominated three cosy sofas, an assortment of beanbags, a small desk belonging to Cooper, a table and chairs belonging to Elodie and a hammock that was Chloe’s and generally found in the garden, but for some reason had been brought inside. Between the two rooms was the vast, double-height entry hall, home to a large oak dining table comp
lete with ten non-matching chairs, a driftwood chandelier with a sock and a paper aeroplane hanging from it, and a sideboard full of anything anyone could manage to stuff inside.
‘Cooper’s asleep, would you believe,’ Rowan replied, ‘and Chloe’s in your room playing games on her iPad. Apparently Anthony said she could sleep there. Shall I go and put this one down?’ she offered, taking Elodie back.
Though Charlotte would have liked to do it herself, Elodie was already half asleep and she really needed to see Chloe before she drove down to the bistro.
‘How did it go at school today?’ she asked Rowan quietly.
‘Pretty good, I think,’ Rowan replied. ‘She came out on time and no one said anything to suggest things hadn’t gone well.’
‘And swim club? Did she let you stay and watch?’
‘No, but Logan Fry’s mum kept an eye on her and apparently she was as good as gold.’
Relieved beyond words, Charlotte said, ‘Three days back at school and no bad reports. Do you think we’re turning a corner?’
‘I hope so.’
Willing it with all her heart, Charlotte wolfed down a discarded Marmite crust from the children’s tea table and ran upstairs to the master suite, which should have been her and Anthony’s private domain but rarely was.
‘What are you playing there?’ she asked, going to sit on the bed next to Chloe.
‘Lego Nexo,’ Chloe answered, keeping her eyes on the tablet. ‘It’s so cool.’
In spite of knowing it was rated 10+ Charlotte simply said, ‘How are you getting on with it?’
With a sigh, Chloe said, ‘It’s kind of dumb, but I like it.’
There were moments, Charlotte thought, when Chloe seemed so confident, so certain of who she was and what she wanted, that it was as though she didn’t need parents at all. However, Charlotte rarely forgot that deep down inside there was still the small child who’d had to deal with far too much already in her short life. It was the child Charlotte loved, and who had loved Charlotte with all her heart, whereas the skinny girl lying on the bed seemed to be growing into a stranger in front of Charlotte’s eyes. It was impossible to know what was really going on with her, because Chloe refused to talk to anyone about the atrocious tempers, rages even, that had started about a year ago, but they surely were a reaction to her terrible early years. Or maybe they were simply a part of Chloe growing up and testing boundaries.
Boundaries? Don’t make me laugh. It’s like she wants to bring the entire world crashing down round your ears.
Ignoring the inner voice, Charlotte said, ‘Fancy a chat before I go out?’
Chloe shrugged. ‘I need to finish this. Dad said I could sleep here, by the way.’
Charlotte watched her face, so young and tender and yet so oddly, unnervingly remote at times. ‘I’m waiting for an apology,’ Charlotte told her. ‘You punched me this morning and you know very well …’
‘All right, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ Chloe broke in irritably, ‘but you shouldn’t have pulled my hair. It really hurt.’
‘I was trying to make it presentable for school.’
With a sigh Chloe cast aside the iPad and rolled on to her back. Everything about her demeanour emanated insolence, apart from her eyes; they appeared more inquisitive than challenging.
What on earth was going through her mind? What did she see when she looked at her mother? How did she feel after she’d hurt her brother or sister?
‘What did you do at school today?’ Charlotte asked carefully.
Chloe shrugged again.
‘You must have done something.’
‘PE. Maths. I can say ‘‘want any dessert?” in Maori. E hiahia ana koe ki etahi purine? So do you think Uncle Rick will give me a job at the bistro?’
Charlotte was about to reply when Chloe suddenly said, ‘Have you been crying?’
Charlotte frowned in surprise. ‘No. What makes you say that?’
‘You look like you have. Have you had another row with Anthony?’
‘He’s Dad to you, and no I haven’t.’
‘He’s not my dad though, is he? He hasn’t adopted me.’
‘But he will as soon as everything’s straightened out here.’
‘I don’t think he wants me.’
Having been through this before, Charlotte stifled a sigh as she said, ‘That’s just nonsense, and you know it. He loves you every bit as much as I do …’
‘But not the same way he loves Cooper and Elodie.’
Disliking the way she said Elodie, Charlotte caught Chloe’s hands between her own and stared hard into her eyes. ‘You’re trying to create problems where there are none,’ she told her forcefully. ‘Now I have to go, Uncle Rick’s expecting me in twenty minutes.’
Chloe blinked in amazement. ‘So who’s going to be looking after us, if you’re not here?’ she demanded.
‘Rowan, who do you think?’
‘But Rowan’s going out with the kindi mums.’
Charlotte’s insides lurched as she remembered that was indeed the plan. Oh dear God, what was she going to do? She couldn’t let Rick down at this short notice, but nor could she ask Rowan to give up a rare night out, and she sure as hell couldn’t leave the children on their own.
Fifteen minutes later, having apologised to Rowan more times than either of them could bear, Charlotte was driving down to the bistro with Chloe’s anger still ringing in her ears.
‘You didn’t even read me a story,’ she’d yelled as Charlotte left the house. ‘You’re mean and wicked and I hate you.’
Swallowing yet more guilt, while praying Chloe didn’t start breaking things as she sometimes did when things weren’t going her way, Charlotte took out her phone and connected to Anthony. ‘Hi,’ she said softly into his voicemail, ‘I just wanted to say I’m sorry about earlier. I guess I was feeling a bit stressed, but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Hope everything goes OK with the meeting tomorrow. I’m working at the bistro tonight, but give me a call later if you can.’
It was just after eleven by the time she returned home shattered, and far more upset than she wanted to admit. Anthony hadn’t rung or texted, which meant he either hadn’t got her message, or he had and simply hadn’t wanted to call.
‘I’m still awake,’ Chloe whispered as Charlotte let herself into the bedroom.
Sinking inside, Charlotte said, ‘Then you shouldn’t be. It’s late and you’ve got school in the morning.’
‘I don’t want to go.’
‘You have to.’
‘Who says?’
‘I do. Please Chloe, I’m very tired so I don’t want to get into an argument now.’
Chloe fell silent, but only until Charlotte came back from the bathroom. ‘I didn’t mean it when I said I hated you,’ she murmured, as Charlotte lay on the bed next to her.
‘I know,’ Charlotte said.
‘I love you really.’
‘And I love you.’
‘Always and forever?’
‘Always and forever.’
Feeling Chloe’s arms go round her neck, Charlotte pulled her small frame in close to her and held her tight. She remembered only too well the torment and confusion of growing up in an adoptive family, never quite believing she was wanted, always certain her adoptive mother didn’t really love her. She’d felt convinced that her real mother, the one she’d later found and loved so dearly now, simply hadn’t wanted her. She’d do anything to prevent Chloe feeling like that, but in her heart she could tell that on a level Chloe didn’t yet understand, she already did, and this was simply the start of it.
Charlotte shot out of bed. The noise was deafening, thuds, crashes, screams coming from Cooper’s room. She dashed across the landing, pushed open the door, terrified of what she was going to find.
Cooper was lying quietly in his bed, fast asleep. No one else was there.
Realising it must be coming from Elodie’s room she raced next door, fear thudding so hard in her heart it was part of the uproar.<
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Elodie was asleep in her cot, the mobile over it swaying gently in a breeze from the open window.
Charlotte’s hands flew to her ears. The noise was still there, banging inside her head like it was trying to break her skull.
‘Chloe,’ she gasped, and rushing across the landing she stumbled in through Chloe’s open door expecting to be hit by a flying shoe or toy, but the room was empty. The bed hadn’t been slept in; nothing was out of place. Where was Chloe?
As she remembered that Chloe was sleeping in her bed, she stumbled back to her room and found her on Anthony’s side of the bed, fast asleep with Boots, her precious bear, right next to her.
Realising a nightmare had bled out of her subconscious to trick her into believing it was real, she sank down on the edge of the bed and dropped her head in her hands.
‘It’s all right,’ she whispered shakily to herself. ‘It was just a dream. Everything’s fine. No one’s been hurt.’
Chapter Three
‘You’re not looking your best, sweetie,’ Rick declared when Charlotte turned up just before nine the next morning to find him picking agapanthi from the overflowing borders around the bistro.
She was far from it after her disturbed night, for she’d got almost no sleep after thinking, believing, Chloe was attacking the little ones. It had felt so real.
‘I hate that you’re not on top form,’ he told her.
‘Funnily enough, I hate it too,’ she replied, ‘but until we start getting some good news around here …’
‘Oh no, please don’t tell me Anthony didn’t get the order?’
‘He’s still waiting to hear. Which means he’s still in Wellington, with Zoe, and I’m here looking and feeling crap, as you so kindly pointed out …’
‘But we can do something about that,’ he cut in with a flourish, as his partner appeared. ‘Hamish, I’ve decided my sister can do with some spoiling, and we’re the ones to make it happen. Shopping? Lunch? A day at the beach?’
‘Why don’t you let her choose?’ Hamish suggested, his gentle eyes made larger and somehow kinder by the thick lenses of his glasses.