His Reluctant Cinderella

by Jessica Gilmore

  Raff watched with interest as the colour rose on Clara’s cheeks. ‘This is a client of mine...’

  ‘Not any more,’ Raff interjected. He smiled at the girl. ‘Hi, I’m Raff.’

  ‘Oh.’ Summer looked at him with interest. ‘The VIC?’

  ‘The what?’ Raff didn’t spend much time with children. He feared it showed.

  ‘Very Important Client. The reason Mummy has been so busy.’

  ‘That’s finished now.’ Clara had regained her usual colour. ‘Obviously we’ll still look after the house but the, er, the project has come to an end. Mr Rafferty has come in to collect his invoice.’ She glared meaningfully at Raff.

  ‘And to celebrate.’ This was it, the chance to prove to Clara that he was a fit person to be in Summer’s life. ‘How do you two ladies fancy an afternoon out at Howland Hall?’

  ‘The theme park? Yes, please!’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  The two voices spoke at once.

  ‘Mummy, please, I’ve never been on a roller coaster.’ The big eyes turned appealingly to Clara.

  ‘Mr Rafferty, can I just have a quick word?’ Clara took Raff’s arm and led him to the back of the office, through the French doors and into the courtyard beyond.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she snapped. ‘This is not okay.’

  Unease slithered over him. ‘What?’

  Clara glared at him. ‘Offering to take Summer out.’

  He looked at her bemusedly. ‘I won a family pass in the raffle last night. I thought it would be nice.’

  ‘You know I don’t let Summer meet men I’m dating.’ Clara put her hand on her forehead, rubbing distractedly. She looked tired. ‘It’s not fair on her. What if she gets attached? You’re going away.’

  ‘It’s an afternoon at a theme park, not an invitation to move in.’ What was she getting so worried about? Hang on. ‘How many men?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘How many men have you not allowed Summer to meet?’ The thought of her out with other men made him lose all focus.

  ‘None yet but there may be. In the future. After all, you said one day at a time...’ She didn’t finish the sentence; she didn’t need to. ‘But that’s not the point. I don’t want Summer going to theme parks and I don’t want her going on roller coasters and I don’t want her getting attached to you.’

  He put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Relax, Clara. Every child needs to go on a roller coaster and I promise to be as dull as I can. She’ll be so unattached she’ll be like a broken jigsaw.’

  She chewed her lip. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘One afternoon.’

  ‘Roller coasters are dangerous.’

  ‘Not at Howland Hall. They’re known for their safety measures. You can’t let her grow up without having ever been on a roller coaster. She’ll rebel, become a stuntwoman or join the circus. Buy a motorbike for sure.’

  ‘She has promised me she’ll never get on a bike!’ Clara bit her lip. ‘I don’t know, Raff.’

  ‘I do,’ he said promptly. ‘Afternoon of adrenaline-fuelled, gravity-defying fun and then I’ll take you both out for dinner somewhere where jeans and trainers are welcomed. If our stomachs can handle it, that is. As a thank-you, to Summer as well. She must have missed you the last few weeks.’

  Clara had mentioned that her daughter had found her continued absence difficult; Raff did owe her a treat. At least that was what he told himself, pushing away the sudden and unwanted feeling of protectiveness that slammed into him when he thought of her absent father.

  Clara twisted the bangle on her wrist round and round, a sure sign she was unsure. ‘As long as she knows that’s what this is,’ she said after a long moment. ‘A thank-you. I don’t want her getting the wrong idea. And we’ll take the van. I’m not letting her into that tiny back seat of yours. I bet it doesn’t even have a seat belt.’

  ‘I’ll call you Miss Castleton and keep ten metres between us at all times,’ Raff promised. ‘Now, do you like to be at the front or the back of the roller coaster? The middle is strictly for wimps.’

  * * *

  ‘This,’ Summer said rapturously as she bounced along between Clara and Raff, ‘is the best day ever. I only want to do things with VIP tickets, Mummy. It’s cool not having to queue.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with taking your turn,’ Clara said, but she didn’t even convince herself. Unfair it might be, but there was something to be said for waltzing up to the front of every queue, even though Clara found she couldn’t meet the accusing eyes of the people who had been waiting patiently for up to an hour to board one of the world-famous roller coasters.

  They had been on the Scorpion twice, Runaway Train three times and the Dragonslayer five times. She’d lost count of how many times they had been on the Rapids. They were all soaked through but luckily as spring slid into summer the weather was complying, and even though she kept checking Summer anxiously her daughter was showing no sign of being chilled.

  ‘I want to go on that one,’ Summer said for what must be the twentieth time, pointing over at the Typhoon. Clara shuddered. ‘You’re too short,’ she said firmly.

  ‘I’m not. I’m tall for my age,’ Summer insisted.

  ‘Let’s go and have a look,’ Raff interjected easily. ‘There’s a height chart just outside and you can have a proper look at it, Summer. You might change your mind when you see how green the people getting off it look.’

  It wasn’t his place to intercede and part of Clara resented it, but another part of her liked the sharing of the load, the way he interacted with her daughter. The two of them were slightly ahead, strolling along the concrete path. Summer was explaining something involved to Raff, something about roller coasters judging by her expansive hand gestures. It was strange seeing her with a man who wasn’t her grandfather, seeing the way she responded to his gentle teasing and laid-back questions.

  The old familiar ache twisted around her stomach. She had let Summer down; her daughter needed a father, someone to urge her forward when Clara’s instinct was to hold her back, hold her tight.

  Raff would be perfect. But would it be fair on Summer when he would be gone so frequently?

  Would it be fair to Clara, herself? On the one hand she would keep her independence, wouldn’t have to compromise anything in her life. But surely if she was going to take such a big step then there should be some changes.

  The theme park was set in the grounds of an old, now abandoned stately home and the owners played up to its heritage. Although there was a vast amount of plastic signage they tried to keep everything vintage-looking; even the food carts and toilets had an Edwardian country-garden look, the staff smart in striped blazers and straw hats,

  ‘It’s so cool.’ Summer was gazing up at the park’s newest ride, her eyes huge. ‘Look, Mummy.’

  Clara shuddered. ‘I feel sick just looking, Sum. How can you want to go on that?’ She had never allowed her onto anything faster than a carousel before but there was an adrenaline junkie hidden in her demure daughter. She wanted to try everything.

  She reminded Clara of herself when she was young.

  ‘They look like they’re flying.’

  ‘If humans were meant to fly, we’d have wings. Honestly, I can cope with any normal roller coaster but this?’ The riders were strapped in but their legs were left free, to dangle helplessly as the roller coaster snaked at incredible speed around the twists, turns and loops. That was bad enough but after the first loop the carriages went horizontal, leaving the hapless passengers facing down as the train swooped along the thin rails.

  ‘There’s the height sign.’ Summer went racing over to it. ‘I’m big enough, Mummy, look. Can I go on it, please, please?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Her instinct was to say no, just as she had instinctive
ly wanted to refuse Clara’s pleas to go on anything apart from the caterpillar train aimed at the under threes. But she had swallowed down her fears and let her daughter go. And look how happy she was, eyes shining, her face lit up with enthusiasm.

  Over the last few weeks it had become painfully apparent just how much she sheltered Summer—and herself—from any kind of physical or mental stress. And that was good, right? Only, maybe, she had crossed the line, just a little, into overprotectiveness.

  Better to be overprotective than neglectful. But Summer was growing up, and if she pulled too tightly now she knew it could cause problems later; it was just so hard to let go, even a little.

  ‘I really hate the idea of it, sweetie. I don’t think I can.’ She’d conquered her own reluctance and gone on every single ride so far, as if sitting by Summer’s side would keep her safe, She’d been not so secretly relieved when Summer’s age had put a couple of the most terrifying beyond their reach. ‘I need to feel something under my feet if I’m travelling at that speed.’

  Summer’s face fell but she didn’t ask again, just nodded in agreement. Despite her good behaviour she couldn’t hide her disappointment; her whole body projected it from her drooping shoulders to the tip of her toe scuffing the pavement.

  Raff took Clara’s arm, pulling her a short distance away, out of Summer’s earshot. ‘I’ll take her on.’

  Panic immediately clawed at Clara’s chest. ‘No, you don’t have to.’

  He grinned. ‘I want to try it. It’s meant to be great.’

  ‘You’re hanging from a bar looking down at the ground hundreds of feet below and travelling at G-force speeds. How can that be great?’

  ‘Come on, Clara, I know the adrenaline gets you. You’re buzzing every time we get off a ride.’

  Adrenaline or raw fear? Clara wasn’t even sure there was a difference. ‘It’s not...’ She paused. She didn’t want to say safe. Not again. Even if every fibre was screaming at her that it wasn’t. ‘It’s not your responsibility.’

  ‘No, but I’m offering. Look, we passed a café just a couple of minutes back up that path. Why don’t you go and have a horribly overpriced coffee so you don’t even have to watch and we’ll find you when we’re done?’

  ‘Please, Mummy.’ Summer had come dancing over; her eyes pleaded with Clara.

  What harm could it do? They had VIP passes so they wouldn’t have to join the lengthy queue. In just twenty minutes’ time, Summer would be telling her about every twist, turn and scream.

  And she would never know that allowing her to go on the ride took far more out of Clara than any roller coaster in the world.

  ‘Okay, then.’ She staggered backwards as Summer flung herself onto her with a high-pitched squeal. ‘You do everything Raff tells you and remember, if you change your mind just say. No one will be cross or think you’re a coward.’

  ‘I won’t change my mind. Thank you, Mummy, thank you, Raff. This is totally epic.’

  ‘Totally,’ he agreed. ‘See you soon, Clara. Enjoy the calm. I think a return to the Rapids after this, don’t you? After all, my socks are almost dry now!’

  * * *

  Surely they must be finished now? Clara checked her watch for what felt like the hundredth time. Wanting to block out even the mental image of her daughter queuing and boarding such an unnatural ride, she had opted for a seat at the other side of the café by a large window overlooking a shady pond. Once seated with a latte she had immersed herself in work emails on her mobile. After all, technically it was a work day.

  But Sue was proving as ferociously efficient at running the office as she was at running a house and it had only taken Clara twenty minutes to clear the backlog. Without work the old, all-too familiar panic reasserted itself. She swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat, the clutching sensation at her chest. Summer was fine, she was with Raff, she was on a ride designed to be completely safe despite all outward appearances.

  But, oh, if only Summer didn’t have to grow up. Maybe the witch in Rapunzel had a point. She was very misunderstood if you ignored the eye-gouging part. In fact, Clara could look up any convenient towers in forests for sale right now and deposit Summer at the top of one.

  She sighed. Maybe that was just a little over the top.

  Drinking the last bitter, lukewarm dregs, Clara tapped her fingers on the wooden table top. Maybe she should go out there and wait, be at the exit, beaming, ready to welcome her daughter back to solid ground. She needed to hide her fears better, show support for all Summer’s whims, schemes and plans just as her parents had for her. Just as they still did.

  Mind made up, Clara pushed her chair out and gathered up her bag and jacket and the coats Raff and Summer had left with her. Arms full, she walked towards the exit, deliberately keeping her steps unhurried, hoping if she projected an aura of calm she might even come to believe it herself.

  It was only an hour until closing time and the café had been quiet, almost eerily so compared with the hustle and bustle outside. The screams of the riders mingled with the cries of the hot and overtired toddlers and babies punctuated by screeches and laughter from the school groups and gangs of older teenagers. The day was still unseasonably warm and the coats were stuffy in her arms as she walked towards the ride.

  It was odd how the noise seemed to dim as she approached the area dedicated to Typhoon. No rattle of wheels, no Tannoy, no adrenaline-fuelled screams, no noisy chatter from the queue. It was almost preternaturally quiet, as if she were in some alternate dimension; in the theme park and yet not of it.

  It was as if the ride wasn’t running at all...

  The blood rushed to her head, pounding loudly in her ears as she looked up at the twisting circular rails, so very thin, so very high. But with hideous clarity Clara already knew what she would see. A train lying like a broken toy along the curve of a loop, completely still, the passengers suspended high above the ground below, immobile.

  It doesn’t mean she’s up there.

  But there was no queue; the waiting people were being cleared away from the area by efficient staff members. No jaunty blazers and hats here; they were all purpose with fluorescent jackets and walkie-talkies and grim, unsmiling faces.

  Clara turned and walked back to the café. They were meeting her there; she should have waited. Summer would be disappointed at having missed her turn and Raff would just be relieved that they hadn’t been on that particular carriage and she would admit that for one terrified moment she had thought they were up there and Summer would roll her eyes and tell her to stop worrying about everything and they would agree to call it a day and walk back to the van...

  Clara caught her breath. It was all going to be fine. She walked back into the café, ready to catch her daughter up in her arms and never let her go.

  They weren’t there. She looked around, her head buzzing with disbelief. They had to be here.

  ‘Are you all right?’ The young man behind the counter was looking at her oddly as if he had never seen a woman utterly paralysed by fear, burdened by coats and indecision and terror before.

  ‘Yes,’ she said automatically, barely recognising the high, strained voice coming out of her mouth. ‘At least, I don’t know what to do. I think my daughter is on that train but I don’t know who to ask.’

  The room was spinning recklessly round, a rushing sound in her ears, and she swayed as if she were on a roller coaster herself, the coats spilling from her arms. Strong arms caught her, sat her down; voices were jabbering at her, asking questions she had no idea how to answer.

  She had taken her eye well and truly off the ball and now her daughter was trapped alone except for a man she didn’t know at all. And it was all Clara’s fault.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘WHAT’S HAPPENING?’

  That was a very good question. Unfortunately Raff
wasn’t sure he knew the answer. Carefully, making sure he didn’t rock the carriage in any way, he turned his head to the side so that he could see Summer. She was holding herself still, her body was unnaturally rigid and the pointed little face was pale but she didn’t seem to be on the verge of tears, thank goodness, Raff had never had to deal with weeping children before; doing so trapped two hundred metres in the air would definitely be beyond him.

  ‘I think there’s been a problem with the power,’ he said as calmly as he could, trying not to dwell on just how uncomfortable it was to be suspended on his back strapped into a leather harness.

  Although he believed there were clubs that catered for such desires.

  At least the carriage hadn’t stopped when they were facing down; there might have been mass hysteria. Instead he could look up at the late afternoon sky and pretend the ground was just a few comfortable feet below.

  ‘Will they rescue us?’ Her voice sounded small and scared.

  ‘Of course!’ Although goodness knew when. It was hard to see exactly where they were and what was nearby but the ride extended out well over a kilometre and the entrance platform was a long way back. ‘They won’t want us cluttering up the park much longer.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I think they’ll use a crane,’ he said after some thought. ‘Although a helicopter would be fun. Have you ever been in one?’

  ‘No.’ Summer sounded wistful. ‘Nor an aeroplane. Not even the Eurotunnel. We usually go away with Granny and Grandpa and stay in a cottage and walk.’ She sounded less than thrilled.

  ‘That sounds fun,’ he said gravely.

  ‘I want to stay in a villa with a pool like Natasha. Mummy says one day when our ship comes in. Although I’d rather fly there.’

  Raff wanted to promise her that he’d take her away immediately, anywhere she wanted to go, but he managed to stop the words slipping out. He had no right to promise this child anything.

  ‘Where would you want to go? If you could go anywhere?’