He shakes his head. ‘You don’t understand. I’m jinxed.’ He laughs bitterly. ‘I’ve tried to think of it differently but there’s no other way to look at it.’
‘Jinxed? But how? I don’t know what you mean.’
He stares off into the trees, his face bleak, lost in some private torment.
At last he turns and shrugs. ‘It’s just that everyone I love ends up … suffering … and there’s nothing I can do about it.’
I stare up at him. ‘Not everyone, surely?’
He gives a bitter smile. ‘Everyone I really love.’ He adjusts his position so there’s a distinct distance between us, then he runs his hands over his face and through his hair. ‘I know people call me the Lone Wolf, but it’s not through choice, believe me.’
I swallow. ‘I heard that you were engaged …’
The silence, as I wait for his response, is electric.
He closes his eyes, and immediately I wish I could take back what I just said. It’s obvious he’s still grieving – I just really want to understand.
‘Her name was Rachel,’ he says at last, opening his eyes and staring out at nothing.
‘How did you lose her?’ I whisper.
‘She died.’ He glances across at me. ‘Sorry, I try not to dwell on the past. You’ve caught me on a bad day.’
I shake my head. ‘There’s nothing to apologise for. You’ve obviously been to hell and back and I’m so sorry for that. But I think …’ I hesitate, not wanting to give an opinion where it’s not wanted. ‘I think you shouldn’t just rule out being in a happy relationship again. You shouldn’t give up on love.’
My words sound horribly clichéd, I know. But maybe it’s what he needs to hear.
He smiles wistfully. ‘You know, sometimes I think I’d like to be able to give my love to one woman for life, instead of trying to convince myself that casual relationships are better.’
I nod and his eyes burn into mine, as if he’s desperate to make me understand.
‘So why can’t you?’ There’s a note of desperation in my tone. ‘Love one woman, I mean.’
He shrugs. ‘Can’t take the risk. Not just for me, but for …’ He swallows and looks away. ‘For that person. I feel like I’m jinxed. And maybe I’m opting out of life, but I can’t face another devastating loss, so it’s easier to keep my love life simple.’
My head swims as I absorb his words. Finally, I croak a reply.
‘But I really think you’re wrong.’
‘I’m not.’ His tone is weary, but also resolute. This is a man who has made up his mind and will not be influenced by anyone …
‘Still, there’s nothing wrong with casual relationships, is there?’ he says, with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
‘I suppose not.’ I swallow, not much liking the waters we’re sailing into. ‘Speaking of casual relationships, are you and Olivia … ?’
He shakes his head.
‘God, sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.’ I don’t know why I did. It just came out!
‘No, it’s fine. I’m not saying I’m not tempted.’ He smiles.
I try to smile back, to show I’m okay with the idea of him fancying Olivia. I wish I’d never started this conversation.
‘Olivia’s beautiful, yes, but she’s far too earnest about the wrong things,’ he says. ‘I like a woman with a sense of fun, who doesn’t take herself too seriously.’
A feeling of relief floods through me at his reply. I’d felt sure there must be something going on between them. Of course, it doesn’t mean he won’t give in to Olivia’s flirting at some point in the future. She doesn’t seem the type to give up on a man at the first hurdle. But I’d really rather not think about that …
I want to ask him why he keeps on holding me at arm’s length. I’m not earnest about the wrong things, am I? And he does laugh at my jokes. So what is it that’s putting him off me? If all he wants is a casual fling, then I think I’d be all right with that …
I try again. ‘You’ve been unlucky so far in life but that doesn’t mean you’re an unlucky person. Perhaps your fortunes are about to change.’ My words sound desperate even to me, but something makes me plough on. ‘I think … I really think you should consider taking another chance on love. You owe it to yourself to be happy.’
I stare down at my hands, my heart beating uncomfortably fast.
After a taut silence, I look up at him. He’s just staring into space.
Then he turns. ‘I’m not unhappy. I’ve got a good life. But after what I’ve been through, it’s just not worth the risk. The utter devastation you feel when what you loved slips away from you. All over again.’
He brushes a gentle finger over my cheek. ‘And nothing you can say – lovely, funny, gorgeous Twilight – will ever change my mind.’
*****
I sit there by the tree for a while after Theo has left, thinking about the love he lost, and finally facing up to the terrible truth.
I’ve fallen hard for Theo Steel.
And in light of what he’s just told me – that he’s made up his mind to live a single life – it’s the worst thing that could have happened. It’s meant to be beautiful when you fall in love, but this … this is just devastating.
My limbs feel like lead and my head is all over the place.
I’m trying to summon the energy to get up and run on, when my mobile rings.
As I fumble in my pocket, it flashes through my mind that it might be Theo, phoning to say he’s changed his mind about being a lone wolf …
But of course it isn’t Theo.
It’s Mum and when I say hello, she immediately launches into a panicky speech that at first I can’t quite make sense of. Except that it’s about Dad and I know it’s not good.
‘Mum, slow down. What’s happened?’ My heart is in my mouth.
Just don’t let him be—
‘Oh, love.’ Mum’s voice sounds high-pitched and far away.
A cold hand grips my insides and squeezes.
‘Yes?’ I stop breathing.
‘He’s gone down with pneumonia. The doctor’s worried he might not even survive the night. Can you come straight away?’
Chapter 33
Somehow I make it to the hospital. And when I walk into Dad’s room, he’s just lying there with tubes coming out of him and so much machinery keeping him alive, it’s completely overwhelming.
Mum gets up from his bedside, looking grey and worn out, and we fall into each other’s arms, sobbing. I glance anxiously at Dad, suddenly wondering if he can hear us.
‘Any change?’ I ask.
Mum shakes her head. ‘Apparently the next twenty-four hours are critical. If he survives, the prognosis is good, but …’
I swallow hard and we leave the ‘but’ hanging in the air.
‘So …’ She attempts a bright smile. ‘How was your journey, love?’
‘Oh, fine. Well, horrible, but …’ I shrug. No need to tell her I sobbed the whole way, my face turned to the window, curled in a seat at the back of the compartment.
‘Have you eaten?’
I shake my head. ‘I couldn’t. However tempting rail food might be.’
This raises a small smile, although I’ve never seen Mum look so old. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for her this past year, looking after Dad and worrying constantly, and having no one to look after her … and now this.
‘Why don’t you go back to the house, now that I’m here?’ I suggest. ‘Get a few hours’ sleep?’
Even as I’m saying it, I know it’s a stupid thing to say. Of course she wants to stay, however exhausted she is. The next twenty-four hours are critical for Dad …
I take a seat in the green plastic chair Mum has pulled over to Dad’s bedside for me, next to hers. She takes my hand and squeezes it. And we look at Dad’s expressionless face, at the closed, lined eyelids that don’t look like his at all.
‘Don’t worry.’ I nudge Mum. ‘He’ll be awake soon enough
and making one of his terrible jokes.’
I look at Dad, hoping for a response. A small miracle. But there’s nothing.
Panic flutters in my chest. What if he never regains consciousness? What if we never even have a chance to say goodbye?
Beside me, Mum sighs. ‘You know, I’d moan about him telling the same funny stories to everyone who came to the house. What I’d give to hear one of his shaggy dog tales now …’
We make it through the night, taking it in turns to doze in the more comfortable, padded chair, and drinking scorching coffee in thin plastic cups in the bleak, unearthly hours before dawn when it seems as if we’re the only people in the world awake.
At around six, I fall into an uneasy sleep, slouched in the chair. And I’m woken by Mum’s voice calling, ‘Nurse! Nurse!’ followed by a sudden burst of activity around me. I sit up, startled, and see that Dad’s eyes are open. My heart lurches as I watch the nurse checking his vital signs, and I pray she’ll give us good news. Mum is gripping my hand tightly and watching with the same intensity.
The nurse turns and smiles at us, and a wave of relief floods through me.
He’s survived the worst. It was touch and go but it seems that for now, at least, we’ve been given a reprieve, the three of us.
My little family.
Still together …
*****
I stay in London for a week, taking the strain off Mum and Auntie June by sitting with Dad for hours at a time.
We talk about anything and everything, and once he’s sitting up in bed and more like his normal chirpy self, I break the news about Lucy and her rival café. He listens in silence as I describe the disaster of opening day at The Twilight Café, Lucy springing such a devastating surprise on me, and how Lucy & Olivia’s Clean Food Café has been in the local newspaper and on national TV, and how it’s been choc-full of customers practically every day since it opened.
He knows a bit about the retail trade, my dad, having run his country goods store for more than twenty years. When I finish my emotional tale, he takes my hand and says, ‘Those cut-price offers of hers will be squeezing her margins to practically zero. No business can survive long like that. She’ll go bust within six months. Unless she keeps on throwing Daddy’s money down the black hole.’
It sounds brutal the way he said it, but I know he’s just being really protective of me. And deep down, I hope he’s right.
The trouble is, Dad doesn’t know Lucy like I do. I got the upper hand when she plummeted into the trough at the charity run. Lots of runners must have spotted her up to her eyes in smelly green slime. I made her a laughing stock and knowing Lucy, I have an uneasy feeling there will only be one thing on her mind now.
Revenge.
Chapter 34
Sitting on the train as it speeds back to Hart’s End, I’ve got a bad case of butterflies in my stomach.
I’m both excited and nervous about seeing how Jake’s work is progressing on The Treehouse Café. Also, having left halfway through the charity run after receiving Mum’s desperate phone call about Dad, there are certain things I’m going back to that were left up in the air.
My dramatic confrontation with Lucy.
And the realisation that I’ve fallen for Theo Steel.
I feel bad for Jason. He seemed so certain we had a future together when he spoke to me so urgently at the start of the 10k. But although it felt lovely and familiar kissing my first love, it was nothing compared to the way I felt just being close to Theo – every nerve ending tingling, feeling fully, ecstatically alive …
When Theo sat beside me under the tree after my clash with Lucy, I knew without doubt that I was in love with him, but it was so bittersweet. I felt heady with the thrill of being near him but devastated at the same time, knowing there was no hope for us.
I’ve tried so hard over the past week to push him from my mind because there’s really no point. Theo seems to have this unshakeable belief that he’s cursed when it comes to people he loves, and I can’t imagine where I would even start trying to convince him he’s wrong. I’ve felt the sting of rejection by him several times already. I’m not sure I could bear it if it happened again …
It was hard saying goodbye to Mum and Dad, and getting on the train, because I wanted to stay and be there for them.
But just before I left, I went in to see Dad, who was sitting in his favourite armchair, watching an old episode of Inspector Morse. When I sat on the arm to lean over and hug him, he held me really tightly and said, ‘You know, love, the best thing you can do for your mum and me is to go back to Hart’s End, get The Treehouse Café up and running, and show that Lucy Slater how it’s done. Okay?’
I smiled at him. ‘Okay, Dad.’
‘And make sure Betty and Doreen are on standby because when I get home, I’m spending a whole day fishing on that riverbank. With you.’
I smile and nod, my throat closing up.
‘It’s been keeping me going ever since I’ve been down here,’ he says. ‘I’ve got the clearest picture in my head. It’s going to be dry and sunny with not a breath of wind to ruffle the surface of the water, and we’ll toast each other with hot coffee from my old flask and slabs of your home-made lemon drizzle cake.’
I laugh. ‘Okay, Dad, I’m on it. Shall I dig out the hip flask as well?’
He grins and squeezes my hand. ‘You’re getting the idea. Now, get back to Hart’s End and that treehouse. I can’t wait to see it.’
*****
The train glides into the station and I alight, smiling wistfully as I recall Theo practically lifting me off onto the platform the last time. My foolish heart is beating faster, just knowing he’s nearby and I could bump into him around the next corner.
Walking along the high street, I’m so deep in thought – wondering how long it takes to get over someone you’ve never even been out with in the first place – I almost don’t notice the two people emerging from The Three Blackbirds pub. Then with a shock, I hear a laugh I recognise.
Theo.
He’s lingering at the entrance, chatting with the woman, who has bright blonde hair and a very slim figure in jeans and a white T-shirt. Casually, he drapes his arm around her shoulders and she leans into his side, turning slightly so finally, I can see who it is.
My heart sinks like a lift plummeting all the way to the basement.
Olivia.
I nip into a shop doorway and watch as they walk together along the high street. They’re on the other side of the road, walking away from me, so there’s no chance I’ll be spotted.
They look very at ease in each other’s company, and a pang of pure, green-eyed jealousy punches me in the stomach. I didn’t think it would be long before Olivia won Theo over … and seeing them looking so cosy together, I was right.
I set off, following them, walking at a distance but keeping them in my sights all the time. I feel sick. I know I shouldn’t be trailing them – I’m really not some sort of mad stalker – but my legs seem to have a will of their own. I need to know where they’re going. If it’s back to her place, I don’t know what I’ll do …
They turn off the high street and head up a little alley, so I quickly cross the road and follow them. Apart from a church, there’s little else along there except green fields.
As I round the corner, I’m just in time to see Olivia stretch up on tiptoe and kiss Theo on the mouth. He grabs her and kisses her back, and my heart turns over. Olivia does a cute, flirty wave and heads back up the alley, so I quickly nip back into another shop doorway until she’s walked off along the high street.
Cautiously I peer round the corner, just in time to see Theo walking into the churchyard, through the little lych gate. My heart swoops in sympathy. Oh God, perhaps he’s visiting Rachel’s grave. Watching from a discreet distance, sure enough I see him standing, solemn and still, by a grave just inside the churchyard entrance.
My throat feels thick with emotion. How often does he visit Rachel’s grave like this?
I long to be there for him, to help him get over his grief.
But he doesn’t want me …
At last, he starts walking slowly back in the direction of the high street, and I go into the nearby newsagent’s and buy a newspaper. When I come out, he’s nowhere to be seen. I linger for a while. Then I start walking round the corner to the church. I don’t know why, but I have to see for myself.
Slipping through the gate, I find the grave and when I read the words there, my heart starts beating uncomfortably fast.
Margaret and John Steel, loving parents of Theobald. Missed every day but you will live in my heart forever.
A lump fills my throat. It’s not his fiancée, Rachel, as I’d assumed.
Poor Theo, losing both his parents …
Then I read the dates, and two things strike me.
Margaret and John Steel died on the very same day.
And they were only in their forties.
I stand there, just as Theo did ten minutes earlier, staring at the gravestone, feeling utterly shell-shocked. His parents must have perished in some kind of accident. And saddest of all, if my calculations are correct, when the tragedy happened, Theo was little more than a boy.
After such a devastating blow so early in life, then losing his fiancée as well, I’m starting to see why Theo would feel so terrified to love someone …
*****
I head back to Honey Cottage and start unpacking, my head full of Theo’s sad past.
It’s nearly five o’clock by the time I’m finished. Betty and Doreen will be preparing to close up the café. I decide to call in and see them.
They greet me like their favourite niece, fussing over me. Betty takes my backpack and Doreen starts brewing my favourite coffee, and after asking about Dad and anxiously enquiring after Mum, they chatter away about how much they’re looking forward to working in the treehouse.
‘Jake’s been in here every day this week,’ says Betty. ‘Nice big strapping lad. Isn’t he, Doreen?’
‘Oh, yes. He’s very partial to my cherry macaroons. And the treehouse is coming on in leaps and bounds. Have you seen it?’
‘No, not yet. But I can’t wait.’
Love Among the Treetops Page 23