by Emma Davies
‘Or someone special…’ he said. ‘You’ve taught me a lot today, Lia, and not just how to dance.’
She laughed, trying to lighten the poignancy of the moment. She didn’t think she was ready to deal with all that it implied just yet.
‘Go on with you. It was there all the time…’
‘But you saw it, didn’t you? You saw the thing that was within me and knew that you could make it come alive.’ He raised a hand to her cheek, leaving it there for just a moment, a soft look of query on his face. ‘I wish I could do the same for you, Lia… Perhaps I can, if you’ll let me.’
She pulled away, slightly unsure of what to say. Jasper couldn’t change anything, even if he wanted to. Her mum was never going to recover and it was better that she stopped deluding herself. Like Jasper had said, perhaps she did want to flee the castle walls from time to time, but that’s all it was – a fairy-tale wish.
‘I can’t,’ she replied. ‘I promised my mum I’d care for her, always, and that means at home, in the place where I grew up, where she feels safe.’
‘But have you thought what you’re going to do, Lia? When the time comes, I mean; when your mum becomes too ill for you to look after her. What happens to you then?’
Lia looked up into his eyes. ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered fearfully.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Callum hadn’t moved from his spot in the IT room all Friday, but Oscar never came. He and Lucy had planned what they would do and say, but the day crawled by and the opportunity never came. It was almost as if Oscar knew it would be bad news. And now it was Monday and the book club was due to meet in half an hour; Callum didn’t think he’d be able to look Oscar in the eye.
He was about to go and speak to Lucy again when Oscar’s distinctive shape filled the doorway, and Callum felt his heart sink. How could he tell him here, in this very public space, that his daughter didn’t want to see him? He could see that Oscar was expecting to talk to him, but folks would be gathering for the meeting soon and Lucy would be busy. He smiled a welcome; there wasn’t much else he could do.
‘My apologies,’ said Oscar. ‘I was struck down by the most ferocious head cold on Thursday and I confess I didn’t feel well enough to come along on Friday. Of course, I couldn’t ring to let you know of my absence. That would have… well, you know.’ And he tapped the side of his nose. ‘I’m much better today. I thought we might just have time to discuss things before the book club starts.’
Callum shifted uneasily in his seat. ‘I’m glad you’re feeling brighter,’ he said lamely, ‘although Lucy mentioned that she wanted a quick word with you before the meeting… Something about the next choice of book?’ He grimaced slightly. ‘I’m not sure that will give us enough time, although… Perhaps I should go and find her and then she can chat to you about whatever it is and we can take it from there. It might save us from getting interrupted.’ He flicked a glance towards the door, praying that this might get him off the hook.
Oscar sat down beside him, watching his face carefully. ‘You know, one thing about being a teacher,’ he said, ‘is that you develop a very keen ability to spot when someone is being economical with the truth. I’ve seen that look on many a boy’s face in the past.’
Callum immediately dropped his gaze.
‘Just as I can see it on your face now… And, perhaps if you look properly, you can see it on my own face, too…’ He regarded Callum’s surprised face sadly. ‘I’m afraid I did what you young people call “bottling it”,’ he added. ‘I was perfectly well on Friday, just as I am today in fact, but I had begun to dwell on my fears, convincing myself that it was all too good to be true and that what I had originally thought would be a simple conclusion to the matter could not possibly be. Now, of course I can see that I was right to doubt things.’ He patted Callum’s arm. ‘And so, now I must apologise as well because I can see I’ve put you in the most awful position these last few weeks. It was selfish of me; I should have undertaken these enquiries on my own.’
Callum was horrified. ‘No, don’t say that; you mustn’t be sorry. I’m glad I was able to help you, if only so that now you’re not facing things on your own.’ He ran a hand across his face. ‘I should have told you last week what the email really said, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, not when you’d only just learned how close your daughter was all this time. It seemed the cruellest thing, and if I’m honest… Well, I wanted to get some advice too.’
‘Advice?’
Callum nodded sheepishly. ‘I wasn’t sure how to handle this by myself… and Lucy’s a very good listener.’ He dropped her name gently into the conversation. It was best if Oscar knew everything after all.
He pondered this information for a moment. ‘I see,’ he said slowly. ‘Yes, I can understand how that would make sense. She seems to me to be a very lovely young woman.’
‘She is,’ replied Callum, holding Oscar’s look so that he could see how much he meant it. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have told her, but if I’m honest I feel happier that she knows. Lucy cares about you a great deal, Oscar – she cares about everybody and I know she wants to help. We just didn’t want to tell you like this…’
Oscar gave a soft smile. ‘I see. And what exactly are you telling me, Callum? Is this the end of the road?’
‘Not necessarily…’
‘Go on.’
‘But there are no guarantees, I wouldn’t want you to think—’
‘Whatever it is you have to say is fine, Callum. Hope is a fickle friend, I know that – but better than none, and I have prepared myself for the worst. If that is all you have to offer I must accept it, and yet… There still remains a possibility, however small, and it is this that I cannot ignore.’
Callum nodded, and took a deep breath. ‘Your daughter asked for no contact from her birth parents, and a note has been placed on her file accordingly.’ Oscar’s face remained impassive. ‘But, this request was made some years ago, and given that, the standard response is for the search organisation to enquire if these wishes still stand. It’s not unusual for people to change their minds once they know someone has been in touch.’
‘I see. And I’m to choose, am I? Whether I want to quit while I’m ahead, or go for broke and run the risk of having my hopes dashed one last, and very final, time.’
The tension surrounding Oscar was palpable, like an overinflated balloon. One more breath would be all it took for it to burst. Callum swallowed.
‘That’s pretty much the size of it, yes,’ he said.
A pause.
‘I’m an old man,’ said Oscar eventually, ‘and I will never have the opportunity or the strength to do this again. I have enjoyed a lifetime of love from a woman who has meant more to me than words could possibly express, and one I know I will meet again, in time. If that is all I’m to have then I will still die a happy man, but I’m not planning on going anywhere for a good few years yet, and if there is any possibility that I might get to meet my daughter, finally, after all these years, then I must take it. Otherwise I risk taking regret with me to the grave – and for Mary’s sake as much as for my own, I’m not prepared to do that.’ He stood slowly, straightening his waistcoat as he did so. ‘May I leave these last instructions for you to follow up on my behalf?’
Callum nodded, finding it hard to speak around the lump in his throat.
‘And perhaps, if you would be so kind, you could pass my apologies to Lucy for missing the meeting. I think a spot of fresh air would serve me better today.’
He tipped his head in grateful farewell and walked from the room, leaving Callum utterly devoid of speech and close to tears.
*
Lucy looked around the book club, from one member to the next. Understandably, Callum still had his head bent, but Hattie too looked rather dejected. Along with Lia, she was usually one of the most vocal in the group, but today she had hardly said a dozen words the entire time she had been there. In fact, out of them all, only Lia looked anim
ated – indeed quite literally as if she was dancing on air. Lucy lowered the book she was holding to her lap.
‘You know, the one thing about running your own book club is that you get to make the rules,’ she said, pleased to see heads turning to her with interest, ‘and so I’ve decided for today to ditch the literary discussion because I can see that Lia is bursting with excitement, and I, for one, am dying to get the gossip.’ She gave Lia a beaming smile. ‘Come on, tell us what’s got you all fired up. Whatever it is will be far more interesting than what we’ve been reading.’
To her delight, Lia returned the smile, leaning forward and drawing the group in. ‘Oh, I’ve had the most amazing weekend,’ she breathed. ‘You’ll never believe it when I tell you, but Jasper took me to his house and he has an actual ballroom it in, replete with wooden floor, mahogany mirrors at least fifteen feet high, and the biggest marble fireplace you’ve ever seen!’
Lucy’s was not the only jaw that dropped.
‘You went to his house?’ asked Hattie. ‘But Lia, that’s… That’s like a whole other level. You dark horse, you!’
Lia blushed. ‘Hattie, honestly! It wasn’t like that at all… Well, maybe it was a teeny tiny bit…’ She snorted with laughter. ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me.’
‘I do!’ giggled Hattie. ‘Most people call it lust.’ She stopped then, raising a hand to her mouth. ‘Am I even allowed to say the word lust in a library?’
‘You most definitely are,’ replied Lucy, grinning. ‘Come on then, Lia, don’t leave it there. Spill the beans.’
She watched as Lia sucked in a breath, trying to steady herself, her eyes still dancing with her memories. Lucy was also aware that, beside her, Callum had seemed to wake from his stupor. He would be hanging on Lia’s every word, of that she was certain, but without Oscar present he was now the only male in the group and as such was probably feeling a trifle embarrassed at the undisguised glee with which the three women were discussing Lia’s relationship with Jasper. And what about her own motives? Lucy was thrilled for her friend; Lia was really opening up and watching her bloom – there was no other word for it – gave her a huge sense of delight, but she also knew that she would try to commit her every word to memory; they were far too precious to waste.
‘Well,’ began Lia. ‘It’s a bit of a long story really…’
‘The best kind,’ urged Hattie. ‘Start at the beginning.’
The words rolled out of Lia in one almost continuous sentence. Apart from the odd interruption from Hattie, who wanted more details on all the more salacious aspects of her story, it was as if a dam had been breached in Lia’s reserve and the outpour was unstoppable. When she got to the part about Jasper’s house, there was a collective intake of breath at her description of it, but their excitement was nothing compared to that on Lia’s face as she relayed what had happened on the hillside and her subsequent eureka moment while teaching Jasper to dance.
It was at this point that Lucy suddenly realised what was missing; in every previous conversation they had shared about dancing, Lia’s words had been coloured by the acute longing that she felt. Today, though, that longing was no longer there and Lucy realised that Lia no longer yearned to dance because she was dancing. She was feeling exactly as she had dreamed she would for all those years. Lucy had to cough to hide the sudden swell of emotion that rose within her.
By the time Lia had finished, Hattie all but clapped, her hands clasped together in excitement. ‘Does this mean that you’re going to dance at the ball?’ she urged. ‘Because, if it does, I’m going to make you the most amazing dress you’ve ever seen!’
‘But you’ve already given me an amazing dress, Hattie,’ protested Lia.
‘That didn’t answer my question,’ she replied pointedly.
Lia screwed up her face. ‘I must be mad,’ she confessed, ‘but yes, I’ve said I’ll dance.’
‘I knew it!’ Hattie screamed, launching herself out of her seat and throwing her arms around Lia. ‘Oh, I’m so happy for you.’
Lucy suddenly felt as if she were witnessing everything from a slight distance, a bit like watching a film, and it gave her the most peculiar feeling – not altogether unpleasant, but one that sent tingles down her spine, nonetheless. She turned to look at Callum, only to find that he was regarding her intently, and she quickly looked away as the thoughts that had been swirling inconclusively around her brain solidified into a single truth.
She felt her cheeks grow hot and was relieved when Hattie alerted her to the fact that their time was up. Usually, the others stayed to help clear away the refreshments, but today Lucy insisted that she do it herself. She needed some space and time to think and the few minutes she would have alone doing the washing-up might be the only opportunity she had for a while. She hugged both Lia and Hattie and said goodbye, promising to catch up with them soon, and gratefully closed the kitchen door behind her.
She turned on the hot tap and watched as the jet of water turned the washing-up liquid into a mass of bubbles. She let her mind quieten as she stared at the iridescent patterns forming in between the suds, only reaching to turn off the tap once the water was in danger of overflowing the bowl. She plunged her hands into it, feeling the heat calm her. She didn’t know why she was feeling this way, but the turn of events in Lia’s life seemed extraordinary and Lucy was rather overwhelmed.
Mindful of the time, she added the mugs to the water and began to wash them. At any moment Rachel would stick her head around the door to ‘politely’ enquire how much longer she was likely to be. She often did this, and it irritated Lucy no end. She had a reply ready on her lips when she heard the door open, but was surprised to hear someone else’s voice.
‘Sorry, is it okay for me to come in here?’
Lucy placed the mug she was holding onto the draining board. ‘Of course,’ she replied as evenly as she could. ‘Is everything all right, Lia?’
The huge smile was still in place. ‘I just wanted to say a special thank-you,’ she said. ‘To you, in particular. I mean, if it wasn’t for you encouraging me to take up dancing, none of this would be happening right now. You found the course for me, got Hattie to come along – even found those wonderful books for Mum to read… It’s all a bit scary, but nothing like this has ever happened to me before.’ She came further into the room. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’
And before Lucy knew it Lia had flung her arms around her.
‘Oh, now I’ve dripped water all down the back of your coat,’ said Lucy, trying her best to keep her wet hands away from Lia’s back.
‘I don’t care,’ she declared. ‘What’s a little water between friends? And you’ve been such a good friend, Lucy. I can’t believe how much you’ve done for me. Hattie as well, but if you hadn’t started it all off, well… I know that none of this might lead anywhere, but even if just a few dances are all, then at least I’ll have had those. That, and the best few weeks ever. It’s given me a glimpse of what life should be all about, that there are choices and things I can change. I’ve never felt this way before.’
Lucy stared at her. She had been feeling so horribly guilty, so overwhelmed by the enormity of what she had done and the worry of it all going catastrophically wrong, but here was Lia, ecstatic, elated and thanking her. So maybe she had helped, after all. And if she had helped Lia, could she still help Oscar and Callum? Or even, maybe, herself…
Chapter Twenty-Eight
At first, Hattie had been buoyed by the joy of hearing Lia so happy. Her steps had been light, her mood cheerful as she thought of the delight on Lia’s face and the excitement in her voice. But before she had even got to the end of the road she felt her mood begin to darken again as she remembered why she hadn’t been at all happy when she left the house this morning…
Did seeing someone else’s good mood automatically highlight the fact that your own was considerably worse, or was it just that the issues Hattie was struggling with were too awful to simply fade away as soon as som
ething better came along? Without even thinking, she opened the gate and entered the park. There were a few hardy souls there, but it was not a day for lingering, and the folks she did see were walking with purpose. She hadn’t intended to stop until she saw a lone figure seated on the bench nearest the play area. Oscar didn’t look like someone who wanted company, but she couldn’t pass by without saying anything.
‘I missed you at the book club today,’ she said. ‘I wondered, perhaps, if you weren’t feeling very well. There’s a hideous flu bug doing the rounds.’
Oscar looked up, taking a moment to focus on her face. He smiled, a little sadly she thought.
‘Not unwell, no. Just a trifle out of sorts.’
‘Well that makes two of us then,’ she said, plonking herself down on the bench next to him. ‘I wasn’t looking forward to having to be jolly either, as it happens, but Lia had some lovely news about her and Jasper – and the dancing of course – and it cheered me up a bit.’ She pulled her coat around her, tugging the sleeves down over her hands. ‘Trouble is, now I feel flat as a pancake again. Perhaps it’s catching?’
‘It’s a melancholy sort of day,’ Oscar replied, raising his eyes heavenward.
‘Cold too. But it’s not that – not in my case anyway.’
‘Mine neither,’ admitted Oscar. ‘I always thought when I was younger that things would be so much simpler in old age. All life’s problems solved or healed by the passage of time, but now I find the reverse to be true. I had more energy to deal with things then, less time to dwell on what might have been.’ He turned to Hattie and smiled. ‘Always live your life in the present, my dear,’ he said, ‘and never put off doing something that’s important. In my experience, these things rarely go away. You learn to live with them, or they fade and you can pretend they’re not really there, and then one day you’ll be as old as I am, and find yourself still wrestling with them.’