At first it was lovely. We played games and Diane opened all her presents. Then her mum and auntie went to get the sausage rolls and bowls of crisps and jelly and ice cream ready in the next room.
That was when Lucy came over and whispered in my ear that she had a special surprise for Diane and she wanted me to help her fetch it, without the grown-ups or any of the other girls finding out we were gone. I remember feeling proud that Lucy had chosen to share her secret with me and not the other girls, and I followed her out into the cold hallway, while everyone else was playing a noisy game of blind man’s buff in the cosy living room.
Lucy put her finger to her lips and guided me along the corridor towards the back door. ‘The surprise is in the greenhouse,’ she whispered, struggling to turn the key quietly in the lock. She pulled the door open and we looked out. It was no longer lashing down with rain, but it was pitch-dark. The faint light shining through the curtains in the living room illuminated the garden path. The stones looked treacherous and slippery. The greenhouse itself was just a shadowy shape at the bottom of the garden.
Lucy told me there was a parcel in the greenhouse and I had to collect it.
I remember staring down the garden path, feeling sick, trying to pluck up the courage to go out into the darkness.
‘Go on. Quickly.’ Lucy was getting impatient. ‘I’ll wait here until you come back.’
So I did. I left the warmth of the house and started slip-sliding along the garden path towards the greenhouse. The bitter December wind tugged at my hair that Mum had curled specially for the party, and blew it wildly around my face. The walk seemed to take a long time and I screwed my eyes almost shut so I didn’t have to see the ghostly shapes of the plants and trees on either side of me.
When I reached the greenhouse, I couldn’t get the door open. I thought it must be locked. I remember pushing and pulling to no avail. I glanced nervously back up the path, knowing Lucy would be angry if I came back empty-handed. But she wasn’t there, and my heart rose up into my throat. The oblong of light where she’d been standing was gone. She had shut the door and left me outside in the pitch-black.
I started to walk back up the path, my heart racing, and that’s when the first drops of rain fell. Big, icy drops bouncing furiously off my head. The whole sky lit up as lightning forked overhead and then came the long crash and rumble of thunder.
I’d seen a story on the news about a man who’d been struck by lightning in his garden and he’d died right there. Panic choked my throat as the second bolt of lightning lit up the scary landscape around me. I tried to scream but I couldn’t. Then my foot caught something and I tripped and fell hard onto my knees.
The thunder crashed overhead, louder this time. As I scrambled to my feet, my hands touched something slimy on the path and it moved. I screamed because I thought it must be a rat.
I was going to die.
No one knew I was out here in the thunderstorm and the darkness. Except Lucy, but she wouldn’t care what happened to me.
I made it to the house, tears mingling with the icy rain on my face. I made my numb hands into fists and banged as hard as I could on the back door. The sound of ‘Jingle Bells’ was blaring out from inside, and another wave of panic seized me. I would be out here all night in the storm. No one would hear me because of the party music. I was going to die and Mum and Dad were going to be so sad …
Looking back, I think Lucy must have deliberately turned the music right up so no one would hear me battering on the door.
It probably wasn’t that long before I was missed, but for ten-year-old me, standing outside as the storm raged around me, it felt like hours. Finally, the door opened and there was Diane’s mum, standing in a pool of light. She pulled me in and all the kids came into the hall and stared at me because I couldn’t stop sobbing. Diane’s mum led me into the kitchen and gently dried my face and my hair with a towel. She fetched some clothes of Diane’s but I folded my arms and refused to take off my red velvet dress, even though it was all muddied down the front from when I fell.
Mum and Dad came to pick me up soon after that and took me home. For weeks, I was scared to go outside if it was raining. Even now, I get a slightly panicky, choked-throat feeling if I’m out and the sky looks threatening, especially if I’m a long way from home.
And I still can’t handle thunderstorms …
Chapter 23
As I curl myself into an even tighter ball, pulling my knees to my chest and burying my head there, I’m hoping and praying the storm will be over as swiftly as it arrived.
My neck and back ache where I’m stretching the muscles, bending over to protect my head with my arms. I’ve been on-line so many times, anxious to know how to survive a lightning strike, and most of the advice is the same: sit on the floor, then the lightning will probably rush up one leg and down the other, leaving your vital organs untouched. I’m not sure if that applies when you’re twelve feet in the air, in a treehouse, though. Perhaps what I’m doing is the worst thing of all …
Another huge lightning flash penetrates my screwed-up eyes and I tense my body even more, waiting for the long crashing noise that sounds like a monster hurling heavy furniture down the stairs. It’s so frighteningly close. The storm must be directly overhead, and I’m in the trees, which must be the worst place to be. But I can’t move from here. I just couldn’t make my legs do what I want them to do.
I’m stuck here until it passes.
Fuck! I can’t bear it!
The mantra! Say the mantra!
Slowly stirring the fruit and spices into my Christmas pudding. Smells so good!
A cold hand is gripping my insides, squeezing ever tighter. The panic is rising. Being alone in the storm is the very worst thing. When I was a child, Mum would come and sit on the bed and sort of hug me through the duvet. These days, I make sure I’m indoors with other people, preferably people who know about my phobia and will distract me and cluster round protectively and tell me I’m going to be fine.
I once read that if you’re alone, it helps to think of a calming image, so I know it sounds daft, but I always think of Stir-Up Sunday, the day I make my Christmas pudding.
Slowly stirring the fruit and spices into my Christmas pudding. Smells so good!
It’s not working.
I remember my phone in my pocket. I could call Paloma. She would come. Then my heart sinks. She’s away tonight at some graphics event in London. Oh God, who else … ?
I can’t phone Betty or Doreen and ask them to brave the raging storm for me. They’d think I was mad. And anyway, they’d never be able to climb up here without some help.
A vision of Jason swims into my head, sitting in the café with me earlier. Feeling that strange sensation that the years had magically rolled away and we were strong as ever. Still together.
I pull out the phone and stare at it.
Lucy has moved out, so Jason will be alone in the house. He’s a kind man. That’s one of the things I loved most about him. His kindness and gentleness. He understands my fear and he wouldn’t want me to be here, alone. I glance at the time. Just after ten. He’ll definitely still be up. Jason is a bit of a news junkie, so if he’s at home, he’ll be watching TV right now.
I draw a deep breath and find his number. Lucy gave it to me when we were arranging for her to bring the curtains round. It’s ringing …
I press the phone tightly to my ear to block out the sound of the rain peppering the treehouse roof. Jason, when he answers, sounds distracted at first but as soon as I mention I can’t move from the treehouse, he gets it instantly.
‘Oh God, Twi. The thunderstorm. Poor you. Look, I’ll be over in five minutes, okay?’
‘Okay,’ I repeat, not wanting to lose contact with him but knowing I have to. He ends the call. But he’ll be here soon.
I listen to the storm rushing relentlessly through the trees. It almost seems to be calling my name, but I’m obviously imagining it, desperate for Jason to be here already
.
I lift my head and really listen. Someone is calling my name.
I shout back, as loudly as I can, ‘I’m up here!’
The wind carries my voice away, so I shout again. And again. I don’t know how Jason got here so fast and I don’t care. He’s here and that’s all that matters.
‘I’m coming up,’ he calls, and I hear him scaling the ladder fast, paying little heed to how slippery it must be in the rain. This surprises me. Jason is usually far more cautious than that. He must be just desperate to get to me! A lump fills my throat just thinking of this.
I turn my head with a rueful smile, feeling embarrassed he’s had to come out in the storm, but knowing he understands me of old …
‘Twilight. Christ, are you okay?’
Theo Steel is standing in the doorway, staring down at me.
I gulp. ‘Yes. No. What are you doing here?’ I feel exposed. Vulnerable. And humiliated.
‘Is it the thunderstorm?’ He comes and crouches down beside me. ‘I was halfway back home when I realised I still had your bag in my backpack, so I turned around. I saw the house was in darkness and I remembered you said you hated thunderstorms, so I came round the back and found the door was still open from earlier.’ He lays his hand on my back. ‘Come on. I’ll help you get back to the house.’
I shake my head. ‘I’ll just stay here.’
He thinks for a second. Then he nods and sits down next to me, folding his long legs in the same way I have, arms casually round his knees, sitting close enough for our arms to be touching. It feels so blissfully good after being alone with my fear that my heart gives a little lurch of something approaching happiness, which feels unbelievable in itself.
Instinctively, I lean against him, taking comfort from the solid weight of him next to me. We stay like that for a while and gradually, a feeling of calm settles over me. I have the strangest feeling that as long as Theo Steel is by my side, nothing bad will happen.
When he finally murmurs, close to my ear, ‘I make a mean hot chocolate. Just so you know,’ I realise he’s gently suggesting we make a move indoors, but I don’t want to. I know I could get down the ladder and into the house with Theo’s help, but I’d rather stay here, right where I am, leaning against him like this, feeling his solid, reassuring presence.
But I know it’s silly. The storm has passed over and there’s no longer any reason to stay here.
Getting up, my legs feel stiff from sitting in a cramped position for so long. Theo holds out a hand and pulls me the rest of the way, then guides me onto the deck, closing the treehouse door firmly behind us. Then he descends the ladder first, staying just below me as I climb gingerly down the slippery rungs. If I miss my footing in the dark, he will catch me.
As we go in through the back door, I hear a car draw up outside.
Jason!
I go straight out through the front door to meet him as he gets out of the car.
‘God, sorry it took me so long,’ he says, taking my arms, concern written all over his face. ‘I couldn’t find my bloody door keys and I couldn’t leave the house unlocked.’
I smile. ‘Of course you couldn’t.’ I’d have run out of the house and left the door on the latch and to hell with it. But everyone is different. I’m just touched he got here.
‘Are you okay?’ He starts leading me back to the house. ‘I hated to think of you here alone, knowing how much you hate storms. But I’m here now. You’re not on your own any more.’ He looks over at the house and his expression changes. ‘But I see you’re not actually alone at all.’
When I glance over, I see Theo standing in the doorway, watching us.
I start talking, far too fast, feeling the need to explain to Jason. ‘Oh, yes. Well, I was on my own. When I called you. But then Theo – Theo Steel, that’s his name – well, he arrived and he sort of got me down from the treehouse.’ I give a little nervous laugh. ‘Thankfully. Otherwise I’d still be up there, a quivering wreck.’
‘Who’s Theo Steel?’ asks Jason lightly.
‘He’s – erm – a personal trainer.’ I laugh awkwardly. ‘I know. Imagine. Me working out! So basically, Theo’s getting me all hot and sweaty in return for as much cake as he can eat!’ Damn, that sounded terrible!
‘Right.’ Jason smiles and takes a step back. ‘Well, I can see you’re all right, so I’ll – um – leave you to it.’
‘Come in for a drink!’ I feel really bad now. Flustered at what Jason must think. ‘Oh, you’re driving. Well, a coffee, at least?’
Theo starts walking over. ‘Hi, I’m Theo. I take it you came to the rescue as well?’ He grins and the two shake hands rather stiffly.
‘This is Jason,’ I say quickly, and when Theo looks expectantly at me, I add, ‘My childhood sweetheart, you might say!’
Jason laughs, a little too heartily. ‘If you were acting in a movie from the last century!’
We all laugh then. It’s all so hilarious. (Not.)
I can feel this weird tension in the air and I can’t wait for them both to bugger off so I can be alone. As soon as I have this thought, I feel really guilty. Both of these men went out of their way to rescue me tonight!
What the hell is wrong with me?
‘Right, well, nice to meet you, Theo,’ says Jason. ‘I’d better be off.’
I glance at him sharply. Was it my imagination or was there an edge to his tone?
‘Yeah, me too,’ says Theo. He nods and smiles but there’s an odd tension to the set of his mouth and he continues to stand there beside me. We wave Jason off together, which feels weird, as if we’re a couple.
‘Hope I’m not encroaching on something,’ he says, as Jason’s car disappears.
‘No, no, of course not. Jason’s just – well, he’s a friend now.’ An awkward flush stains my face. ‘It’s a shame, actually. He’s had a row with his girlfriend and she’s walked out so he probably feels a bit lonely. But he’ll be fine. She wasn’t good enough for him anyway.’
Theo gives me a piercing look with those deep blue eyes, and I can’t fathom what he’s thinking.
Then he says, ‘Of course. His girlfriend is Lucy.’
‘Yes. How did you know?’
We walk back to the house and he ushers me over the threshold first. ‘You told me about a girl called Lucy who bullied you and stole your boyfriend, so I put two and two together.’
‘Well, you’re right. And Jason’s far too good for her.’
Theo walks on ahead, over to the counter. ‘Seems like you still really like him.’
‘Yes. I do. But as a friend.’ I’m not sure why I feel the need to add that last bit. Theo says nothing, just gets on with pouring out hot chocolate into two mugs he’s found on the kitchen dresser. They’re just there for display really so they’ll be in need of a dust, but I’m not going to tell Theo that after he’s been kind enough to make me a drink in the first place!
He brings the mugs and we go through to the living room, and I quickly draw the curtains to block out any evidence of storm still visible outside. I sink onto the sofa, and after a quick glance at the seating, Theo hands me my mug and sits down next to me, lounging into the corner so he’s almost facing me, long legs spread out and almost touching mine.
‘I used to have a weird fear of buttons when I was a kid,’ he says. ‘Grown out of it now, thankfully, otherwise I’d be spending my life in a onesie.’
I’ve just taken a sip of hot chocolate and almost choke with amusement at the thought. ‘I can see you as Superman. Or maybe Rudolph with the furry antlers on your hood.’
‘Thanks.’ He nods with fake modesty. ‘Yes, I’ve always been quite stylish.’
‘Buttons is a strange one, though.’
‘It is. At least yours is slightly more common.’ He raises his mug. ‘Here’s to weird phobias. So have you always been scared of thunderstorms?’
I don’t really like talking about it, but I give him a brief description of being stranded in the garden in the middle of a
humdinger of a storm, thanks to Lucy. I try to laugh it off, but I think he can see right through my bravado because he doesn’t even smile.
‘Kids can be so cruel,’ he says, shifting his position and leaning over to place his empty mug on the coffee table. When he sits back, he’s closer to me on the sofa, his thigh brushing mine, and suddenly, I’m acutely aware of his nearness. It’s like a giant hoover has come down from the sky and sucked all other thoughts right out of my head.
Every time he shifts slightly, I get tantalising wafts of shower gel or body spray blended with his own scent, which I very much like. It’s all in the nostrils for me, this attraction thing. And I think it’s the same for most people, even though they might not even realise it. Nothing personal but some people just stink! (And yet to someone else, they might smell like a garden of roses.)
‘Are you feeling better now?’
I’m so lost in the sensation of actually being attracted to a man after so long, it takes me a while to process the question.
‘Much better.’ I smile shyly, risking eye contact. ‘Thank you for rescuing me. And for the hot chocolate. I feel fine now.’ And it’s true. I do.
‘Good.’ He’s leaning sideways, his arm on the back of the sofa, looking at me with a strange intensity in those mesmerising blue eyes, and a powerful longing surges up and engulfs me. Suddenly I’m wondering what it would feel like to unbutton his shirt and run my hands over his broad bare chest and kiss the side of his neck right where his hair curls, soft and dark …
The eye contact goes on and my skin is tingling with an overwhelming desire to be touched. When he reaches over and gently shifts a strand of hair out of my eyes, the feeling of his fingers lightly brushing my temple makes my whole body quiver. He runs his hand down my cheek, cupping it in his palm for a moment and instinctively, boldly, I turn my lips towards it.
Love Among the Treetops Page 16