by Susan Lewis
Vivi spluttered on a laugh, and eased herself up on one elbow.
‘How are you feeling?’ Michelle asked.
‘OK, I think.’ She was definitely breathing easily, and her senses seemed clear. ‘My ICD didn’t activate, did it?’ No, of course not, she’d remember if it had.
‘Can I get you anything?’ Michelle asked.
Seeing the pitcher of iced tea still on the table, Vivi gestured to it and swung her feet carefully to the floor. ‘Well,’ she said, as Michelle handed her a glass, ‘I guess he can’t be in any doubt now that I’m a faint heart. Did he call you to ask you to come?’
‘Yes. He had to leave, something to do with a horse, so I said I’d stay with you until your mother gets home.’
Vivi sighed despairingly. ‘God, what a burden I am.’
‘That’s not how he described you,’ Michelle assured her. ‘Actually, he didn’t describe you at all, apart from as someone he’d bored senseless.’
Laughing, Vivi said, ‘He told me about Deerwood. It sounds fascinating. I can’t believe you’ve never mentioned it.’
Michelle shrugged. ‘It’s more Sam’s thing than mine, and unless you’re in that world …’
‘Have you been there?’
‘A few times. It’s a crazy place, or that’s how it seems on the surface, but what it’s achieving is nothing short of amazing. You’d love his sisters, and his mum, Shelley. Everyone does.’
Remembering how he’d said she should visit Deerwood, Vivi felt sure he wasn’t the type to throw out empty invitations or to string her along for the sake of the moment. He’d seemed to enjoy the time they’d spent together, and she couldn’t stop herself hoping she’d see him again. To try to resist it would be pointless, she realized. She didn’t have the will, and even if she did she could already sense him walking all over it.
Looking at Michelle, she said, ‘I don’t really understand what’s happening. He’s … I don’t know what he is, apart from … He said I’m not like anyone he’s met before, and that’s how I think of him.’ Quite suddenly her eyes filled with tears, hot and burning, as the futility of it all swept in to eclipse the dream and bring her harshly back to reality. ‘I don’t know whether fate’s being spectacularly cruel,’ she said, as Michelle squeezed her hand, ‘or if it’s decided to let me have a taste of something truly special before it’s too late. Which is spectacularly cruel.’ She frowned in confusion, in hope, dismay, and the kind of longing that shouldn’t be in her world now. ‘Am I overstating things?’ she asked softly. ‘Reading too much into something that’s hardly had the chance to be anything? I’m finding it almost impossible to get a proper perspective on my feelings, or understanding, or anything else that’s going on. All I can tell you is that now he’s gone he feels like a dream, but when he was here it was as though nothing else was real.’ Her eyes went to Michelle’s. ‘Does that sound weird?’ she asked anxiously.
‘No,’ Michelle smiled, ‘it doesn’t sound weird at all.’
Josh came again the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that. He stayed only an hour or two, but during that time they talked as easily as if they’d known one another for years. Sometimes they walked on the beach, but mostly they lounged comfortably in her sitting room. They rarely took their eyes from each other, as though if they did one of them might disappear or somehow cease to be real. They shared so many stories about themselves and those they loved that Vivi felt sure they’d run out of words soon, but this never seemed to happen.
If she got tired he sat with her quietly and they listened to music, or watched wildlife videos on YouTube – his favourite, of course, but she was coming to love them too. On the only occasion her device fired – out of the blue, for she’d simply been sitting on the floor beside him browsing a selection of audio books – he’d put the iPad down and lifted her up onto the sofa. He hadn’t panicked or fussed, had merely waited for her to tell him what she needed him to do.
She soon recovered, physically, but the reminder of her frailty left her shaken emotionally, and even more fearful of the future now that he was in her life. To try to help his understanding of her situation she showed him Jim Lynskey’s blog, not only because she was starting to feel an affinity with the young lad waiting for a heart transplant, but because he was already living with a VAD – the dreaded yet crucial device she had to look forward to unless fate decided to take her a different route. As soon as Josh finished reading Jim’s story he suggested they contact him to see if they could help with his campaign for organ donation. They did, right away, but so far they hadn’t had a reply.
On the Saturday of their first week together, at Vivi’s insistence, he brought his dog with him. She was thrilled to discover that Ellie, the lurcher spaniel cross, was just as he’d described her – minus an ear, vaguely cross-eyed, and willing to do just about anything Josh asked of her. Apparently an old lady from a village near Deerwood had willed her beloved pet to him, certain that no one would take better care of her than a vet.
Ellie clearly adored her new master, and Vivi adored the dog, because it was impossible not to. She was a shaggy mass of champagne-coloured fur with black and white patches around her eyes and a shyly wagging tail that speeded up impressively any time someone showed her affection – or a ball.
As well as the mutt, he brought a large wicker hamper. It contained a flask of iced tea, made from Deerwood strawberries, a small loaf of wholemeal bread, fresh that morning from the oven of a seventeen-year-old resident who’d developed a passion for baking; a summer salad from his grandfather’s raised beds; two succulent free-range chicken breasts, a sliver of goat’s cheese and an extremely wholesome selection of fresh berries with a blob each of his grandmother’s goat’s-milk yoghurt.
Vivi had no idea if he’d told his family where he was taking this delicious picnic, nor did she ask. It didn’t matter, she told herself. All that did was that he was here.
The day was so warm they decided to wander over to the dunes, where he laid out a blanket, and they sat down to enjoy the sea air, wholesome food and rhythmic hum of the waves. In no time at all he was entertaining her with the latest tales of Deerwood’s residents, and as she ate and drank and shared ball-throwing duties for Ellie she felt so at one with the world that she almost missed the name of his very first pet lamb.
‘Steven!’ she laughed, disbelievingly. ‘You had a lamb called Steven?’
Looking offended, he said, ‘I thought it was a very good name myself, and he always seemed to like it. He answered to it, anyway, and my piglets, Wonka and Bucket, absolutely understood how honoured they were to be named after such iconic characters.’
Loving every minute of this, she said, ‘Do you still name all the animals?’
‘Well, it’s more my nephews’ and niece’s department these days, however the Border collie – the farm’s top dog – is always called Dodgy.’
Vivi eyes sparkled. ‘No, you can’t,’ she protested.
Appearing amazed that she had issue with it, he said, ‘The Dodgy we have now is our fifth. His predecessors are all residing in Dodgy Dip, a hallowed spot on the farm where they’re buried. Anyone who wants to can go and sit quietly for an hour or two to reflect on whatever they need to reflect on. The Dodgy ghosts have a way of rounding up your troubles and putting them to bed. It’s very relaxing, and good for the soul.’
‘So you’re a regular?’
‘No, but everyone tells me I should be.’ Taking a couple of raspberries from the bowl he popped one into his mouth, and the other into hers, letting his fingers linger a moment on her lips.
‘So why the name Dodgy?’ she asked huskily, savouring his touch far more than the fruit.
He smiled. ‘Apparently, when my parents took over the farm, they discovered that my great-uncle had named the sheepdog of the time Todger.’
She choked on a laugh.
‘So feeling this might not be such a suitable name for children to be yelling around the countryside my
father changed it to Dodger, and from there it got shortened to Dodgy. Are you comfortable there?’
‘Very, thank you.’
‘Good, because your elbow is carving a niche into my thigh.’
Taking the hint, she shifted onto her back and gazed dreamily up at the sky, seeing nothing but happiness.
He gazed down at her and waited for her eyes to come to his. When they did she felt her smile fading as her heartbeat faltered. She wanted him so much, so badly, and she could see that it was the same for him. She imagined him touching and kissing her, fitting the length of himself against her, pulling her in tightly …
He was the first to break away, releasing her from the intensity of the moment, picking up Ellie’s ball and hurling it down to the beach. Vivi turned to watch the dog run and after a while, when she spotted a small boy and his father trying to fly a kite, she was able to smile.
‘It’s funny, isn’t it,’ he remarked, ‘how children think their fathers can do anything, even launch a kite when there’s no wind? Funnier still is the way fathers still give it a go.’
She was watching him again, and imagining him as a young boy growing up without his dad, and feeling the loneliness of it stealing through her, as it was surely stealing through him. ‘Tell me about your father and what you remember of him,’ she said softly.
He seemed to consider it for a moment, but in the end he said, ‘Why don’t you tell me about yours? You never mention him.’
Her throat dried as she closed her eyes, trying to stop his question casting a shadow on the day. But nothing could do that while they were together like this. ‘I’ve no idea who my father is,’ she replied frankly. ‘My mother won’t tell me; she won’t even discuss it, so I’ve decided to try and find him for myself. Hence the DNA test Michelle mentioned at the barbecue.’
He listened quietly, his eyes moving from hers to her mouth and back again as she told him about the terrible arguments she’d had with her mother over the years; about the wondering if her father was a married man, a rapist, or one of many her mother had slept with without bothering to ask for names.
‘I’m pretty sure she does know who he is,’ she said, wondering what he was thinking. He was lying on his side now, his head propped on one hand as he continued to look at her in a way that seemed to see past her words, to a place she wasn’t even sure about herself.
‘Do you think he knows about you?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘I’ve no idea. If he does then he’s never tried to get in touch, or not that I know of, and it hasn’t actually been difficult since I left home. So maybe I should just accept that he’s either dead, or not interested in me, and move on with my life. On the other hand, if he doesn’t know about me …’ She inhaled deeply. ‘If he doesn’t, there’s nothing to say he’d want to, and is it really such a great idea to turn up on his doorstep saying, “Surprise, I’m your daughter, but don’t worry I won’t be around much longer, just wanted to say hi.”’
Reaching out a hand, he smoothed tendrils of hair from her face, and for a moment she thought he might lean forward and kiss her. She wanted it even more than she feared it, but if he did they both knew it wouldn’t stop there … Though they hadn’t actually discussed the dangers of physical intimacy, what the adrenalin rush might do to her heart, she knew he understood and felt as wretched about it as she surely did.
Hearing someone calling her name, she turned to see Michelle wading through the marram grass towards them. ‘I hope I haven’t chosen a bad moment,’ she grimaced, sinking down beside them.
Without looking at Josh, Vivi said, ‘It’s fine. Where are the children?’
‘With my parents. Am I too early? I am, aren’t I? We were supposed to be going into town, remember?’
Vivi hadn’t forgotten, she’d simply lost track of the time.
‘I should go,’ Josh said, ruffling Ellie’s one ear as he got to his feet. ‘I’m due at the Bleasdales in an hour.’
Michelle looked up at him, squinting against the sun. ‘Humphrey Bleasdale?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘It’s time for his horses to have their jabs. Do you know the family?’
Michelle shrugged. ‘Only by name, and of course because of what happened to one of their sons. I can’t recall the details now, it was quite a long time ago, but I remember it was all over the news. Did you know him?’
Josh nodded grimly. ‘Yes, I did,’ he replied, and throwing Ellie’s ball in the direction of the car he gathered up the remains of the picnic, said a friendly farewell and left.
Michelle turned to Vivi. ‘Is everything all right between you guys?’ she asked curiously.
Vivi was still watching him, wondering if he’d look back and wave before driving off. ‘It’s strange and awful and wonderful,’ she replied, ‘and still so unbearably confusing that I hardly know what to think or do.’
Michelle said, ‘I think it’s the same for him. Have you talked about your feelings at all?’
Vivi shook her head. ‘And I’m not sure that we should. It might make things even more difficult … But then I think, what the hell, why don’t we just give in to it and be together properly? What’s the worst it can do?’
Michelle’s eyebrows rose in caution.
‘OK, but would one kiss really be the end of me?’ Vivi demanded in frustration. ‘No, of course not, the trouble is it wouldn’t stop there, and we both know it.’
Watching Josh trying to scoot Ellie out of the driver’s seat, Michelle said, ‘So tell me what you do talk about?’
Vivi was again willing him to look back. ‘Everything,’ she replied, ‘but mostly Deerwood, I guess. Actually, I told him about my father today.’
Michelle looked interested. ‘What did he say?’
Vivi shrugged. ‘What could he say?’ After a beat she said, ‘It’s odd how on one level we seem able to discuss just about anything, but on another it’s like we’ve created barriers without even trying. I’m not just talking about our relationship and what it really is, or where it can go, there are other things we don’t mention.’
‘Such as?’
‘Well, he knows I haven’t told Mum about him, and I’m sure he hasn’t discussed me with his family either.’ She looked at Michelle. ‘Do you know if he has?’
Michelle shook her head.
‘He brought a picnic today. It was wonderful. Everything was from the farm; there was even strawberry iced tea. Someone must have wondered where he was going with it; who it was for. They might even have put it together for him.’
‘Maybe they asked and he told them.’
Vivi hadn’t considered that.
‘Do you mind if he didn’t tell them?’
Vivi pondered the question. ‘I can understand why he wouldn’t want to discuss me,’ she said. ‘I mean, how do you tell your family that you’re getting involved with someone who’s like me?’ And they were involved, she was in no doubt about that, very much involved in fact, in ways too esoteric and even transcendent to grasp with words.
She watched him drive away and felt strangely abandoned and unsettled by his failure to look her way.
After a while Michelle said, ‘Have you arranged to see him again?’
‘Not yet.’ For a moment she felt afraid that it wouldn’t happen, that she’d just seen him for the very last time. She turned to Michelle. ‘He seemed different when he left just now, or was it my imagination?’
Michelle said, ‘Maybe it was my mention of Humphrey Bleasdale. Do you remember what happened? It was a long time ago. We were still at school. One of his twin sons, Matthew, was murdered.’
Vivi did remember it, but so vaguely that there were no details in her mind to give it any sort of substance.
‘Maybe he was a friend of Josh’s,’ Michelle mused. ‘They were certainly neighbours, although Matthew Bleasdale must have been at least ten or fifteen years older. Still, that might account for how distracted he seemed when he left. I probably shouldn’t have brought it up.’
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Vivi got to her feet and enjoyed the luxury of stretching out her limbs. ‘I’m sure he’ll forgive you,’ she said, feeling certain he would, if that was indeed what had seemed to sober his mood. She guessed it would sober her too if she’d just been reminded, out of the blue, about a friend who’d been murdered.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
VIVIENNE
Present Day
Josh was visibly tired – understandable after being up most of the night saving the lives of a Hereford cow and her calf – but amusement was so alive in his sleepy eyes that Vivienne had to laugh too.
‘Tell me what you’re finding so funny,’ she challenged, as he poured more iced tea into their glasses. Though it was cooler today, they were outside on the back patio at her mother’s house, protected from the rain by the tiled roof of the veranda, and enjoying the wonderfully heady scents flowing in from the gardens and nearby cliffs.
‘I’m finding it interesting,’ he replied, ‘that you didn’t Google Deerwood, but you did Google the Bleasdales and all that business so many years ago that I can hardly remember now.’
She was surprised. ‘So he wasn’t a friend of yours?’
He shook his head. ‘For a start he was quite a bit older than me, and I’m not sure I actually met him more than a handful of times. On those that I did I never came away liking him much.’
‘So do you think he was murdered?’
He shrugged. ‘Nothing was ever proved, as far as I know, but everyone knew it wasn’t an accident.’
She sat with that for a moment. ‘So why did it seem to upset you when Michelle brought it up at the weekend?’ she asked.
He regarded her in confusion. ‘Did I seem upset?’
‘OK, distracted.’
He shrugged. ‘I know I didn’t want to leave you,’ he said, ‘and I guess I wasn’t thrilled about having to go to Dean Manor. It isn’t my favourite place.’ He drank deeply and put his glass down. ‘Humphrey’s never been the same since Matthew died and his other two sons were carted off to prison,’ he explained. ‘The grief and the shame were unbearable for the old chap. From what my mother and uncle tell me he was pretty widely detested back when my parents first took over Deerwood, but he changed after my father died. He found some humanity, apparently, but since his own tragedies he’s been going into a steady decline. Jemmie, his wife, is … What is Jemmie? She’s great one day, somewhere else in her head the next. Fiona, their daughter, and her husband more or less run the estate now.’