Almost Lost

by Blake Pierce

  Madison burst into tears, and Dylan nodded somberly. His face was still empty of emotion. Needing comfort herself, Cassie hugged Madison, rubbing her shoulders, and dug in her pocket for the wad of Kleenex she’d put there in preparation.

  She felt completely thrown by this alternative version. She had no idea why Ryan had said what he did. He hadn’t discussed this with her first, or even hinted he would say anything other than the truth.

  Surely he should have asked Dylan if he’d noticed anything wrong, or if there had been any change in the rabbit’s food, or if he’d been accidentally injured, or any of the myriad other things that could have happened?

  Well, it was too late now, and she couldn’t step in. She was about to stammer out some comforting words herself, to scrape something coherent together, when Ryan took her voice away all over again.

  “Here are his ashes,” he said, and produced a glass jar filled with ash.

  It could only have come from the fireplace. Cassie had noticed he’d cleaned it out after they had arrived back from the pub. He’d buried Benjamin—well, she guessed that much was true. He certainly hadn’t burned the rabbit and a house fire wasn’t hot enough to cremate a bunny in any case; it would just have roasted him.

  Nausea flooded her at that thought, and she swallowed hard.

  “I thought we could all have a cup of tea now and talk about Benjamin, remember him for the amazing bunny he was. And then when the rain has stopped, we can go and scatter his ashes into the sea.”

  Madison was still shuddering with sobs. “That’s so sad. But it sounds good, Dad.”

  Dylan’s face was like stone.

  Cassie suddenly felt a stab of horror. What if the rabbit’s death had affected her own memory and she was the one who had misremembered everything? Gaps in her memory had occurred before, admittedly when she’d been under stress, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t recur at other times. Those gaps had been terrifying. Days later, she’d recalled incidents that her mind had completely blanked out at the time—and her overactive subconscious had presented alternative versions in the form of nightmares, so that after a while, she hadn’t known what was true and what not.

  It was horrific to think that Ryan might have said, “Let’s take the little guy to the vet—he could just be in a deep coma,” and she had heard, “I’ll bury him in the garden.”

  Cassie resolved that she would ask Ryan that night, while they were having their customary glass of wine that had turned into a nightly ritual.

  She wanted to know for sure if she was remembering this right, or if the nightmares and false memories were starting up again.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  As soon as the rain cleared, Cassie headed out to the bluff with the family.

  Dylan led the way carrying the jar of ashes, Ryan followed close behind him, and Cassie walked at the back, holding Madison’s gloved hand tightly in her own. She was feeling tearful again, and knew it would take all her self-control not to break down.

  “You were a good bunny, Benjamin,” Dylan said solemnly.

  Cassie pressed her lips together to prevent sobs erupting. This was Dylan’s chance to grieve; it was not for her to grab attention away from him. Hopefully she could blame the cold wind for the tears in her eyes.

  “You were the best,” Ryan added.

  “An amazing bunny. I’ll miss you,” Madison agreed.

  Madison had been tearful earlier but was calmer now, and Cassie thought that perhaps Ryan’s instincts had been right, because although unusual, the ceremony was allowing them all to have closure for the death of their pet.

  “I thought you were lovely, Benjamin. Rest well,” Cassie said.

  She hiccupped out a sob before holding her breath to try and prevent an onslaught of tears.

  She had expected that Dylan would open the jar and scatter the fireplace ashes to the wind, but he didn’t. He weighed it briefly in his hand and then tossed it out over the bluff.

  The setting sun glinted on the glass as it tumbled and fell out of sight. The sea was raging so hard that she didn’t hear it hit the rocks, far below.

  That did it for Cassie.

  Letting go of Madison’s hand, she dropped to her knees, doubling over on the soaking, muddy grass with her head buried in her arms. Sobs burst out of her, rough and unstoppable.

  “I’m so sorry,” she gasped. “It’s all my fault, I’m to blame. I should have done more. If I had done something earlier it might all have been OK.”

  Grief overcame her and her sobs turned into cries.

  “Oh, Cassie, don’t be sad.”

  Madison wrapped her arms tightly around her, just about climbing on top of her as she tried to comfort her.

  “It’s not your fault. Not at all.”

  Ryan crouched down beside her, stroking her hair, pushing the locks away from her tear-drenched face.

  “Don’t be sad, lovely,” he murmured to her. “Or I’m going to start to cry, too.”

  Gradually, Cassie regained control and climbed to her feet. Her jeans and top were sodden.

  “I’m sorry for that,” she muttered.

  “I understand. Sometimes you need to let out what’s inside you, and that can only happen when you feel safe enough,” Ryan said.

  She felt grateful that he understood.

  “Now we’d better get you into some dry clothes. Let’s all have a glass of sherry and roast those chestnuts over the fire, so we can warm up before supper.”

  Ryan and Madison helped her to her feet and they walked into the house. In her bedroom, Cassie spent a few minutes breathing deeply, until she was sure there would be no more outbursts of tears. Then she changed into a dry top and fresh pair of jeans and dabbed a cold cotton-wool pad over her swollen eyes. Finally, she felt ready to rejoin the family.

  As she left her bedroom, she almost bumped into Dylan, who was standing outside. She felt a wave of guilt about being complicit in the alternative story he’d been told. Did he suspect it wasn’t the truth?

  To her astonishment, he gave her a quick, clumsy hug.

  “Feel better?” he asked in a low voice.

  “Yes, I do. What about you?”

  He shrugged.

  “I’m OK.”

  She waited for him to move aside, but he didn’t. Instead, he asked her, “You never told my dad that I took those sweets from the shop, did you?”

  Cassie took a deep, shaky breath.

  “I never found the right moment and in the end I decided not to. If you do it again, I’ll have to, though.”

  He considered this in silence for a few moments and she looked at his expressionless face and wondered what exactly this highly intelligent, but strangely dissociated boy was thinking.

  “I like you, Cassie,” he said.

  “Thank you.” She felt taken aback by the compliment, which she’d never expected to receive.

  “We can talk more another time. And I’ll tell you other stuff you need to know.”

  Now she felt a twinge of misgiving; where was this conversation headed?

  But Dylan seemed to have had his say. He turned around and headed for the kitchen, with Cassie following close behind.

  In the kitchen, Ryan poured sherry for the whole family—Madison received a tiny sip, just a thimbleful, and Dylan received a child’s glass. They all toasted the bunny and drank their sherry, and then the children showed her the best way to roast the chestnuts, while Ryan cooked fish fingers and chips.

  Cassie felt grateful for the close support of this family, and realized how much she felt a part of it already. She knew she would always remember this evening; the smell of the chestnuts roasting, the children’s faces flushed in the warmth after the cold outdoors, and Ryan preparing comfort food which everyone would enjoy.

  Even so, she felt unsettled by what had happened that afternoon. When she and Ryan joined each other for their nightly glass of wine, she promised herself she would ask him why he’d done what he did.

  *
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  For the first time ever, Ryan wasn’t sitting out on the balcony but was in the family room, on the settee overlooking the ocean.

  “It’s not just the cold, it’s the wind,” he explained when she arrived. “It would blow the glasses right out of our hands.”

  He patted the cushion beside him and she sat down, being careful to keep some space between them and not to involuntarily brush against him, or do anything that might hint to him how head-over-heels she was.

  “I wanted to discuss the way you explained Benjamin Bunny to Dylan,” she said hesitantly.

  She was nervous about bringing the subject up—so nervous that she felt it would be better to get it over and done with.

  “Yes. It wasn’t what happened, was it?”

  “No. That’s what I’d like to talk about.”

  She felt a pang of relief that she hadn’t misremembered and wasn’t going mad. There had been an alternative version.

  “I’ll gladly explain. I was very troubled, and thought hard about what to do, and I only reached a decision after we were back from the pub. You see, Dylan’s an extremely sensitive child. His IQ is off the charts. Super intelligent. I think, at times, it can put him at a disadvantage. He reacts differently from other children.”

  Cassie understood what he meant. Dylan didn’t behave normally, and he acted out his anger in strange ways.

  Ryan continued. “I thought that it would be more comforting for him to know that Benjamin had a proper diagnosis and was cared for as he passed away. Otherwise he might have gotten upset, or even blamed us. There’s the school play coming up, it’s his chance to shine in public, which is very new to him, and I don’t want anything to spoil that.”

  Cassie nodded reluctantly. She accepted the explanation—sort of. She took a sip of wine and put her glass down on the table.

  “There’s another reason,” Ryan said softly.

  “What’s that?” Cassie turned to him, anxious to know.

  “Oh, Cassie, can’t you tell?” Ryan moved closer to her and she felt a jolt of pure electricity as his blue gaze met hers.

  “It’s because you’re here. I’m desperate for you to love us as a family, and not to want to leave. Look, we are as we are. I’m not hiding anything from you. But I want you to see us at our best, without any unnecessary drama. You make me want to be my best.”

  He leaned toward her, so close she could see the tiny gold flecks in his pale blue irises. She had enough time to feel a jolt of excitement and panic at what was going to happen. Then they were kissing, and as the kiss deepened her head started spinning with delight and the sheer physical desire that this intimate contact was awakening.

  Ryan pulled away. He was breathing hard.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Please forgive me, that was way out of line and I apologize for it.”

  Cassie’s heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could feel it. But she had to seize the moment. This was her chance to tell him, and show him, how she felt. She pulled him close, locking her arms round him.

  “Don’t apologize. I’ve been longing to do this—well, ever since I met you.”

  “Oh, Cassie. From the moment we met, I hoped this would happen,” Ryan murmured. “I know you’ve only been here a short time, but it doesn’t seem that way. You’ve become a part of us, and I can’t imagine life without you. It’s as if you were always meant to be here.”

  Then they were kissing again, more passionately, and she felt his hands slip under her shirt, warm against her skin, and although a tiny voice inside her was protesting that this was not the time or place to go so far, she didn’t have the power to silence it.

  But Ryan eventually drew away.

  “We can’t go on like this, Cassie, it’s not right.”

  Hearing this, reality hit her with a slap. Of course he was right. It was not appropriate and could not continue, and from now on she’d better try to have some damned control over herself.

  Then she took in his next words.

  “I haven’t even taken you on a date yet. And I want to do that first, and to do this properly, because you deserve the very best.”

  He drew her toward him again, and that roguish smile warmed his face and eyes.

  “Are you free tomorrow night?” he whispered.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  When Cassie woke up the next morning, she found an envelope pushed under her bedroom door.

  In Ryan’s forward-tilted hand it read:

  Treat yourself to a new outfit! It’s Date Night tonight! See you later—R

  The envelope was filled with cash—Cassie was overwhelmed by Ryan’s generosity. This would cover everything from shoes, to dress, to coat—and, most importantly, underwear. She was amazed by his thoughtfulness.

  Cassie read his note over and over again and in between reading it, she immersed herself in the memories of what had happened last night. The passion of their kiss, and the way he had touched her. The way he had looked at her, as if she was everything in the world to him, and the words he had spoken. He’d told her that she was needed and valued, a part of the family, and that he couldn’t imagine life without her. That meant more to her than he would ever know.

  Without a doubt, Cassie knew Ryan was the man she’d always dreamed of.

  She hugged herself, feeling a sense of unreality that she had landed in a fairytale come true. It could easily have turned out differently. Imagine if she’d ignored Jess’s advice to call Ryan, and missed out on everything that had followed.

  Cassie could see herself living in this house forever. She could make a life for herself in this beautiful village, a life filled with happiness and love.

  Both the children remarked on her good mood as she cracked jokes about the rainy weather and tested them on their lines for the school play the next day.

  As it was a wet day, she drove them to the bus stop again and waited until they were safely on board. Then, instead of going back home, she headed into town to buy her date night outfit.

  Two hours later, she’d chosen the most beautiful dress she could find. Ryan’s generous allowance covered every item of clothing she needed, as well as makeup, and there was still money left over so she bought Ryan a travel pack of shampoo and shower gel—choosing what the saleslady assured her was the hottest men’s brand on the market. It was a useful gift, and also a hint that one day, they could travel together.

  She found it bizarre to think that a week ago, she’d been deliberating about going back to the States and in fact had almost done so.

  Now, the States felt like a distant dream, and the desire to go back seemed foolish and shortsighted. Her adventure, her future, her reality was here.

  She spent the rest of the morning tidying up and preparing a simple supper for the children. It felt weird, but exciting, that she wouldn’t be there to share it with them.

  At two o’clock she heard the front door open and realized with a twinge of annoyance that the unpleasant cleaner, Harriet, had arrived. She’d forgotten that Friday was her other day. Trying to channel her inner goodness, Cassie resolved to be polite to her and to assume that she’d been in a bad mood on Monday.

  Today, Harriet did in fact seem in a better frame of mind. Her hair color had washed out, and was now the barest hint of pink, but her fingernails looked freshly painted in silver glitter. Cassie couldn’t help noticing once again how pretty she was, as she responded politely to Cassie’s greeting.

  The mood in the house darkened when Harriet came out of Cassie’s bedroom.

  “You been shopping?” she asked, carrying the plastic bin liner that contained some used Kleenex, and the packaging and labels that Cassie had cut off all the clothes she’d bought.

  Cassie looked up, alarmed. Was it an accepted thing to root through people’s dustbins when you emptied them?

  “That’s the evening gown shop in town,” Harriet commented, reading the label. “Pricey.”

  “The school play’s coming up. I wanted something ni
ce to wear tomorrow,” Cassie said.

  She knew it was a lie, but sensed that the truth would send Harriet’s mood over the edge. Cassie still didn’t know if she had an actual crush on Ryan, or was simply a jealous type who didn’t like anyone having something she didn’t.

  There wasn’t much to do in the house. When she left to fetch the children, she was confident that Harriet would be gone by the time she returned.

  Harriet wasn’t. She’d been tidying the already tidy kitchen, and had taken out all the coffee cups and glasses and put them through the dishwasher. Now she was putting them away.

  Suspicion filled Cassie as she wondered whether Harriet was deliberately killing time so that she would be home when Ryan arrived.

  “Are we all done here?” she asked, trying to sound cheerful. “Come into the kitchen, Maddie, I’ll make you some tea.”

  “I’ve still got to tidy the lounge and sweep the porch,” Harriet said.

  Cassie felt like asking her in an outraged tone, “Sweep the porch?” It was still drizzling and anyone could see there was absolutely no point in sweeping or tidying anywhere outside with more wind and rain expected.

  She forced herself to smile sweetly, not wanting to end up in an argument with the cleaner. At least Harriet was going to be out of the kitchen, which meant Cassie could make tea, lay the table, and get the children’s supper into the oven.

  Eventually Harriet returned to the kitchen. Glancing at the clock, Cassie saw that it was now after six o’clock. Long past her finishing time, and still she was here.

  “I found this on the couch,” she said, holding up a vanilla chapstick. “Belong to anyone?”

  “That’s mine. Thanks so much. It must have fallen out of my pocket last night.”

  Cassie took the chapstick, glad to have it back. She’d looked for it at lunchtime and when she hadn’t found it, had assumed she’d dropped it in town while she was trying on clothes.

  “That was when you were kissing my dad,” Madison said, looking up from the word game book she was busy with at the kitchen table.