‘Cool!’ Natasha jumped up.
Jordan, though, wasn’t so easily distracted. ‘Hasn’t she told you, Leah? She tells you everything.’
Feeling a dismally disloyal piggy-in-the-middle she tried to avoid an outright lie. ‘What she told me is that she’ll explain everything when she comes back. I would have preferred her to clear things up before she went but I had to accept her choice.’
Jordan didn’t look reassured and Leah felt worse than ever. To add to her guilt that confronting Michele had sent her literally running for the hills, Leah couldn’t stop thinking about the words she’d spoken to Michele: Deliberately making someone think something when it’s actually untrue is a lie.
Ronan appeared promptly after breakfast to make the promised call to the hospital, leaning on the kitchen counter. Although he had to frown his way through a great deal more repetition than when conversing face-to-face, he was soon able to pass on to Leah that Alister was comfortable, eating adequately, and the visiting hours of service orthopédique et de traumatologie were in the afternoon and evening.
‘And his operation?’
‘No news on that yet.’ He frowned as he studied Leah’s arm. ‘Your elbow’s so green and swollen this morning it looks like a conference pear. Shall I drive us all to the tram stop in Muntsheim?’
Leah winced as she flexed her damaged arm, all too aware of it because it felt as bad as it looked. ‘That would be fantastic,’ she accepted gratefully.
When they all met on Ronan’s drive after lunch Leah realised from Curtis’s dark red blush and his close inspection of his metal-bound boots that Ronan must have had the MILF talk with him. Her heart going out to him at his unhappy embarrassment she looked for a way to resolve the issue. ‘As the weather’s so miserable I thought we’d do some baking after the hospital. You up for it?’
Curtis peered through his hair cautiously. ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fanks.’ He looked a bit less tortured as he climbed into his dad’s car. Cake was a great healer.
Ronan’s BMW was old and well-loved. He drove decisively but without risk as the windscreen wipers laboured to clear the rain. For once Leah found that even leaving aside her pulsing elbow she didn’t mind someone else driving. It gave her the opportunity to relax for the first time that day and let her mind wander. His hands were firm on the wheel, and she watched the muscles moving in his forearms as she revisited the memory of last night’s kisses in the garden. They’d been gently intense kisses rather than deeply passionate but she had a feeling passion was just waiting for the right opportunity to ignite. Or even explode.
The frisson between her and Ronan was about the only bright spot in the holiday, and the fact that he wasn’t looking for anything heavy was perfect.
Ronan shot her a smile and brought her back to the moment. ‘Their chatter’s kind of soothing in its inconsequentiality.’ He indicated the back seat occupants with his head.
‘It’s great that Natasha and Jordan have hooked up with Curtis,’ she agreed. ‘It gives them things to think about other than the disintegration of their parents’ marriage, their dad’s injury, and bickering with each other.’ Leah listened contentedly to the kids for the rest of the short journey, watching the rain-swept fields flash by.
After parking the car in Muntsheim they splashed their way to the tram stop.
When the tram arrived it was sleek and silver, quiet and smooth. They whooshed along the tracks gazing out through the large windows with Ronan pointing out the bridge over the River Ill, a school, and allotments with cute sheds and children’s play things. Once among the busy streets of Strasbourg they jumped out at the stop for Hôpital de Hautepierre. With aid from Leah’s phone app they plodded through the puddles to the sprawl of buildings where acres of rain-spattered glass reflected the lowering sky. Inside the hospital, Ronan and Curtis took themselves off to the cafeteria while Leah and the kids located Alister’s ward or service.
There was only one other bed in the bright and airy room but Leah only noticed poor Alister. Her heart shifted at how sorry for himself he looked, how drawn and defenceless, his leg immobilised by a big black boot and elevated on pillows. A walking frame stood beside the bed.
‘It’s for when I want to get out to the loo.’ Alister pulled a face. ‘Which is the only time I’m allowed out of bed because of the danger of clotting in the damaged tissue if it’s not stuck up in the air all the time. It’s awful!’
Swallowing down rising panic because it was so uncharacteristic of Alister to be anything but stoical, Leah handed over his sponge bag, pyjamas, the Dean Koontz novel from his bedside and his phone and wallet, which she’d been required to take home while he was transferred between hospitals. ‘Try not to worry. All you have to do is lie there and get better.’
The kids were overawed by their rumpled, unshaven and bleary-eyed dad. Natasha whispered, ‘You look like you’re in Holby City.’ But then she looped her arms around him in comfortable familiarity. ‘Mum’s in Austria and she’s not coming back, and we’re having a bake off later. Are you OK? Is there a tea trolley that comes round? Does it have sweets on it? Why do you think Mum went to Austria?’
‘Probably to get away from your yapping,’ Jordan scowled. ‘Are there any sweets, Dad?’
With a smile that looked as manufactured as Leah’s felt, Alister fumbled in his wallet. ‘Here’s ten euros, five for each of you. Pop down to the cafeteria and buy something, but be back in twenty minutes, please. Stay together.’
The pair turned and left, for once in perfect accord that signs to la cafétéria should be easy enough to track.
Alister gave the kids time to get out of earshot before bursting out, ‘Austria?’
Miserably, Leah nodded. ‘Innsbruck. Sorry.’
Alister looked away, mouthing something that looked a lot like fucking woman. Leah regarded him uneasily as he took a deep breath. Then several more. ‘And she’s not coming back?’
‘Yet,’ Leah offered, cautiously. ‘She’s constantly nauseated after the journey there and says she can’t turn straight around. She had this constant sickness when she was expecting Natasha, didn’t she? I’m sure she’ll be back when she’s sorted herself out …’ She tailed off as she read bleak disappointment in her brother-in-law’s face. Unless she had a way of turning back the clock to a point before Michele fell for Bailey, nothing Leah could do or say was going to make Alister feel better.
Alister heaved a huge sigh and fell to gazing miserably out at rain that hosed the windows like a car wash. Leah fidgeted, feeling again that Michele’s absence was at least partly her fault.
Then he swung back and took Leah’s hand, something she could never remember happening before. ‘Thank goodness you’re here to look after the children! I’m more grateful than I can articulate.’
‘I’m doing my best,’ Leah managed. ‘But—’
‘Why is she doing this?’ He cut across Leah’s attempt to share her worries. ‘I must have made her very unhappy for her to abandon her kids while she chases off to another country on some wild odyssey. I thought the worst had happened when she told me she was carrying another man’s child but this …’ He squeezed his eyes shut but not before Leah saw the sheen of tears.
‘It’s horrible for you,’ Leah croaked, biting back a whirl of inappropriately honest responses. She just fell in love with someone else … You’re going to feel even worse when you know who he is … I may have helped trigger that wild odyssey.
Alister drew in a long shaking breath and opened his eyes. ‘I’ve no idea when I’ll be out of here because I’m not even seeing a surgeon until Monday, let alone having my op.’
‘But today’s only Friday.’ Leah was unable to hide her dismay.
Alister gave her hand a last squeeze before he released it. ‘The best surgeon for the tendon and ligament damage is on holiday. Hopefully, she’ll put me back together again on her return. I hope then it will be only a few days before I get out of here.’ He paused to tug at his bottom lip. �
�I’ve been worrying about what happens then.’
‘It’s been on my mind, too.’
He passed a weary hand over his eyes. ‘I expect I could get myself flown home but it would be unfair to leave you here with the kids.’
Leah almost fell off the big orange patient chair in shock. ‘It’s definitely not a good idea to leave me in France with the kids while you fly to England!’
‘No, I understand.’ Though his tone was soothing, Alister looked vaguely troubled by her vehemence. ‘We’ll aim to all go home together, but the fact is we have two vehicles and only one able-bodied driver.’
‘I don’t see what we can do but wait until Michele reappears. I know she won’t like it but she’ll have to drive The Pig home. I don’t see another choice.’
‘Not so much a choice as a last resort.’ Then Alister had to swallow his alarm as the kids reappeared, pockets and mouths bulging with Milka chocolate. As if his emotional outburst had never happened, and being stuck in a foreign hospital was no more than a minor inconvenience, he joined in their chatter in his usual easy way. Leah admired anew his ability to de-escalate a situation and could imagine him sailing along school corridors refusing to be flapped by irate parents or over-excited children, as he solved problems with either hand.
She could relax and let Alister take on the role of chief adult while she went down to Outpatients to have her graze cleaned and redressed.
Most of the afternoon had gone when they met up with Ronan and Curtis at the main entrance, and Ronan tucked Leah’s uninjured arm through his as they once again pulled up their hoods and prepared to jump the puddles all the way back to the tram stop. She wasn’t sufficiently wounded to need anybody to lean on, not physically. But emotionally? She left her hand in the comforting crook of his arm.
Finally, when they’d made it back to Kirchhoffen, they congregated in the kitchen of the gîte. ‘Bake off?’ reminded Natasha, hopefully.
Leah sank into a chair, finding it hard to summon a smile. ‘Let’s gather back here in twenty minutes. I need coffee or something first.’ Especially if the ‘something’ was wine.
She needed to wrangle her demons into submission. Alister had seriously considered leaving her in France with the children while he flew home! Just the thought was enough to make her want to run like a rabbit at a greyhound meeting.
As soon as the door shut behind the teenagers, Ronan slid his arms around her and pulled her against the solidity of his chest. ‘You look freaked out.’
She closed her eyes and let herself be comforted by his heartbeat. His strength and calmness made it easy to imagine being completely confident in climbing aboard any helicopter he piloted. ‘I was hoping it didn’t show. But since when was I considered fit to care for two unsettled teenagers in a foreign land?’
His voice rumbled in her ear. ‘I can translate when you need it. The kids can hang out with Curtis whenever you want a break.’
‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘I’m being pathetic. I need to just get on with it. Whether or not this is the life I want, it’s the life I presently have.’
‘You’re being anything but pathetic.’ He dropped a kiss on her hair. ‘And I’m gloating fiendishly that fate has delivered you into my hands, encouraging you to not only spend time with me but –’ he breathed in her ear ‘– be grateful for my help.’
Leah managed a weak giggle. ‘Let’s just begin with the spending time part.’
He loosened his arms, laughter lurking in his eyes. ‘Shall I take Curtis off? I can claim to need a hand with something. In fact, I could take all three kids. You don’t need to be bothering with all that baking malarkey.’
Cheered by the hug, she shook her head. ‘No. Baking’s good. Very calming.’
‘All right, how about you and your crew bake dessert for tonight and I bring the main course? Then if you need any more hugs – or anything – I’ll be here.’ There was no laughter in his eyes, now. But there was something. Intent, glowing, interested and interesting.
Warmth filtered through her. ‘It’s a deal.’
Curtis made his tone casual, even bored, his gaze on the hooded figures in Jordan’s Assassin’s Creed Xbox game, a game kept hidden from Alister because it was an 18. ‘So, are we supposed to be going down to the kitchen yet?’ The suggested twenty minutes were definitely up but although he didn’t want to look too eager to abandon the virtual street gangs in nineteenth-century London, Curtis’s mind was elsewhere. He liked food tech at school and Leah seemed to have let him off the MILF remark so he’d really like to bake some cake. And, not long after, eat it.
Natasha glanced at her phone. ‘Yes! Leah said twenty minutes and it’s thirty.’
Curtis followed Natasha downstairs, chattering as usual. ‘So, do you?’ she demanded, as they reached the foot of the stairs.
Belatedly, Curtis realised he hadn’t been listening. ‘Do I what?’
‘Do you think your dad’s got a “thing” for Leah?’
Before Curtis could reply Jordan bounded down the stairs in three noisy jumps. ‘Shut up, Gnasher. No one’s listening.’ He shoved open the door to the kitchen. ‘Got the chocolate, Leah?’
In the kitchen, Leah was gazing at Curtis’s dad across a corner of the table, eyes bright with laughter. Two empty coffee mugs rested close together. Curtis glanced at Natasha, rolling his eyes in an attempt to convey: looks like Leah’s got a ‘thing’ back. Natasha giggled in reply.
Leah jumped up as if belatedly recalling their plans. ‘Curtis, you’ll need to tie up the long part of your hair. Hands washed, everyone, please. That’s proper hand washing with real soap.’
Obligingly, Curtis gathered up his long front hair into a mini ponytail and hooked it behind his ear. Natasha giggled again and said, ‘Cool.’
‘Moron,’ said Jordan, with grudging admiration.
Curtis’s dad took one of those deep breaths that meant he was trying not to laugh. ‘See you later.’ He ducked out of the door.
Leah produced slabs of chocolate. ‘Let’s make lava cakes. We can incorporate a bit of food art to keep things interesting.’ They went through the thing of unwrapping and studying the chocolate, snapping it and sniffing it before pronouncing it good enough to use in ‘a product’. ‘We should melt chocolate in a double boiler but I’m not sure about mixing you guys with boiling water so we’ll do it in the microwave. Curtis, will you break the white chocolate into this bowl? Natasha, the dark chocolate into this one. And Jordan, maybe you could wash the strawberries? Dry them with clean kitchen roll but don’t hull them till the last minute.’
‘Awesome,’ breathed Curtis, ripping into the big cream-coloured packet of the white chocolate, breaking off a square of chocolate and biting it in half.
‘No, you don’t.’ Sternly, Leah twitched the rest of the block from his hands.
‘Chocolate tasting!’ he protested.
‘Kitchen hygiene while we’re baking. You should never put your fingers near your mouth, which means no eating. You need to wash your hands again.’
Curtis looked at the rest of the chocolate square in his hand, then flipped it into the air and caught it neatly in his mouth. ‘My fingers didn’t go near my mouth that time.’
It made Jordan and Natasha laugh but Leah sighed and pointed at the sink.
Curtis soon discovered that although the family referred to the session as a bake off they were all firmly on one team, calling ‘What do you think, Chef?’ to each other, and Leah strolling about with her hands behind her back to question their plans or offer advice.
The kitchen began to smell so good you could get a sugar rush just inhaling. Curtis mixed melted chocolate with butter, stirred in sugar, beat in eggs, sifted in flour and spilled so much down himself that Leah said, ‘You ought to go in the oven with the cakes.’ Natasha giggled furiously and Jordan made an obscene hand gesture in Curtis’s direction when Leah wasn’t looking, except she turned and saw him and went ‘JOR-DAN MIL-TON!’ which made Jordan go red as fire. I
t was fun, everyone getting messy and teasing each other. Curtis supposed that this must be what it was like to be part of a family instead of one kid with various parents.
After Curtis had greased little dishes and coated the insides with sugar, Leah came over. ‘Great. Divide the batter equally between five ramekin dishes. Lava cakes only take about fifteen minutes so we’ll put them into the oven while we’re eating our first course.’
‘Am I staying for dinner? What are we having?’
‘Your dad’s in charge of the main course.’ Leah turned to watch Jordan, who’d spooned melted chocolate into a piping bag and was drawing thick chocolate shapes on baking parchment.
Curtis snorted a laugh. ‘Curry, spag bol or salad, then.’
‘All sounds good.’ Leah rounded on her niece. ‘Natasha, if you eat one more strawberry I’m going to ban you from my kitchen. Eating is a separate activity to cooking. Wash your hands.’
Natasha, who’d been industriously dipping strawberries in melted white chocolate and then into edible glitter, stopped chewing and put on an innocent face.
Curtis found himself instructed to ‘start the clean-down’. With a sigh, he began to gather up chocolate-coated bowls and batter-spattered utensils, taking surreptitious licks of the cake mixture when he thought Leah wasn’t looking.
Then his pocket buzzed and he wiped his fingers on his shorts before fishing out his phone.
Mum: Are you OK? What’s the weather like? Are you doing anything fun? x
‘My mum,’ he said.
Leah didn’t look up from wiping down a counter in big brisk circles. ‘Hope she’s OK.’
‘Yeah.’ He tapped back:
Curtis: Fine thx. Raining. Making chocolate cakes.
Before he could even put his phone away, he received an answer:
Mum: I suppose the house is a tip and you and your dad are camping out on the floor? Lol. x
His mum and Darren’s house was like something from one of those property shows on telly after a poncey designer had had his hands on it. That ‘lol’ didn’t fool Curtis. Mum would think a few paint spots meant he was sleeping rough.
Just for the Holidays Page 10