The Paradise Trees

by Linda Huber

  She stood in front of him, holding the grapes to his mouth, but some sixth sense had told him that she wasn’t quite comfortable doing this so he’d only accepted two before offering her a wafer to eat by herself. Then she had chatted away again, telling him about the dog and her mother and poor Grandpa... she was absolutely enchanting. He would make his plans carefully now, ensure that her passing ceremony was indeed fit for a queen. He would enjoy her again, and much, much more.

  And at the end of the enjoyment they would have a beautiful midsummer ceremony before little Helen started her long journey to Paradise. Sunday would be a good day, a holy day, and it would give him time to plan everything perfectly.

  And to meet little Helen again, tomorrow and the next day and the next...

  Alicia

  The ringing of the house phone woke Alicia abruptly and she struggled upright on the elderly sofa, adrenalin rushing through her. She had fallen asleep after dinner, right opposite her father in his chair, and just for a moment on waking she’d been back in this house as a child. It was the same phone, the same ring tone, and her stomach shifted as fear gave way to tiredness. Hell. Another memory, half-disguised as a dream this time. A teacher had caught her and a little group of friends smoking after gym class one day and had threatened to call all their parents. He had, too. How terrified she’d been when the phone rang that evening and her father had answered it. Okay, thirteen-year-olds shouldn’t be smoking but it had been the first time, they’d only been trying it out and what kid didn’t do that? She had been grounded for a month and made to read some section of the bible, all about sins and vices, every night for an hour. All month. Over and over, her father listening righteously. However, he hadn’t touched her, and the punishment would have been fitting if there hadn’t been so much of it.

  ‘Mummy? It’s a lady for you.’

  Jenny put her head round the living room door and Alicia struggled to her feet. After a night chasing after her father every time he’d woken – four times – and then a day spent sorting through some of her mother’s old things she was completely knackered.

  She took the receiver from Jenny and sat down on the bottom stair.

  ‘Alicia? Hi, honey, it’s Sonja. Frank told me you were back in Lower Banford.’

  Hot tears of pleasure rushed into Alicia’s tired eyes. Sonja. Her old friend. Sonja and Cathal had been the best parts of her life back then.

  ‘Sonja. You sound like... like yourself!’ she said. ‘It’s lovely to hear from you, how are you?’

  ‘Great. We’ve been in Paris for two years now so the kids can chatter away in French, be a big advantage for them later. We’ve got a really nice house just up from the Champs Élysée, huge rooms and a fantastic conservatory which is marvellous for all the entertaining we have to do for John’s job. And as you can imagine the shops are brilliant. But tell me about you, Frank said your Dad’s been ill?’

  Alicia grinned to herself. Even as a child Sonja had been keen on the posher side of life and it sounded as if she really was living the dream now. She peered round the bannister to see if Margaret was in the kitchen, but the back door was open and there was her aunt halfway up the garden, heading towards the rasps with a colander in one hand. Good. She could talk openly.

  ‘He’s had a few strokes, plus he’s got dementia. I’m looking into a home for him but unfortunately Margaret’s dead against it. Frank’s been great, he’s a big support.’

  ‘Oh poor you. How awful. I’m glad Frank is there for you, how is he, do you think he’s okay? I was worried when he moved back to Lower Banford, I was afraid he was chasing the past and you know you can’t go back. He was distraught when Nell died and I really think he should have made a fresh start in a completely new place.’

  Alicia pictured Frank’s thin face. ‘Well, he’s a bit skinny but he seems positive enough. I didn’t know him well back then, but if I didn’t know about his wife I’d never have guessed he has such a tragedy in his life.’

  ‘It was a dreadful time for him. We were afraid he was going to lose the plot completely and end up in hospital himself. He and Nell were completely devoted to each other, he barely spoke for weeks after she died. Sounds like he’s a lot better now so maybe moving back was the right decision for him after all. I’ll see you both for myself next week, Alicia, I can’t wait to visit!’

  Happiness spread warmly through Alicia, an unaccustomed feeling in her father’s house. Sonja would soon be here.

  ‘Me too! And you can help me with some odd memories I’ve been having,’ she said impulsively.

  Sonja laughed. ‘Odd memories? Sounds intriguing. I’m sure your Dad never let anything in the least odd anywhere near you,’ she said. ‘We’ll stroll down memory lane together over a bottle of something, shall we? Alicia, I have to go, Logan has a fencing lesson in half an hour and I’m chauffeur as usual. I’m really looking forward to seeing you! Bye, honey!’

  Alicia found herself smiling as she replaced the phone. Sonja hadn’t changed, scatty but with a heart of gold nonetheless. She stood up and stretched, glancing through to her father in the living room.

  Sonja was wrong about one thing though. There were plenty of odd memories attached to those years. But soon they’d be able to sit down together and have a real talk. So one little thing – big thing, actually – had gone right today.

  Counting out her father’s evening pills, Alicia thought about Frank. It sounded like he’d been through the wringer when his wife had died. You’d never know it to look at him now, though. And he hadn’t mentioned it at all yesterday.

  Wasn’t that just a little strange?

  Chapter Eight

  Thursday, 13th July

  Alicia

  Tripping over her feet in her hurry, Alicia rushed into Jenny’s room and gently shook the little girl awake. By the smell of things Margaret was grilling bacon downstairs, and Alicia grabbed clean jeans and a t-shirt from Jen’s wardrobe and tossed them onto the bed.

  ‘My alarm didn’t go off, we’re running late. Get dressed, have breakfast, and don’t go off to play!’ she said, already halfway out the door. ‘Your bus leaves at ten, and Margaret won’t be pleased if she misses it because you and Conker are out gallivanting in the woods!’

  It had been Jenny’s own idea to go with Margaret and visit David and Sheila. Alicia had agreed, knowing that Jen would enjoy seeing Sheila preparing for the baby expected in September. The little girl was to come back by herself – with Conker – on the half past six bus. Alicia frowned uneasily. Margaret had assured her that she’d place Jen on the bus herself, and ask the driver to keep an eye on her. The journey took less than an hour, and with so much else to worry about, Alicia felt she needed to trust Margaret on this one. After all, no child needed an overprotective mother.

  Staggering around in haste, Alicia grabbed some clothes, anything at all would do in the meantime. Of all the days to sleep in. Now she had little more than an hour to get Jen organised for her trip, as well as get her father up, dressed and fed before Eva Campbell from next door came to sit with him. Tears welled up in her eyes as she scraped her hair back into one of Jenny’s scrunchies. She was just so tired. Her father was sleeping a bit better with the new pills but even one nocturnal excursion to his room left her half-dead the next day. The whole situation made her skin crawl, how she loathed being with him in the bedroom that reeked of old man. It was horrible, going in there at night, when it was dark and nobody else was awake... The nausea she’d experienced twice hadn’t returned, though, and neither had the young voice warning her about ‘the bad room’. Still, the sooner she could get him safely into St. Joe’s the happier she would be.

  She pushed her father’s bedroom door open and knew straightaway that she was in for a bad run. Again. The new pills maybe helped him sleep, but they had the unfortunate side effect of making him doubly incontinent. Determinedly closing her mind to the horrible thing she was doing, Alicia helped the old man out of bed and into the shower. As a nurse
she’d dealt with plenty of similar situations, but somehow it was a lot less bearable when it was your own father. Your own father who you didn’t love as a daughter was supposed to... but he hadn’t loved her either.

  She took him downstairs and then raced back up to deal with the bed and open all the windows. When at last she was sitting at the breakfast table with a slice of toast in front of her and the washing machine sloshing the bed linen around, Alicia just felt sick. It was tempting to start ranting to Margaret about St. Joe’s being better equipped to deal with incontinent geriatrics, but then her aunt would only say that if he hadn’t taken the sleeping pills in the first place they wouldn’t have that particular problem, which of course was entirely correct. There was no point in arguing.

  To her relief, Margaret took her tea upstairs to see to her bags. Alicia rubbed her face, aware that Jenny was staring at her.

  ‘Mummy, you look funny.’ Jenny’s brow creased in a worried little frown.

  ‘Thank you, darling, but I don’t feel in the least funny. Oh, I’m sorry, Jen, I’m tired because Grandpa wakes up in the night and needs me, that’s all. It’s nothing for you to worry about.’

  Jenny nodded, pushing her chair back and tossing her last bite of toast in the air for Conker to catch. Alicia glanced at her watch. Eva would be here in twenty minutes. No-one else knew about her visit to St. Joe’s. Alicia meant to make her own mind up, then talk to Frank and Margaret. She had phoned David the previous day and he’d promised to try to persuade his mother that the hospital wasn’t some kind of medieval torture chamber. But with or without Margaret’s approval, Alicia knew she would have to make other arrangements for her father before the end of the summer. Things couldn’t go on like this.

  ‘Mummy, I’ve got a secret,’ said Jenny, turning from the kitchen window where she’d been staring up to the woods.

  ‘Have you, darling? Is it a nice one?’ Alicia smiled as she carried the plates over to the sink.

  Jenny smiled back, her face dreamy, then hesitated. ‘Um yes, I think so,’ she said vaguely, and Alicia looked at her. At that moment the phone rang, and Jenny ran to answer it.

  ‘Daddy!’

  Alicia strode out to the hallway and took the receiver from Jenny. Her ex certainly had timing, she thought dismally.

  ‘What is it, Paul?’

  ‘Dear me, Alicia, how very abrupt you are, someone get out of the wrong side of the bed? I wanted a chat with Jen, to tell her about her new mum and about her visit to Singapore in the autumn.’

  ‘Jenny is not going to Singapore, Paul,’ said Alicia, hot fury rising in her gut. ‘Not for a visit and definitely not to stay.’

  ‘We’ll see. I’m putting my lawyer onto it,’ said Paul, and she could hear the sneer in his voice. ‘See you in court, Alicia.’

  Alicia banged the phone down, and turned to see Jenny staring up at her with huge, frightened eyes.

  ‘Oh, Jen darling,’ she began, and Jenny ran into her arms.

  ‘I don’t want to go to Singapore without you,’ she whispered, and Alicia hugged her, determination flooding through her as Jenny held on tightly. Of course Paul wouldn’t get custody. Most likely he didn’t even want it, he was just being mean, trying to make her life miserable, and he was probably enjoying it, too. But she was stronger than that, wasn’t she? Of course she was.

  With a great effort she jollied her daughter back into something resembling good humour, then accompanied the travellers to the bus stop and stood waving as the bus jerked towards the village shop. Right. So far, so good. Sort of.

  Eva Campbell joined her at the garden gate, knitting in hand.

  ‘On you go, dear, Bob’ll be fine with me for an hour or two,’ she said, accompanying Alicia inside where the old man was standing at the living room window, hugging his cloth cap to his chest very much as a child might hug a teddy bear.

  ‘Thanks, Eva. I won’t be long. Make yourself a coffee, you know where everything is, and my, um, Bob would probably enjoy a digestive too.’

  Alicia ran upstairs and pulled on black linen trousers and a pale green blouse. No point going to St. Joe’s looking like someone’s poor relation, she thought, applying blusher to her cheekbones. A squirt of perfume and she was almost a new woman.

  Alicia stared into the mirror, remembering the touch of Douglas Patton’s hand on her own, and the compassion in his eyes. Could he be interested in her? It was years since she’d had anything approaching a serious relationship, but somehow it was easy to picture herself with him. Grinning, she grabbed her bag.

  Don’t go into the bad room.

  This time the child’s voice could almost have been real. Alicia stopped dead, level with her father’s bedroom. Dear God, what had gone on in there? Had they left her in the darkness of her father’s bedroom as a punishment? Or had it been more than that?

  She stood there thinking. He might have abused her. Maybe not rape but he might well have undressed her, whipped her. Or had it been sexual abuse of some kind? In the name of religion? Surely not, and shit, she didn’t have time to think about this right now and she didn’t want to, either. Time to put the memories – if that was what they were – away. She would mull it all over later.

  The phone rang again as she was running downstairs, and for a moment Alicia toyed with the idea of leaving it. Better not, she decided, jumping down the last two steps and grabbing the receiver. If it was Paul again she’d well and truly scare him off. She didn’t want him bothering Eva.

  For a moment she couldn’t place the rather high-pitched male voice, then she realised. It was the pet shop owner.

  ‘Hello again, Mrs Bryson. Just to say the little cat’s quite well again, and I haven’t found anyone who’s lost him. He’s not chipped, either. Do you still want him?’

  Alicia hesitated and then remembered Jenny’s eyes as she’d stroked the kitten. After all, other cats lived in small flats and seemed to thrive quite well. And in a few weeks Jenny would be leaving Conker behind in Lower Banford, so a little cat to take home with her would ease that pain quite considerably.

  ‘I think so, yes. Shall we come and get him? Jenny’s away all day unfortunately, would this evening be okay? Around seven?’

  ‘That would be perfect. I live above the shop, just come in and shout. See you both tonight.’

  Wondering if she had done the wisest thing, Alicia drove to the care home, consciously relaxing her shoulders. It was wonderful to be by herself for a while, away from her father and all his problems. It wasn’t exactly me-time because she was still doing something connected to the old man, but at least she was getting out of the house for a bit.

  St. Joe’s looked exactly the same as it had done on Saturday when she’d been here with Frank. The same sunshine, the same old people sitting out in the same wheelchairs beside the same rose bushes. The fate of the aged, she thought, pulling up in the visitors’ car park in front of the house. Every day was pretty much a carbon copy of the one before.

  The front door was propped open, and Alicia walked into a wide hallway where two leather sofas were placed along cream walls with flowery prints hanging at various levels. It didn’t look like your usual NHS place, she should find out if any costs were involved here before committing herself to anything. No way could they afford a private home. Right at the back was a desk with a bell on it, but before she reached it, Douglas Patton ran down the stairway and strode towards her, hand outstretched.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Bryson - can I call you Alicia? You know I’m Doug.’

  His huge warm hand gripped hers, and Alicia realised that her heart rate had increased. He was obviously delighted to see her, towering over her with a big grin on his face. It was difficult not to feel like ‘the little woman’ beside him. A lovely flutter of excitement ran through her. She smiled, and regained possession of her hand. It wouldn’t do to seem too keen.

  ‘Sure. Well, here I am, and feeling a bit nervous. It’s a big decision.’

  Doug chatted reassuringly about
life at the care home as he led her upstairs and round the admissions ward, seeming to understand exactly what she needed to know.

  And really, the whole place seemed ideal. Alicia stood looking round the dayroom where some old people were watching cricket on TV. It was clean and bright, it didn’t smell too antiseptic and there was no school-dinner cabbage smell either. The nurses looked cheerful, and it was NHS. So maybe something, at last, was going to work out well for her this summer. There was nothing here that Margaret could possibly object to.

  ‘Isn’t that Mr French?’ she asked, looking at a shrunken old man sitting at the end of the corridor picking a hole in his cardigan.

  ‘Yes, do you know him?’

  Alicia smiled rather sadly. Harry French had been caretaker of her secondary school. He could always be depended on to retrieve tennis balls from the roof and he’d kept an eye on the playground games too, in case the footie got too rough. It was sad seeing him here like this, no longer his old vital self.

  Doug chuckled. ‘He doesn’t look it, but he’s a bit of a tearaway. His grandsons bring him cans of lager and officially he’s allowed one a day. The problem is he has an illicit stash that we’re not supposed to know about. Keeps him happy and we try to make sure that he doesn’t have more than two a day. We don’t always succeed. And the old chap over there’s just as bad. Jim Slater. He’s forever getting the ladies fighting over something or other. Real characters, both of them.’

  Alicia laughed. Jim Slater had been the butcher in Lower Banford, he’d been a real ladies’ man in those days too. Her father had disapproved, of course, and poor Mum always had to bike to Middle Banford for meat. It was nice in a way to know that the old people were still able to do their own thing here at St. Joe’s.

  Doug took her arm, and her heart rate doubled immediately.

  ‘Come and meet Derek Thorpe, he’s the charge nurse in this ward. Derek!’

  Derek Thorpe was emerging from a side room further up the ward. He came over, hand outstretched much as Doug’s had been and Alicia wondered in amusement if it was some kind of hospital policy.