Fantasy House

by Ruth Hay

  Most of the occupants were middle aged or older. Mavis soon found conversation easy among the mainly American holidaymakers, all of whom seemed to be regulars. Both Eve and Jannice were told not to advertise the resort when they returned home. “We want to keep this place secret as long as possible. It’s truly unique.”

  The barbecue food was something called ‘jerk chicken’ as well as the usual burgers and hotdogs and fruit kebabs. Everything tasted delicious. Mavis got her rum cocktail in a half shell and insisted she would have one every day.

  Eve talked to the servers about food on the island and was informed about a mid-week market in a small village nearby where she could see and sample all the local produce.

  Jannice got into conversation with one of the golfers who was Canadian, and interested in her accent and story.

  “My grandparents came from Ireland. A few years back my son and I travelled to County Antrim and explored the area. Magnificent scenery! I never saw such green grass and the high cliffs were awe inspiring. I’d go back in a heartbeat, but likely not in winter!”

  Jannice had to confess all she knew about her parents’ homeland was from stories and a few photographs. Mitchell was charmed by her innocence. Most people he met on holiday tried to make out they had been everywhere and seen everything. This woman was a pleasant change. He encouraged her to keep talking about herself and soon heard about Harmony House and how she had financed the move after discovering a wardrobe full of antique clothing in the attic of her old house.

  Mitchell Delaney was an author; a man deeply interested in stories and he was captivated by all he heard from Jannice O’Connor. He thought she was a holiday bonus and more fascinating than his golf buddies by a long shot. He planned to spend more time with this charming woman, if time permitted.

  Jannice had no idea she had made such an impression. She thought, in the dimming light, he was an elderly man and a good listener but she took note of his name for their next encounter.

  Vilma sat back with a full plate and a rum drink and talked to one of the couples who had been staying in their cottage for a week already. She asked about the weather and was informed there had been a day of squalls and rain but clear skies ever since. The husband was a bit of a weather watcher and said he charted any storms in the area and all was calm for the foreseeable future.

  “This is a particularly well sheltered bay. We should not get too much wave action here. I have my binoculars and I can read cloud formations. Just ask me for an update at any time.”

  Full of good food, good conversation and not a little alcohol, the quartet made their way slowly along the sand, arm in arm, to their cottages which were now lit with blazing electric lights extending along the steps and walkways.

  Vilma suggested everyone get ready for bed and then assemble back on the main deck for a few moments. This they did, wondering what she had in mind to draw an end to an incredible first day.

  When all were seated, Vilma went indoors for a moment and switched off the lights.

  She heard the gasps of astonishment as eyes became adjusted to the star display above their heads.

  The sky was dark as ink, providing a velvet background to a host of bright stars twinkling above in a never-ending panorama .

  It was breathtaking.

  “I swear I think I can see colours in those stars,” breathed Mavis.

  “Probably planets, then,” offered Eve.

  “There are star clusters, like the astrological signs.”

  Jannice said nothing. She was fast asleep.

  Vilma sent the others tiptoeing away and restored the guide lights for them. She left Jannice dreaming while she checked everything was tidy, and turned down their beds. After a few more minutes she gently wakened Jannice and escorted her to her luxurious bed where she sank down into the pillows with a sigh of pure contentment.

  Vilma soon followed suit. Her last thought before she drifted away into sleep was how glad she was to be in Jamaica with these women. There were days still to come when, undoubtedly, wonderful memories would be made by all of them, herself included.

  Vilma’s prediction was right on target although she could not have known what twists and turns were to follow.

  The first full day was even better. Anticipating some of the delights this sheltered spot offered made everything more special. Jannice had her early morning swim and sat back on a towel to get a little sun before the day was too hot for her skin. Mitchell Delaney, another early riser, saw her there and thought he would take a stroll on the sand the next day to continue their conversation.

  Vilma slept late and only wakened when Jannice put on coffee.

  Mavis and Eve were keen to have a swim when the sun was up and wished for nothing more than coffee and fruit until lunch.

  The morning stretched before them like a wonderful gift. Nothing to do. Nothing to plan. Just relaxing on the deck and watching birds over the sea and listening to jungle sounds in the forested area further up the rise behind them. No one wanted to leave. Vilma mentioned a variety of trips but the only one she could see any interest in, was a ride in a glass-bottom boat to view the spectacular sea creatures living in the deeper waters. She made a call to book that trip and settled back to get the sun after unpacking and displaying the range of bright cover-ups she had brought with her.

  “No one gets a sunburn on my watch,” she declared. “I’ll be guarding you, Jannice, but all of us need to be careful here. Factor 50 for a day or two is mandatory! A bad sunburn can spoil the whole week.”

  “Yes, Ma’am!” murmured Jannice, from under a sombrero-styled hat that shaded most of her.

  Eve had mentioned to Mavis that a walk along the beach would reveal the other cottages, most of which were different in style to their own. They set off together in the late morning and rejoiced in the continuing splendour of their surroundings. Mavis checked to see if Vilma’s prediction of an immaculate beach after the barbecue was correct, and found it in pristine condition.

  “The staff here are all Jamaicans. It’s wonderful how cheerful they are.”

  “Living among this beautiful scenery must help, but I will admit it’s a lesson to me not to be so morose all the time.”

  “Eve, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve had plenty to be sad about. Your divorce will be completed soon and you are happy at Harmony House? Am I right?”

  “Of course! Please don’t think I am complaining about that. It’s a miracle to be living safe with you all. I couldn’t ask for more.”

  “I am glad. So, what’s been holding you back, Eve?”

  They were approaching the end of the beach where rocks and land converged to make a natural barrier.

  Eve stooped to uncover shells brought here by the waves, and found a place to sit on a flatter rock. She patted the spot next to her as an invitation to Mavis.

  “I guess it’s time to talk about this. I couldn’t find a better person than you, Mavis, and I know you have been worrying about me.”

  “Not worrying exactly. I’d say I have been waiting.”

  “Well, the waiting is over. I can share my secrets here and the warm breeze will take them away forever.”

  Mavis had not suspected this poetic strain in Eve but she felt she was correct. Now was the time.

  “You see, at first I blamed myself for everything that happened with Howard Dobrinski and I was paralysed. But I can see more clearly since time has passed. What bothers me at this point is the knowledge that I chose this man. I stayed married to him even through the abuse that could have killed me. Why could I not extract myself from the situation? What kind of coward am I? How could I lose my real self to the degree that I did, and how can I trust it won’t happen again?”

  Mavis took a deep breath and tried to absorb how far Eve had come in her thinking. She had reached this conclusion all alone which spoke highly of her self knowledge. Mavis was well aware how important her next words would be. She thought carefully while the breeze wafted over them bringing s
oothing sounds and calming scents from land and sea.

  “Eve, you have done very well to reach this point in your thinking. I can tell you, from my long experience, you are almost there, back to mental health and happiness. You have only one more step to take.”

  She knew Eve was intent on her words. She could feel the tension in the body beside her. Mavis took Eve’s hand and turned it over to reveal the shell she was holding tightly.

  “You found this shell partly-buried in the sand. By releasing it you brought it into a new environment where we can admire its structure and its seemingly fragile beauty. It has survived a perilous journey from the depth of the ocean so it’s not as fragile as it may seem. In other words it could be perceived as a survivor.”

  “You mean I am like a shell?”

  Eve laughed and Mavis took it as a good sign. Humour was the best predictor of health restored.

  “Exactly! You have survived. All you need now is to believe in that survival. Have confidence in your good sense and in what you have learned.

  I think there will, some day, be a new man in your life, Eve, and he will be everything you ever wanted. But if I am wrong, you will still be one of the bravest and most sensible, caring women I have ever met.”

  Eve did not respond and Mavis dared not move. This was a huge moment. If she had said it correctly, Eve should be able to begin moving on, leaving the trauma behind her.

  Seconds sped by. The sun grew warmer. Nothing changed.

  At last Eve spoke.

  “I am going to hold on to this shell and the lesson it represents. Mavis, you were there during the most devastating incident in my life. I trust you as I trust no one else. Thank you is not enough but it is all I can say.”

  Mavis let out a huge gust of held-in air.

  “Good enough! Let’s move along. I am dying for a drink of that fresh juice and whatever Vilma has in mind for lunch. Introspection always makes me hungry!”

  They linked hands and ran like two schoolgirls along the sand. The weather-watching man put down his binoculars and remarked to his wife that the newcomers were a happy bunch of Canadians if these two were anything to go by.

  Chapter 28

  Vilma Smith really began to relax when she saw how contented her companions were. She tried to get them interested in trips out of the resort but other than a visit to the nearby village, where Eve bought small sample pots of paint and several brushes, and Jannice found a new hat even larger than the first, no one wanted to go away from the paradise beach.

  “You have to understand, Vilma. This is a fantasy for us. Who wants to interrupt a fantasy with crowds of people and noisy bus transport. We have the famous Blue Mountain coffee right here in our cottages.

  Why would we need to go further? Jamaica’s true splendour is here.”

  Since the others agreed with Mavis, Vilma stopped arguing. Of course, they were right. What else could compare?

  Eve was sketching and painting.

  Mavis was shadowing one of the Jamaican gardeners to see what he knew about growing tropical plants.

  Jannice disappeared to another cottage for long periods of time.

  Vilma was alone to think in peace.

  They all congregated each night to watch the spectacle in the sky from the sun setting beneath the sea to the spectacular astrological star show over the land.

  Vilma’s thinking gradually grew more focussed. The surroundings were ideal for silent contemplation.

  For the first time in months I am alone. I miss my dogs so much. I left them behind without knowing how much I would miss them. They have become such a part of my life and I abandoned them to a man I scarcely know and who has some kind of issue in his past life related to his previous job. What have I done? Is Astrid all right? Does Andy remember she likes to sleep on his bed for an hour before she goes to her cage? Is Oscar making friends with Andy?

  After an hour or three of this recurring theme, Vilma realized she was not going to get rid of her worries until she reassured herself of the situation back home at Andy’s farmhouse.

  When she came to this conclusion, it was with the knowledge she would have to go to great lengths to get a satellite connection and to also work out the timing for a period when Andy would be home with her dogs.

  The glass-bottom boat excursion was out of a huge resort further along the coastline at Ocho Rios town.

  It would be the only chance for a WiFi network. She planned to see her companions settled on the tour boat and then use the time to call Andy. Her excuse would be that she had seen the multi-coloured fish display many times before.

  The three women duly went off without a complaint and Vilma rushed into the reception desk of the hotel with her request. She was lucky. The satellite link was active. She paid the charge and went off to a quiet corner and dialled. The ringing sounded endless. Was Andy in the barn training the dogs? She had not accounted for that likely possibility. Was there a horrible snow storm raging in the London area? Were the dogs and Andy snowed in? Did she leave enough dog food?

  Her pulse began to race in concert with every new ring. Her time would be up before she could get through and she would know nothing after all. How could she stand this?

  When she was on the verge of impotent despair, the ringing ceased and a voice answered.

  “Snow removal services. Andy Patterson here.”

  “Thank God! It’s Vilma. I don’t have much time, Andy. How are the dogs?”

  “Are you calling from Jamaica? The line is not clear. Can you hear me?”

  “Yes. How is everything?”

  “The dogs are doing well. They enjoy the extra training and the cold does not bother them.

  You sent too much food of course. When are you coming home?”

  “A few days yet. I’ll call when we get back to Harmony House. It’s good to hear your voice.”

  “Right. The line is breaking up. I’ll say goodbye now.”

  And he was gone.

  She looked around the marble-floored lounge with the soft sofas and the potted palms and could hardly believe where she was. For those few moments she had been in that grim farmhouse watching Andy Patterson standing by the table near the old front door where the phone was placed. A shiver ran through her as she thought of the contrast between the icy cold of that place and the enveloping warmth here.

  Her feelings were in turmoil. She had believed she was only concerned about the dogs but when she heard his voice, so masculine and so controlled and, let’s face it, so casual and unconcerned, she suddenly realized she had wanted to hear him speak more than anything. This was disturbing.

  She walked over to the bar and ordered a rum punch, then, as the shiver was still with her, she also ordered tea and pastries. She had thinking to do. Thinking about Andy Patterson and what had just happened on the phone. Could it be she had somehow, someway, developed an attraction to him?

  Not likely. She had sworn off men forever. It must be something to do with gratitude for what he did with the dogs.

  That’s it! Much more likely. Andy is not any woman’s first choice. Too many problems there. That’s madness.

  And yet, there was a lingering something disturbing that she sensed but could not define.

  It will sort itself out in the clear northern light when I get home.

  She firmly and decisively put the whole issue behind her. The dogs were fine.

  She drank down the rum and followed it with two cups of tea. She would just take a quick nap in this ultra comfy chair until her companions returned.

  Andy Patterson was not a man given to fantasies of any kind but he was seriously disturbed by the phone call out of the blue. As if they were aware of his emotion, Astrid and Oscar came close and rubbed up against his knees. Hearing Vilma Smith’s voice from so far away brought into focus something that had grown in the back of his mind since the dogs arrived. He loved having the company. The dogs were occupying that dark part of his brain that faltered and despaired during the worst of w
inter. It was what the dogs brought with them that mystified him.

  They smelled like their owner. He thought at first it was some kind of dog spray on their fur but after walks outside the scent remained. It was possibly some washing soap smell on the dogs’ beds or blankets that persisted. It was getting him riled up. He could not separate the scent from thoughts of Vilma. Her look, her sound, her positive attitude were ever-present these days.

  In some ways he would be glad to return the animals and recover his accustomed solitude. He would shut down the house and spend the winter nights alone again. But there was always the threat of the dark. In the dark were things he could not bear to see.

  It was in winter the accident happened. He would re-run the incident over and over hoping against hope to change the inevitable. He was called out with King to search the property of a suspect who had been arrested for a traffic violation. The officers believed the man was under the influence of drugs. King was the unit’s best sniffer dog and Andy trusted his instincts completely.

  They entered the house together after the team had swept it for occupants and firearms. Nothing of drug paraphernalia had been found. King quickly ran through the first floor rooms with his nose to the ground, then he climbed the stairs to the second level and proceeded to investigate the two bedrooms.

  No sign from King to indicate drugs. He was on a long lead to give him freedom to move around when he went into the washroom and stopped, then barked once and began to back out. It was the signal Andy was waiting for. He asked his dog to go inside again to identify the exact place. King looked up at him and whined. This was most unusual. To his eternal shame, Andy pushed the dog forward with his leg and King obeyed.

  The bathroom exploded in a wave of flame. The dog’s weight on the floor must have triggered a concealed device designed to erase all evidence. King’s body took the brunt of the explosion and he writhed in extreme pain while his body burned right in front of his handler. Andy pulled on the lead automatically, and tried to get to him. His legs were badly burned in the attempt. There was nothing to be done. King was gone in the most horrible way possible. When the rest of the team arrived upstairs it was too late to do anything.