Belonging: Two hearts, two continents, one all-consuming passion. (Victoria in Love Book 1)

by Isabella Wiles

  Once again, it’s a glorious bright sunny day as Lisa and I are indoors preparing the salads and jacket potatoes that are to accompany our family barbecue, Chris and Dean having taken charge of the meat and the outside grill. Just as in the UK when I hung out with Lynne, Michelle and Melanie, hanging out now with Chris’s New Zealand based rellies feels equally as comfortable. They are a naturally warm and hospitable family and it feels nice to finally get to know Dean and his family, as he is the last remaining sibling of Chris’s I’d yet to meet.

  Peals of laughter can be heard from outside where Lynne is playing with her grandchildren as Lisa and I stand side by side preparing the food in the kitchen. Lisa is tiny in stature, but I sense strong and powerful in character. When stood next to Dean, who is even bigger and broader than his brother, she looks small enough for him to pick up and fit straight in his pocket. Long dark glossy hair, a pretty heart-shaped face punctuated by dark intriguing eyes that draw you in and a slender well-toned runner’s body, she is a warm and captivating woman. Although very softly spoken (I can’t ever imagine her raising her voice in anger) everything she says is considered and kind. I feel she is an old soul who has walked this earth before and therefore possesses a wisdom that transcends her age.

  Standing side by side chopping salad ingredients we chat easily as we get to know one another. She shares tales of Dean and Chris before I knew him, causing us to giggle and snigger as she reveals hidden secrets and another perspective on Chris’s history. It’s clear she has a strong affection for Chris and it matters to her how happy he is.

  “So how did you two get together?” she asks.

  “Long story,” I reply, not giving much away. “Obviously I first met Chris almost a year ago now when he first came over to the UK for the summer and crashed on the sofa at the house Mel and I share. It was complicated for a while as I was dating someone else, but we finally got together at Michelle’s 30th birthday party. She helped set us up.”

  “Reeeeally?” she says, amusement in her voice on learning this new information. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Yes. She set up the sleeping arrangements so that Chris and I ended up in the living room together. I was on the floor, him on the sofa. It was the complete opposite of what you could call a romantic seduction. Let’s just say an airbed was involved!” I laugh at the memory. “What about you and Dean? How long have you guys been together?”

  “Eight years now, although we had a bit of a rocky start at the beginning. Like you, I was also dating someone else. But I suspect just like Chris, once Dean decides he wants something, which in our case was me, he wasn’t going to stop until he had what he wanted.”

  “Yes, yes. It was just like that with Chris. I didn’t realise until after we’d got together, and he told me how determined he’d been to woo me. He’d basically decided the first time he’d laid eyes on me that, as he puts it, ‘I wanted you from the very first moment I saw you, Vicky’,” I say dramatically, emphasising the words Chris first shared with me that first night.

  “They’re both very determined men, Vicky. I became pregnant not long after we got together, so that was that really. So there was no going back even if I’d wanted to.”

  What an interesting thing to say, I think to myself. Almost as if by becoming pregnant Lisa believed she no longer had any choice in whether to stay with Dean or not. “Did you both know instantly that it was the right thing… to have the baby, I mean?”

  It takes Lisa a long time to answer. The sound of our chopping a welcome distraction from my loaded question which hangs in the air between us. I sense I’ve hit a nerve. I only hope I haven’t offended her.

  Eventually she replies. “Well obviously, I wouldn’t have it any other way now. I’m very grateful for my two beautiful children, and not keeping it wasn’t really an option for Dean. So even though I was completely terrified he convinced me that it would be OK and that we’d make it work, but I do wonder occasionally what else I could have done with my life if I hadn’t had my children when I did. If we’d perhaps postponed it for a few more years at least.”

  “Well, as you say, you wouldn’t have your gorgeous children now - and they are gorgeous by the way,” I reply, the sound of their laughter drifting in through the patio doors as their dad and uncle twirl them around in the air above their heads in some sort of play fight.

  “I’m very happy Chris has met you, Vicky,” she says, putting down her knife and reaching over to place her hand on top of mine giving it a slight squeeze as she turns to look at me. “He deserves to find someone that makes him happy, and he’s the happiest I think I’ve ever seen him. He’s not had an easy time of it, what with his eye and everything.”

  “I’m pleased you think so, Lisa. I’ve had the most amazing time over the past year with him. Chris landed unexpectedly in my life like the whirlwind that he is, and hey, I wouldn’t be here with you all now if we hadn’t of met,” I say lightly, despite the uneasy mix of emotions her words cause me to feel. I know I’ve never fallen this deeply for anyone ever before and when Chris and I are apart it causes me physical pain, so why still do I have a nagging doubt whenever someone points at how suited we are, or how much in love we look?

  I know we haven’t had the smoothest of rides but there’s no doubt Chris makes me feel more like a woman than any other person ever has in my life. He was awoken something in me that I’d only observed in others before - like the time I’d been so moved by Sylvie Guillem’s performance of the Boléro at Hampton Court. I’m having a far better time than I could have imagined whilst I’m here visiting Christchurch, and I’m beginning to imagine what life could be like living here permanently. Everything on the surface appears so perfect, so why the continuous internal questioning? What is it my gut senses, that I’m not acknowledging consciously?

  “Absolutely,” she says, “you do realise we have a shared comradeship, Vicky. We’re both in love with two brothers, the only male siblings in this family group and I know how complicated and infuriating they can both be. So if you ever want to talk or offload, I’m probably the only person who can appreciate your point of view, so you’ll always have my ear. If you ever need it that is.”

  “That’s exceptionally kind of you, Lisa,” I reply sincerely, “and regardless, I’m looking forward to getting to know you and Dean a lot more. It’s unlikely we’ll get up to the North Island in the short time I have left, but another trip maybe.” She smiles warmly at me, as we connect in a shared understanding and appreciation.

  “Oi, oi, what are you two lovely ladies yakking about?” Chris asks, as he and his brother make their way into the kitchen, both of them sliding up behind their respective women. Dean wrapping his arms around Lisa’s waist and Chris doing the same to me.

  Lisa gently slaps Dean’s hand as he reaches round her and pinches some of the food off one of the platters we’ve prepared. “Oi, paws off. You can wait until it’s served, just like everyone else.”

  “Aw, but you know I deserve special treatment,” he says cheekily reminding me of Chris. The pair are like two peas in a pod, strikingly similar in both character and manner.

  Ignoring her and taking another handful, stuffing it into his mouth he muffles, “The meat’s ready. What needs taking outside?”

  “Nothing if you keep pinching it before it’s served,” Lisa replies. “Here, take these,” she says, handing him two of the large platters that contain two different salads. “And Chris, you can grab the plates and cutlery. Vicky and I will bring the jacket potatoes out in a minute.”

  Once the men have left she turns to me again, saying, “Remember what I said Vicky… anytime. You’ll always have my ear, or my support, if you ever need it.”

  “Thank you, Lisa. It means so much,” I reply, hugging her warmly, before we go and join the rest of the family outside in the warm sunshine

  Chapter 17

  Chris

  My heart in my mouth, I listen to the countdown which booms from the outdoor tannoy of t
he viewing platform at the side of the canon.

  “Five, four, three, two, one… BUNGEE!”

  On cue, Vicky leaps off the side of Kawarau Bridge, her ankles strapped together by the elastic bungee cord. She sails through the air like a beautiful eagle diving towards earth, before the cord reaches its maximum tension, her hands touching the shallow waters of the river below before she soars back up the cannon as the elastic retracts. The high-pitched tones of the track The Lion Sleeps tonight by the 80’s band ‘Tight Fit’ that plays loudly over the outdoor speakers, only partially drowning out her screams of delight as she bounces around in mid-air.

  A couple of minutes later she comes bounding back up the side of the canon taking two steps at a time. Brimming with enthusiasm and excitement she jumps on me, wrapping her legs around my waist.

  “Oh my God, Chris. Did you see me?! That was ab-sol-utely brilliant. I want to do it again.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this excited.

  “You were fantastic,” I reply. “I’m so proud of you.”

  Doing a bungee jump in Queenstown was one of Vicky’s bucket list things she’s always wanted to do, so we’ve decided to take off from Christchurch for a couple of days and make a whistle stop tour around the South Island. The first port of call on our road trip is Queenstown, the adventure capital of NZ.

  “I was so nervous, I can’t tell you. Especially when the lady in front of me bottled it right at the last minute. Did you see?”

  I had indeed watched the poor Japanese tourist who, after three or four attempts to coax her to make the jump, had to be embarrassingly unhooked and walked back off the bridge. “Yes, I was watching. I felt for you. It can’t have been easy being the next in line when the person in front of you backs down.”

  “That’s why I jumped on ‘two’. Did you see? I knew if I waited for ‘one’, I might hesitate and then not be able to do it. So when they counted backwards from five, I just went for it on two.” She’s so animated and full of life as she speaks, it’s infectious and I feel my heart flip over with love as I look into her smiling eyes.

  “I can’t tell you how scary it was being up there. A hundred times scarier than I ever thought it would be. When you’re stood out there on the edge of the platform, you have no choice but to look down as you can’t take a normal step forward because your feet are tied together obviously, so you have to shuffle.” Climbing down off me, she demonstrates the ’shuffle’, “And every part of your brain is screaming, don’t do it, don’t do it! Are you mad? You’re going to die. But then the feeling of flying is like nothing else I’ve ever experienced, Chris. I felt this rush of electricity jolt through me. I can understand now why people become addicted to adrenaline sports. It’s amazing. I’m still shaking now.” She holds out her hands to show me how much she is still trembling, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

  “I’m so very proud of you,” I say kissing the end of her nose. “Proud that you overcame your fear and did something completely out of character and totally bonkers. You’re becoming more like me with every passing day. I can’t imagine the stiff and stilted Vic-tor-ia I first met, who stood up from behind her desk and formally shook my hand, doing anything as crazy as this,” I say truthfully.

  It’s true. In the time we’ve been together I’ve watched Vicky blossom and grow, becoming more confident and more self-assured. She was always clever, warm and kind, but now she’s become more of her own person. Less naive, more experienced. Less fearful of life’s uncertainties and more willing to embrace new experiences and take risks. Her transformation is incredibly intoxicating to see and makes her even more attractive to both me and I fear, to every other hot-blooded male on the planet.

  “I know. It’s crazy. I think my mum might actually kill me when she finds out. She warned me specifically not to do this. She was filling my head with stories of people with detached retinas or broken backs before I came over … better not show her the VHS video of my escapades!” she giggles.

  “Well it’s a good job you didn’t die doing the jump then… if you need to be alive so that your Mum can kill you when you next see her!” I joke.

  “Ha, ha,” she replies sarcastically, punching me lightly on the arm.

  We only had time to stay in Queenstown for one night, arriving at tea-time yesterday following our long drive down through the Southern Alps, stopping only briefly to refuel and for Vicky to take the obligatory photos of the distinctive cloudy turquoise waters of Lake Takepo with the snow-capped peak of Mount Cook just visible in the distance.

  We spent the night drinking and dancing to the live rock band that was playing in the Red Rock pub, however there was a firefighters’ convention in town at the same time and the place was full of hunky superheroes, many of whom were eyeing up my girl. As usual, Vicky was completely oblivious to any attention she attracts from the opposite sex; but after the third guy ‘accidentally’ bumped into her as they squeezed passed in the crush, eliciting a natural and instinctive warm smile from her in return, I dragged her away back to the safety of our motel, before consuming her hungrily, reminding her that she belongs to no one but me. So after only one short day in Queenstown culminating with her leaping the 43 metres off the side of Kawarau bridge, we’re now on our way up the west coast. We’ll pitch tent somewhere off Highway 6 between Wanaka and the coast depending on how far we get before nightfall, which also depends on how many photo stops we make as we drive along the Haast Pass.

  When we were kids, Mum and Dad used to bring us all to this part of the country quite regularly on family camping trips, but it’s been years since I’ve had a reason to return. Seeing my country now through the innocence of Vicky’s wide eyes as she squeals and gasps at every turn when another stunning view opens out in front of us, or when she’s sharing another easy conversation with a fellow Kiwi, is giving me a new appreciation for Aotearoa. I feel like a parent who’s watching their child open the best gift they’ve ever received. I’m so pleased to be able to show her my homeland, and that she is having the opportunity to experience my incredible country for herself, instead of having to listen to me or my sisters tell her second-hand stories.

  After we buy the VHS of Vicky’s jump along with the obligatory souvenirs from the AJ Hackett shop (more trinkets for the illustrious shelf of tat) we resume our road trip, heading towards the rainforests of the west coast. Stopping briefly at the popular holiday destination of Wanaka we take a moment to sit on the shoreline of the beautiful lake, watching the ripples on the surface diffuse the sun’s rays, causing the light to twinkle magically. Licking smooth vanilla flavoured ice-cream from wafer cones, the cool rich diary cream melting on contact with our tongues, I watch Vicky methodically turn her cone round and round in her hand. Her tongue connects in rhythmic licks up the side of the ice-cream, catching each melted dribble just before it rolls down onto the back of her hand. Unable to watch anymore, I lie back on the grass to distract myself, a deep guttural groan of frustration seeps out of me as I imagine what else I wish her tongue was licking right now.

  “What’s up with you?” Vicky turns to look at me, unaware of the magnetic and instant effect she has on me, or how turned on I am right now.

  “Nothing,” I say lightly.

  “Ok,” she shrugs in response.

  Catching her by surprise, I jump up off the ground and pick her up, throwing her over my shoulder in a fireman-style lift as I run at full pelt towards the water. She shrieks with both surprise and delight, unsure whether I’m actually going to throw her into the water or whether I’m just bluffing.

  “My ice-cream,” she screams in protest, having now dropped the remnants of her cone onto the grass.

  “Forget about your ice-cream, Vicky,” I say, steadying her back onto terra firma at the water’s edge, our faces now nose to nose. I tuck a random strand of blonde hair that has escaped from her ponytail behind her left ear, as my fingers tenderly stroke the smooth arc of her neck.

  The moment doesn’t requir
e words, it’s just so perfect. The soft sunset that falls in the sky behind Vicky framing the beautiful view in front of me. When I last visited Wanaka as a child, I never imagined that when I next returned it would be with the greatest love of my life.

  We pitch our tent in the shelter of the sand dunes just north of Haast, where the Haast highway touches the Tasman Sea, before it curves back inland through the dense rainforest of the west coast. We’re lying on the ground, gazing starwards our fingers interlaced, Vicky’s head lying across my chest in our familiar pose.

  “Chris, we need to think about what happens next,” she says upwards towards the sky. “As blissful has these two weeks have been, they’re not real life - at least not for me. I feel as if this has been the most fabulously glorious holiday but I can’t stay here. I have a job and family back in England and even if I wanted to stay I’m not allowed to work and support myself. And it’s so so far away from my family. I’m not sure how I would feel being that far away permanently, which is why we have to talk about what we’re going to do for the next year or so, at least if we’re going to stay together.”

  “I don’t care what we do or where we go, Vicky, but now I’ve found you I never want to lose you,” I say, wrapping my arms around her waist pulling her into me and burying my face into the soft wool of her fleece. I’m not sure if the determination behind my words is to reassure her or to reassure myself.