‘The boys get on great. They’ll love it.’ Chris swooped on Victoria. ‘Honestly, the place is big enough for us all. There’s an annexe to the side you can have. Our paths don’t need to cross unless you want them to.’ He backed away. ‘Like I said, it’s a bit radical. If it helps, I’ll charge rent.’
Rent wasn’t the issue. Living in the same house was the issue. ‘I don’t know, Chris. It’s …’
‘Mad?’ His shoulders dipped. ‘You know what I’m like. Act first, think later.’
Victoria deserted the wall and stepped over to Chris. ‘It’s very kind of you to think of us.’
He spun round. ‘Confession time. While I hope it would help you, I have an ulterior motive.’
Victoria’s heart skipped to the left; her head knocked it back on course. There was no way Chris was about to declare his undying love for her. No way. ‘Go on,’ she said, daring herself to listen.
Chris retrieved the screwed up paper from his pocket, unravelled, it and showed it to Victoria.
It read: To save my boy.
‘You see? Our goals aren’t that far apart. You want to find Seth and I want Rick to live again. And I saw how he connected with you. He told me himself, you get him. He said he was talking about his mum with you. No one, and I mean no one, has managed to get him to talk about Lacey.’
‘I’m not following. What’s your point?’
‘I’ve spent thousands of dollars on experts trying to help my son, but you, in one lunchtime, brought the old Rick back. It wasn’t for long, but it happened.’
With the note returned to his pocket, Chris seized Victoria’s hands. ‘I don’t know what it is you have, but I’d give anything to see my son light up again. Stay with us. Until your cottage is fixed. Come on. For the boys.’
Chapter Seventeen
Her hands were still enclosed in his; secure, warm, protected from the sea breeze beginning to whip around the buildings. He made no effort to release them. Victoria couldn’t tell if it was a pleading tactic, or habit. His sense of horror about touching another woman had vanished. He was doing the very thing that led to this conversation.
Victoria withdrew from his clasp. ‘It’s a lovely gesture, but I can’t accept.’
‘It’s not a gesture, Vicky.’ Chris lurched to grab her hands again, but she stepped back.
‘I’m not comfortable. I’d be walking in someone else’s footsteps.’
Chris blinked. ‘What does that mean?’
There was no tactful way of articulating her anxiety, besides, Chris was the one who expressed the wish people spoke with clarity. ‘All you and Rick know is Lacey. Wouldn’t it be hard for you both to have a different woman in the house?’
Chris frowned. The furrows created were deep enough to plant seeds in. ‘Lacey never lived here. You know that.’
Victoria fiddled with her bare ring finger. ‘I’m worried that having a woman in the house, any house, will distress you, in the same way putting my arm around you did.’
The rutted forehead transformed from a ploughed field into a flat plain, as comprehension flooded Chris’s eyes. ‘That’s for me to deal with.’
‘What about Rick?’
Chris’s lips thinned. ‘I’m doing it for him. I’d do anything to have him back. I thought I’d made that clear. God, Victoria, you’re infuriating. Say yes, and let me do all the bloody worrying. It’s not your concern.’
‘But we have a history.’
‘Yes! A history.’ He took to pacing the pavement, from the end of the terraced cottages to Olivia’s shop. ‘It’s in the past.’ He came to a standstill next to Victoria. ‘I promise you, my only motive is to help the boys.’
She knew that. She wasn’t suggesting he’d try a move on her, but their past had to be taken into account. Her past. It was apparent it meant more to her than Chris. It wasn’t holding him back in the slightest. ‘I still don’t know. I need to think about it.’
Chris nodded. ‘And so you don’t feel under any pressure, there’s no time limit. As and when you’re ready.’ He smiled. It wasn’t a full smile. ‘Maybe in the New Year?’
After a few awkward moments of stilted thanks, Victoria made her excuses, wished Chris goodnight, and knocked on Olivia’s door. While she waited for it to open, she watched Chris amble along the street, in the direction of the castle. It was madness to even consider staying there.
‘Here she is.’
Victoria turned to find Olivia and Seth in the doorway, both wearing coats, both expecting to leave the shop.
‘You go with your mum, and I’ll lock up and see you by the other door.’ Olivia transferred Seth’s hand from hers to Victoria’s. ‘I won’t be a minute.’
The door closed, the bolt clunked, and the shop was plunged into darkness.
Victoria looked at Seth. He was staring into the distance.
‘Is that Chris?’ he asked, pointing to a dark, hunched shadow. ‘I like Chris.’ Silence. ‘And Rick. When can I see Rick?’
‘I thought you were coming round the side?’ Olivia teetered towards them. ‘Don’t make me walk in these things.’ She pointed to the pair of skyscrapers posing as shoes. ‘If I fall, I could break my hip.’
‘That would never happen,’ Victoria said. ‘You’re indestructible.’ She noticed Olivia’s hair was tied into a neat ballerina’s bun, and although the light wasn’t brilliant, it looked as if she was wearing make-up. ‘Are you and Dad out tonight?’
Olivia laughed. ‘Hasn’t he told you? Typical Frank. Yes. We’re heading off to Bournemouth to see The Nutcracker Suite. It’s a Russian production. We booked it weeks ago. You don’t mind taking me back to your dad’s, do you?’
‘It’s his car,’ Victoria said, smiling. ‘It’s the least I can do. And thank you for looking after Seth. I’m sorry I was so long.’
‘He was a joy. Can we get in now?’
‘Of course. You look lovely, by the way.’ It was as Victoria reached for the car keys, she realised Seth was still holding her hand. It felt so natural, so easy, she didn’t want to let go. She didn’t want to lose the amazing swell of love that was inflating her heart to twice its size. Handholding was the order of the day. She peeked at Olivia, then at the car, and then at Seth.
‘I’d like to get in the car now.’ And with that, Seth tugged his hand away, and pulled at the rear door.
Victoria obliged and settled him into his car seat, while Olivia performed nothing short of a contortionist’s act, to get in without toppling over. Victoria kept half an eye on her, ready to leap to her assistance should she lose her balance. Or tie herself in knots.
‘You and Chris had a lengthy chat, then?’ Olivia pulled her skirt over her knees, as Victoria climbed in the driver’s side.
‘Oh, yes.’ Victoria turned the key.
The air bed was being difficult. A challenge. More of a challenge than Seth. He’d had his bath and gone to bed hours ago, without any arguments. Victoria assumed Olivia must have worn him out.
Asleep for a short while, Victoria had been disturbed by her father returning from his evening out. He wasn’t noisy, but in the small bungalow, sound carried, and she wasn’t certain, but at one point, she thought she heard Olivia’s voice. She hoped he, or possibly they, wouldn’t hear her slapping the air bed. Eventually, she abandoned it for the sofa, and lay staring into the semi-darkness. Her thoughts weaved in and out of the twinkling Christmas tree lights.
Chris had made an exceptional offer, inviting her and Seth to stay at the castle. She was satisfied he was doing it for Rick’s sake, and could see the benefit in Seth having a male role model younger than his granddad, but she questioned if it was the right thing to do. For it to work, she had to be strong enough to let the past go.
She curled onto her side, and cuddled into the duvet. Chris had asked for her help. She and Rick had con
nected in the same way Seth and his nanny had. If Chris felt the same about his son’s relationship with Victoria, as she did about Cerys and Seth, she couldn’t refuse to help. And if Chris didn’t have a problem with their past, then neither should she. Of course, chances were, he’d set it aside in order to help Rick.
She buried her face into her pillow, letting it soak up a stray teardrop. The wretchedness of Chris’s plight moved her. Since losing his wife and son, he’d devoted his energy and time into resurrecting Rick. Every minute of every day, when Chris wasn’t picturing Lacey, or remembering Todd’s voice, he was consumed with thoughts and ideas of how to help his surviving son live again. In a strange, sad way, he was mourning the loss of both boys. And all the time he was looking after Rick, no one was taking care of Chris. There was Tommy, but it seemed he’d grown tired of his friend and taken off.
Victoria kicked off the duvet and sat up. She cared for Chris, and now she understood why he left for America, she was in a position to exorcise her demons. If she could do that, she could move into the castle, help Rick, and remind Chris how to let go. Like he’d shown her in their teens.
She snuggled back down on the sofa, dragged the pillow from the arm to under her head, and closed her eyes. Sleep wasn’t far away.
‘Frank!’ Olivia’s voice.
‘Shh!’ Stifled laughter. ‘You’ll wake the others.’
‘Then stop doing that.’ A giggle.
Olivia was in the house and seemingly staying the night. Frank must have settled his differences with Iris’s ghost, and put his past to rest.
Victoria cushioned her ears with the pillow. One way or another she and Seth had to move out. It wasn’t fair on her father, or Olivia. They deserved privacy. And Victoria had no wish to learn how their sex life panned out.
She made a mental note to check the Internet in the morning to research exorcising demons.
Chapter Eighteen
Christmas was a squeeze in the small bungalow with Juliette’s family visiting for three days, but somehow they’d managed to fit, without extending into a tent in the back garden. Olivia had been invited to stay, but she declined, opting to join in with festivities during the daytime, with Victoria running her home at night.
Frank was in his element with five grandchildren, two daughters, one son-in-law and Olivia seated around the small kitchen table, admiring the crisp, golden turkey. Vegetarianism went out the window as he wielded his knife with the skill of a samurai. Everyone tucked into the one o’clock lunch, including Seth, who despite a major outburst on Christmas Eve, had responded well to the boundaries Victoria had put in place.
On Boxing Day, when all the toys had batteries in, occupying Alex and Seth, and Juliette’s three youngest were playing ships with a large cardboard carton, Victoria, sitting back and quietly observing, promised herself she would never miss another family Christmas.
With Juliette and her brood back in London, a peaceful New Year’s Eve was followed with New Year’s Day at Chiswell Craft Centre. Seth was at the desk, using chalks and pastels, Frank was posing for a pencil sketch for Olivia, and Victoria was looking on.
‘You’re quiet, love.’ Frank glanced across the room, instantly reprimanded by Olivia with a wave of her pencil.
Victoria smiled. ‘I’m enjoying the tranquillity. It’s been hectic. The turkey had more resting time than me.’
Frank chuckled. ‘It’s been good, though.’
‘Francis!’ Olivia folded her arms and tapped her foot. ‘How am I expected to draw those gorgeous lips of yours if you keep moving them?’
Frank welded shut his mouth and fought to keep a straight face. Victoria broke eye contact to give him the best chance of survival.
‘Livia? Are you cross with Pops?’ Seth lifted his head from his work and studied both his granddad and Olivia. His face contracted with the effort of understanding.
Olivia addressed him. ‘I’m a little bit cross with him, yes.’ She abandoned her pad and sat on the chair next to Seth. ‘Do you think people can be a little bit cross?’
Seth put his chalk on the wooden lip of the drawing board, and folded his hands together.
Victoria noticed he was mirroring Olivia’s pose.
‘Yes. And I think people can be a lot cross,’ he said.
Victoria held her breath, waiting for him to accuse her of being one of those people.
‘But if you’re only a little cross at Pops, he’s only been a little bit naughty.’ Seth returned to his picture, and the discussion was over.
Olivia patted him on his back, and then smiled at Victoria. ‘Happy New Year,’ she whispered as she passed by.
Victoria acknowledged Olivia with a fleeting grin, before turning her attention on Seth. The research on child attachment disorder suggested Victoria should attend therapy to help increase her bond with Seth, but since progress was already being made, she wasn’t convinced an outside influence would help. Olivia was a great source of encouragement, and her years as a teacher gave her an invaluable insight as to how to relate to Seth, so Victoria took the opportunity to watch, listen and learn.
She discovered time was a major factor, and having handed responsibility of EweSpeak to Juliette, and with the insurance company taking care of the cottage repairs, it was something Victoria now had. And she was using it wisely.
Spending time with Seth was having a positive effect on both parties.
There was still a long way to go, but they had a foundation on which to lay the path, and with her father and Olivia guiding the way, Victoria believed she and Seth would one day travel life’s walkways together. Maybe even hand-in-hand.
She flicked a rampant curl from her eyes, and rubbed her nose. In reality, her fantasy family, which included Chris, was the equivalent of a tiny island on the horizon, and there was plenty of swimming and gasping for air ahead of her, before she reached dry land.
Chris had given her plenty to think about over the holidays. He’d invited her into his home, no strings attached, other than to be there for his son. In return he’d provide support for Seth. He’d mentioned something about an annexe, so they weren’t going to be on top of one another, unlike in Victoria’s dreams, where they tumbled and rolled with each other, kissing and laughing.
With thoughts like that, it was stupid to consider staying at the castle.
She refocused on the room. Her father was fidgeting, Olivia was casting spells with her pencil, and Seth was observing.
‘Livia’s a little bit cross, again,’ he said. ‘Pops keeps being silly. I think he’s going to be told off.’
Seth was becoming quite the conversationalist. Victoria nodded, appreciating the moment. ‘I think he is, too. Naughty step for Pops?’
‘Don’t know. Livia’s laughing. I’m making a picture for Rick.’
Victoria’s eyes darted from her father, to Olivia, to Seth’s artwork, managing to keep up with the change of topic. Seth could flit with great ease, yet leave the impression he’d given serious thought to each subject. If Victoria applied his technique of moving on, there was a chance they could stay at the castle. All she had to do was acknowledge her feelings for Chris, and then set them aside. ‘Easy,’ she muttered.
‘Right then,’ said Frank, dismounting his stool and inspecting his portrait. ‘Shall we go back to the bungalow? Seth? Will you help me make turkey curry this evening?’
Victoria groaned. ‘We still have turkey?’
Frank grinned as he held his sketch up to the light. ‘It’s the last batch. I took it out of the freezer this morning. We could do a stroganoff instead. This is very good, Olivia.’ He ducked as Olivia’s hand brushed the top of his head.
Seth packed away his things, collected his coat, and waited by the door. ‘I like curry.’
‘You do?’ Victoria slipped on her jacket, and wrapped a scarf around Se
th. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘Cerys makes it.’ He waited as Victoria pushed his mittens over his hands. ‘I like Cerys.’
Ah. Cerys. A name Victoria had avoided mentioning in front of Seth in case it upset him.
She’d phoned the nanny agency at the beginning of December, explaining her situation, and they said they understood. As a gesture of goodwill and with the chance she and Seth could return to London at short notice, Victoria agreed to pay Cerys a three-month retaining fee. It was money well spent, as no price could be put on peace of mind, but had it become an unnecessary expense?
Now was the perfect opportunity to determine Seth’s feelings about his nanny. ‘Do you miss Cerys?’ Victoria straightened his scarf.
‘No. But I like her.’
Victoria crouched in front of Seth and fussed about with his coat buttons. ‘If we live here, we won’t see Cerys. How does that make you feel?’ She’d phrased the question so Seth had control of his reply. It was important for his self-esteem.
‘Okay.’ He turned to Frank. ‘May I pour the rice into the pan, please?’
And that was that. Decision made. Victoria would cancel the contract with the agency.
A second chance had been granted.
The next week passed without incident. No one ventured out apart from Frank, who braved the cold, biting January weather to visit Olivia. He kept an eye on Victoria’s cottage, too, but had nothing to report. The damp, freezing air was prolonging the drying out process, even with two dehumidifiers working night and day.
On a quiet Saturday afternoon, sitting at the kitchen table in her father’s bungalow, Victoria searched through the information she’d collected on the local playgroups and schools. At some point, she and Seth would be living on Portland in the cottage, and she needed to sort out his education. Ideally before she had to investigate senior schools.
She wondered where Rick would attend. It was possible he’d started this term – schools had been back two weeks already, according to Juliette, who was missing her holiday breakfasts with her tribe.
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