‘Sorry,’ Matthew said.
‘Sorry,’ Elliot echoed.
‘That took years to grow,’ Cape told them. ‘We can’t have that sort of damage done to the garden if you’re to continue coming here.’
‘You’re inviting them back?’ Patrick asked in surprise.
‘Of course. They’ve got to learn and this is just their first day, but we’ll keep them under closer supervision, okay?’
‘Thank Mr Colman,’ Patrick told them.
‘Thank you, Mr Colman,’ the boys said in unison.
‘Right, let’s get you home before you do any more damage.’ Patrick raised a hand in farewell to the group. ‘We’ll see you tomorrow morning.’
The group muttered its goodbyes as he disappeared down the driveway with his boys.
‘What a very odd thing to do,’ Dorothy said. ‘I couldn’t have let those boys cry all that time in the maze if they’d been mine.’
‘What is wrong with that man?’ Kathleen asked.
‘I think the boys try him quite hard,’ Cape said in Patrick’s defence.
‘But to leave them like that,’ Dorothy said. ‘That just wasn’t right.’
‘He’s going through a tough time himself,’ Anne Marie pointed out.
‘That’s no excuse to take it out on those poor boys,’ Dorothy said. ‘Not after what they’ve been through.’
‘We just have to hope that Patrick gets lost in the maze at some point,’ Kathleen said. ‘Then we can let him stew in there for a bit.’
Dorothy chuckled at that.
‘Right, gotta go,’ Mac said. ‘I’ll be here first thing tomorrow.’
‘Good job today,’ Cape said and Mac gave a nod.
‘Yes, better head back before it’s too dark to see,’ Dorothy said.
‘I’ll walk with you,’ Kathleen said. ‘This driveway gives me the creeps in the dark.’
‘Me too,’ Erin said. ‘Anne Marie?’
‘I’ll be right with you,’ she said.
Everybody said their goodbyes, promising to return the next day.
‘You okay?’ Cape said as he was left standing alone with Anne Marie.
‘I just wanted to apologise,’ she said.
‘Apologise? What for?’
‘When I arrived today,’ she said, sinking her hands in the pockets of her coat. ‘I was a bit grumpy.’
‘Were you?’ Cape said.
‘A bit. Maybe.’
Cape studied her, watching her face as a look of regret passed over it. ‘Well, maybe just a little.’
She nodded. ‘Sorry. I’d – erm – just got back from visiting my mum.’
‘Yes, you said.’
‘She can . . .’ She paused. ‘. . . try a person.’
‘Like Patrick’s boys?’
Anne Marie gave a little smile. ‘Something like that.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘It’s okay. I’m kind of used to it now although it’s harder since my dad died. She seems to be getting worse.’
‘Worse – how?’
‘She’s never happy.’ Anne Marie took a deep breath. ‘I took her some flowers and she made this big show about the bouquet not being big enough.’
‘Really?’
‘She’s never satisfied.’
Cape couldn’t be sure because of the fading light, but there seemed to be tears in Anne Marie’s eyes.
‘It makes me so cross that she can still upset me like this. I’m a grown woman, for goodness’ sake.’
‘Hey,’ he said, reaching a hand out to squeeze her shoulder. ‘Parents are great at riling kids. It’s all part of the job description.’
‘Do your parents still rile you?’
‘I’m afraid I’ve lost both my parents.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’
He shrugged. ‘It was a long time ago. My mum died when I was seven and my dad died a few years ago. He used to rib me all the time, though.’
‘I don’t think my mum’s ever ribbed me,’ Anne Marie said. ‘She’s rubbed me up the wrong way – a lot!’
Cape laughed and Anne Marie joined in.
‘Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh,’ he said.
‘It’s okay. I needed to.’
‘But you’ve had a good day here?’
‘I’ve had a brilliant day.’
‘Work in the garden can alleviate all sorts of trouble, I find. Everything just falls away as you focus on the job in hand. It’s like being in a gym with a therapist.’
Anne Marie laughed again.
‘I just hope Patrick manages to find his stride,’ Cape said.
‘He’s still riling everyone.’
‘Yes. It seems to be his default setting, but let’s see how things go, eh? It’s early days.’
Anne Marie nodded. ‘Right, I’d better get going,’ she said.
‘Let me give you a lift.’
‘It’s okay.’
‘It’s dark now.’
Anne Marie looked up at the inky sky as if needing confirmation. ‘Well, okay.’
She followed him as they walked to his car. ‘Sorry about the mess. I shifted some compost the other day and it’s still pretty grim in here.’ He did his best to wipe the passenger seat down and the two of them got in. ‘Whereabouts are you?’
‘On the other side of the village.’
They drove the short distance. Parvington was short on street lighting, but the cottage windows were all ablaze.
‘Here,’ Anne Marie said a moment later.
‘On the left?’
‘Yes. Thank you.’
Cape cut the engine and waited. Anne Marie didn’t move. ‘You okay?’
‘Yes.’
‘You going home?’
She nodded.
He frowned. ‘Anne Marie?’
‘Yes?’
‘Are you all right? Because there’s no rush,’ he added. ‘I can sit here a while longer if you want.’
‘No, I’m good,’ she said, suddenly springing up and opening the car door. ‘Thank you.’
‘No problem.’
‘I mean for today. For listening to me prattling on,’ she said.
‘It was my pleasure and you weren’t prattling.’
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?’
‘You bet.’
He paused for a moment, watching as she walked up the path to the imposing mock Georgian frontage of her house. The porch light was on and he waited for her to get her key out and let herself in, but she didn’t. She paused, seemingly searching the contents of her handbag. Had she lost her key? If so, why didn’t she just ring the bell? There were plenty of lights on so surely somebody was home. No, she had the keys in her hands, he saw. So what was she doing?
At that moment, she turned around and saw that he was still there and gave a funny little wave, seemingly embarrassed at having been caught doing whatever she was doing. Cape waved back and started his engine and left. As he drove out of the village towards his own home in the Thames Valley, he had the strange feeling that Anne Marie would still be loitering on her porch.
Chapter 11
The bare hedgerows of the Thames Valley lit up in Cape’s headlights as he drove along the winding roads home. Recent rain made the roads treacherous and had turned the lane to his cottage into a river. He slowed down, inching his way through the water and avoiding the potholes he knew lurked to either side of him. He’d once thought about updating his old car but, with the mass of tools he had to take everywhere and the state of the lanes in winter, it really wasn’t worth it. Plus there was the issue of money. He couldn’t justify spending on a newer vehicle.
Pulling up to his home, he saw the lights were on, but the curtains hadn’t yet been drawn. He smiled as he saw Poppy skipping into the living room. He loved that she still skipped at ten years old. He watched her for a moment before getting out of the car and going inside.
‘Daddy’s home!’ Poppy shouted, skipping down the hallway to greet him.
&nb
sp; ‘Well, hello there!’ he said with a laugh, kissing the top of her head and smelling the delicious strawberry-scented shampoo she adored.
‘Come and see this,’ she said, taking his hand and tugging him into the living room.
‘What is it?’
‘Wait and see!’
A moment later, Poppy was holding a book up to him.
‘It’s a colouring book. I didn’t think you liked those anymore?’
‘Well, I prefer making my own drawings,’ she agreed, ‘but this is different. Look.’
Cape flipped through the pages. ‘They’re all gardens,’ he said, looking at the illustrations.
‘And there’s one that’s just like our garden, Daddy.’
‘Our back garden?’
‘No, silly! Morton Hall. Look.’ She took the book from him and turned to the page, presenting it to him proudly as if she’d unearthed a great treasure.
‘Ah, topiary!’ he said.
‘They’re not as good as when you draw your topiary animals, but they’re still pretty good.’
It was then that Renee came into the room.
‘It’s spaghetti for tea, okay?’ she said.
‘Sounds great,’ Cape said. After nothing but a limp sandwich and an apple for lunch, he didn’t really mind what Renee was making for tea. ‘You okay? Had a good day?’
‘Yes, fine. You?’
‘Really good.’ He was just going to share his day with her – to tell her about Mac and his digger, finding the violin, the desecration of the yew bush and Patrick’s maze punishment – when she left the room.
‘So, how did dance class go?’ he asked Poppy.
Poppy frowned at him. ‘When?’
‘Today.’
‘But I didn’t have dance today.’
‘You didn’t?’
‘Miss Powell told us last week that the studio had to be fixed. I think the floor’s wonky or something.’
It was Cape’s turn to frown. Had he got it wrong? He wouldn’t be surprised, but he was sure Renee had told him she was taking Poppy to dance today.
He was just about to shout through to Renee when he decided to try something else first. ‘What did you get up to, then, you and Mum?’
‘We went shopping.’
‘Did you? Where?’
‘Henley.’
‘Oh, nice.’
‘Mum wanted a new suitcase. She said her old one wouldn’t make a trip to the supermarket let alone—’
‘Poppy? Have you washed your hands?’ Renee shouted through from the kitchen.
‘They’re clean!’ Poppy shouted back.
‘That wasn’t the question, was it?’
Poppy puffed her cheeks out. ‘I’d better wash them. I’ve got a bit of blue pen on my little finger anyway.’
‘Poppy?’ Cape said as she reached the door. ‘What did Mum say about her suitcase?’
‘She told me not to tell you,’ Poppy said.
Cape swallowed hard. ‘But your mummy and I don’t have secrets.’
‘She bought me my own case too. Said it was my special gift for keeping quiet.’
Cape nodded. ‘I see.’
‘Don’t tell her I said anything, will you?’ Poppy said, her forehead creasing in anxiety.
‘I won’t,’ he promised.
Sitting around the kitchen table eating their spaghetti later that evening, Cape was finding it hard to make small talk or follow what Renee was saying about some problem with local road works.
‘I swear they’re always digging that road up. Why can’t they get it right the first time?’
Cape wasn’t really listening. He could hear that she was talking, but the words meant nothing to him. The only thing he could think of was the fact that she’d lied to him. Was it the first time? Probably not. Would it be the last? He doubted it. A dark chasm was opening up inside him. He was living with a woman he couldn’t trust and she was plotting to leave him and take his daughter with her, he suddenly felt quite sure of that.
‘You’re not going,’ he suddenly blurted.
‘Pardon?’
‘You’re not going to America.’
Renee clattered her knife and fork down. ‘What are you talking about?’
Cape sighed. Wishing she’d just level with him. ‘I know about the suitcases, Renee.’
Renee immediately glared at Poppy. ‘Did you tell Daddy about the suitcases?’
‘She didn’t need to tell me,’ Cape said, covering for his daughter.
‘It just slipped out, Mummy. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s not her fault. I asked what she did when she told me she hadn’t been to dance class.’
‘I told you not to say anything,’ Renee continued.
‘I don’t think that’s the issue here,’ Cape pointed out.
‘Does this mean I don’t get to keep my suitcase?’
‘Poppy, sweetheart, why don’t you go up to your room?’ Cape said. ‘Take your colouring book with you and show me one of the gardens you’ve done later, okay?’
She nodded, her face sombre.
‘And you can keep your suitcase. Don’t worry about that,’ he added.
They both waited for Poppy to leave the room, listening to her as she collected some of her things from the living room before heading upstairs to her bedroom.
‘Are you going to send me to my room now?’ Renee asked him, standing up to clear the table.
‘No, of course not. But I’d like an explanation.’
‘About what?’ she asked, taking his plate from him and heading towards the kitchen counter.
‘About why you lied to me.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Renee? We need to talk about this.’
She moved over to the sink and clattered the plates into it. Cape got up from the table and joined her.
‘You give me no choice,’ she said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You won’t discuss this with me so I’m getting on with it on my own.’
‘But we have discussed it,’ he protested. ‘It’s just that I’m not giving you the answers you want to hear.’
He could see the tension in her shoulders and the sadness in her eyes and suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to hug her. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d hugged. They hadn’t been physically close for some time and that upset him greatly, but it was more upsetting to see her like this now.
‘Renee, I know this means a lot to you, but you can’t just go behind my back like this and organise something I’m not happy with.’
‘I don’t see why I can’t go ahead.’
He frowned. ‘Because we’re a family. We do things together. Or, at least, we should.’
‘But you don’t want to go,’ she reminded him. ‘You keep saying that to me.’
‘I’m just being honest and I’m really sorry that I can’t be more enthusiastic about going because it obviously means so much to you.’
She turned away from him, pressing her hands against the kitchen counter. ‘So, what do we do, Cape?’
He took a deep breath and moved towards her, reaching a hand out but stopping short of her shoulder before withdrawing.
‘Why don’t we wait until a time when we can all go?’ Cape suggested. ‘For a visit, I mean – to see Martina.’
‘A visit?’
‘Of course. Don’t you think you’ll want to visit first before making such a momentous decision? We can see how we feel about it then, okay?’
‘You can’t keep stalling this, Cape. I will go there.’
‘I’m not stalling. I’m trying to come up with a reasonable compromise that we’re all happy with, that’s all. I’m not trying to thwart you, Renee. Really I’m not.’
She turned back round to him and he could see that there were tears glittering in her eyes.
‘Come here,’ he said, opening his arms to her, but she shook her head and left the room.
Later that night, after Renee had gone to bed and he was quite sure she was asleep, Cap
e took the two new suitcases up into the loft. A kind person would have said that he was merely protecting his family by hiding the suitcases. But someone else might have pointed out that Renee hated the loft and never went up there because of her intense fear of spiders and that Cape’s move had accounted for that.
As he climbed back down the ladder and shut the loft door, Cape paused by Poppy’s bedroom door and peered inside at the sleeping figure of his daughter, thinking of that tiny suitcase up in the loft. If he’d had his own way, he would have taken both suitcases back to the shop for a refund or had a bonfire when Renee was out at work. But the loft would have to do for now.
Sunday was brighter but colder than Saturday. After an uneasy breakfast, Cape had persuaded Renee to let him take Poppy with him. Perhaps Renee thought this gesture would help Cape forget about the suitcase business. He had no intention of mentioning it again. It was obviously impossible for them to have a proper conversation about that particular subject.
Indeed, he and Renee hadn’t spoken much about anything over breakfast. She hadn’t shown any interest in what he might be doing at Morton Hall that day and, when he’d asked about her day, she’d shrugged her shoulders and not said anything. More than ever he could feel the rift between them widening and he had no idea what was going to happen next. All he knew was that his home no longer felt like a home. There was always an uneasy tension in the air as if they were on the verge of something monumental, something final. Up until now, he hadn’t wanted to push things to discover exactly what Renee was thinking or planning, but he had a feeling he was going to find out pretty soon. She’d lied to him: he felt he could no longer trust her, and it broke his heart to admit that he wasn’t sure that this was something they could fix. She was the mother of his daughter, but she no longer felt like his partner. A partner didn’t go behind your back. A partner didn’t lie to you. And a partner shouldn’t turn away when you tried to reach out to them.
He turned to look at Poppy now as she worked quietly alongside him in the garden. He had given her a pair of secateurs and she was wearing her very own pair of stout gardening gloves while she trimmed back a section of ivy from a wall.
He cleared his throat.
‘Pops?’ he began.
‘Yes?’
‘That suitcase business.’
‘Am I still in trouble?’
‘No! You were never in trouble.’ He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. ‘I – erm – well I want you to tell me if your mum ever talks to you about leaving, okay?’
The Heart of the Garden Page 15