The Paradise Trees

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The Paradise Trees Page 13

by Linda Huber


  ‘But, Jen darling, I must know who you were playing with. Is it a grown up, or another child?’

  ‘It’s alright, it’s a grown-up, and you know him. It’s quite alright, Mummy. You would say yes. Really you would. But it’s a secret, I can’t tell you.’ Jenny put her fork down and reached for her glass.

  Alicia felt almost breathless. Things seemed to be spiralling right out of control at the moment, there was hassle just everywhere. Her father and Margaret, sleazy Kenneth Taylor and his cats, those bloody flashbacks, Paul, and now Jenny with someone she herself knew who called himself Oberon, played at fairies, and was ‘quite alright’. Could she make Jenny tell her who this person was?

  Oh, for heaven’s sake, she thought. It’ll be one of the neighbours for sure, who else could it be? John Watson often went mushrooming or herb-gathering in the woods, and he was a retired English teacher... he’d been very involved in the ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream’ production too, according to Eva Campbell... yes, of course. Stop being so neurotic, woman. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have plenty of other things to worry about right now.

  ‘Mr Watson, bet I’m right,’ she said cheerfully, and Jenny looked at her, a little smile on her face.

  Feeling more settled about the episode, Alicia pondered what to do about Paul. She had an old school friend who was a lawyer, and she could be sure of straight answers and real help from Louise. But the most important thing was to make sure she took charge of the situation when Paul arrived this afternoon. He really didn’t have a leg to stand on. Or did he?

  The Stranger

  The decision had been made; in fact it had almost made itself. He would put his plan into action on Saturday. At the weekend he would have just that bit more freedom both to control what was going on at St. Joe’s, and – most importantly – to persuade little Helen to come back home with him. And then of course he wanted plenty of time to enjoy being with his perfect little almost-angel before sending her off to his own Helen. Then on Sunday, when he already had two angels in Paradise, it would be big Helen’s turn.

  He had laid the first stone in his plan already. The forecast for the weekend was good, and Little Helen had promised to meet him at the special place on Saturday morning, as soon after breakfast as she could. He had been coy, the promise of a special Saturday surprise had been enough. He had hinted about kittens and that was all that was needed to have her clapping her hands and jumping with excitement. It would definitely be alright, she said, Mummy always did the housework after breakfast.

  So now there were things to be bought. Plan B would involve leaving little Helen alone in his flat for an hour or two. Of course it was impossible to know exactly how the various people participating in the plan would react, so he couldn’t organise things in as much detail as he would have liked. This meant he had to be prepared for a number of eventualities. Which was why he was standing in the gardening section of Merton’s biggest department store.

  ‘Can I help you?’ An assistant was looking at him with cow’s eyes, big and brown with eyelashes clogged with mascara.

  He shuddered. How very much he preferred his three lovely, natural Helens. ‘I’m looking for cord to tie a sapling to a stake,’ he told her, surprised and pleased that his brain had worked out such a good answer on the spur of the moment.

  Ten minutes later he was heading for the soft furnishings department, a length of beige coloured nylon cord safe in his pocket.

  The next assistant was an older lady with a grandmotherly figure and thick glasses. She approached him while he was looking round a confusingly large selection of material, searching for something golden to do duty as a robe. This time, he had his request ready.

  ‘I want something golden to make a throw for my daughter’s bed,’ he told the assistant. ‘She’s always playing Kings and Queens.’

  ‘Bless her,’ said the woman fondly. ‘We have ready-made throws, you might find something there.’

  And how incredible, there was a golden throw, made of heavy, shiny material. Who would have thought that finding a golden robe would be so simple? It was proof that the whole plan was simply meant to be. He bought the throw, and as the material was rather scratchy he bought a fluffy yellow baby blanket as well, soft and sweet.

  Back in his car he examined his purchases carefully. Perfect, perfect. The cord would tie little Helen up safe and sound while he wasn’t at home. The fluffy blanket would keep her warm and cosy, and the throw would make the whole occasion regal and dignified. He could cover her with it or they could use it to lie on. Oh, it was going to be so good. The anticipation was delicious.

  Tomorrow would be Wednesday. He’d start the other preparations then. There was big Helen to see to as well. And on Saturday, another angel would be winging her way to Paradise, and his own darling Helen would be so, so happy.

  Just three days to go.

  Alicia

  Standing at the bus stop with Jenny and Conker, waiting for Margaret’s bus to appear round the corner, Alicia could feel the tension in her neck. She would get a headache if she wasn’t careful, what a God-awful afternoon it had turned into, first with Paul’s arrogant phone call, and then having to rush back from Merton in time for his visit. There had been no time to look for an internet café. She should have been late; it would have served him right. And poor Jen, she’d been terribly nervous before Paul arrived, though her father hadn’t half exerted his charm. Alicia shuddered. What had she ever seen in the man?

  The bus drew up, and Jenny jumped up and down excitedly, waiting for Margaret to get off. Conker was bounding around too, anyone looking at them would think they were all as happy as Larry. Alicia fixed a smile on her own face. If you can’t beat ’em...

  ‘Auntie Margaret, guess, just guess who visited us this afternoon!’ cried Jenny, as soon as Margaret had both feet safely on the ground. Alicia sighed. Complicated times were ahead of them, she could see that coming.

  ‘Oh um... Doctor Carter? Or was it your friend from school, what’s her name, Kayleigh?’ Margaret kissed Jenny and then Alicia. ‘You look pale, Alicia, is Bob alright?’ she asked urgently.

  ‘He’s fine,’ said Alicia, trying to sound positive and energetic. ‘There’s nothing to worry about. We’ll visit him later. Here, give me your case.’

  Jenny was still standing there, her hands clasped in front of her, waiting expectantly for Margaret to guess again. Margaret laughed. ‘I give up,’ she said. ‘Tell me who it was.’

  ‘Daddy!’ cried Jenny, and Alicia met Margaret’s astonished eyes.

  ‘Tell you later,’ she mouthed as they started along the lane.

  ‘I was worried at first because I didn’t want to go to Singapore just like that,’ said Jenny, skipping along beside Margaret, her great-aunt’s hand firmly clasped in one of her own. ‘But Daddy promised he’d organise a proper visit for me and Mummy very soon, and we’re going to go up a huge skyscraper, and there’s a great big zoo as well, Daddy says. He could only stay for a little while but it was a lovely visit.’

  They reached the garden gate and Jenny released Conker from his lead. The two of them ran round the back, and Alicia unlocked the front door.

  ‘Surprise, huh?’ she said. ‘And Paul hasn’t changed a bit, still the same old sweet-talking, superficial... well, you get the idea.’

  Margaret hugged her, and Alicia took a shaky breath. ‘You poor thing,’ said Margaret. ‘What on earth brought this on? I didn’t know Paul was anywhere near here.’

  ‘You and me both,’ said Alicia, depositing the suitcase at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Let’s be devils and have a sherry before I heat the soup. I feel I deserve it today. Paul phoned at lunchtime and calmly informed me he would come by at four o’clock, and then he rang off before I could say a word. I was so mad with him. And you know, I really do think he’s just doing this to... to get up my nose.’

  Margaret fetched two sherry glasses from the cupboard and sat down at the kitchen table. ‘He was always good at that,’ s
he agreed. ‘Go on, love.’

  Alicia poured two generous glasses of sherry and tore a piece of kitchen paper from the roll to wipe her eyes. ‘Cheers and good health. Apparently Paul’s here for ten days on business. He’s remarried and his wife’s pregnant. He says he wants proper access to Jenny, if not custody, and oh, Margaret, I don’t know if he does want that or if he’s just saying it to annoy me. Jen doesn’t know about the custody bit and she’s over the moon, he was nice as pie to her this afternoon, gave her two hundred pounds, would you believe. If he’s genuine about this it’ll mean a big upset in Jenny’s life, trips to Singapore and so on. And if he’s winding me up then she’s going to get hurt.’

  How petty it all sounded when she said it like that. But Margaret obviously understood, she reached over and squeezed Alicia’s hand.

  ‘Well, lovey, all you can do is be there for Jenny whatever happens,’ she said. ‘Maybe Paul does want to make it up to her after neglecting her all this time. And if he’s paying for a trip to Singapore for you both, then you should go. A holiday will do you good.’

  Alicia lifted her glass and sipped. ‘Oh, I know. It’ll probably work out at one visit, then when his baby’s born he’ll forget all about Jen again. Anyway, tell me about David and Sheila.’

  Margaret smiled. ‘Baby talk all the way. They’ve got a DVD of the last scan, it’s amazing. You can actually count the toes on it.’

  Alicia drained her glass and reached for the bottle. It was definitely a two-sherry day. Jenny and Conker were running round the garden, and whoops and barks filled the air. Alicia looked at Margaret and suddenly they both laughed. It was difficult to stay depressed with Jen around.

  ‘She’s a real outdoor girl, isn’t she?’ said Margaret.

  ‘Yes. I’m a bit worried about that,’ said Alicia, getting up to put the soup on. All this sherry was going to her head, she needed food. ‘You know how she’s been playing princesses in the woods? Well, last time she came back and said she’d been playing with a man who called himself Oberon and gave her chocolate biscuits. She mentioned him before once, but I thought it was a game. Now she says it’s a secret, won’t tell me who it was. But she said that I know him.’

  Margaret looked at Alicia and smiled. ‘She said something about it to me once too. I thought it was just a pretend friend. She must be lonely here. You had a fantasy friend when you were little, don’t you remember? Children often do.’

  Alicia shook her head. As a school nurse, she knew that eight was well past the usual age for fantasy friends. ‘I know, but I don’t think this is imaginary,’ she said. ‘She spoke about a secret once, too, but then we got distracted before I could go into it with her. And the biscuit wrapper today certainly wasn’t pretend. It must be John Watson, I can’t for the life of me think who else I know here that would play fairy kings in the woods with Jenny.’

  Margaret leaned forward and patted her arm. ‘You worry too much, Alicia, you’ll give yourself an ulcer before you’re forty if you go on like this. You could always go and ask him, but think logically, lovey. I mean this is Lower Banford after all, everyone knows everyone! Either it’s John, and then there’s nothing to worry about, or it’s a pretend friend, and that’s not anything to worry about either, is it?’

  Alicia stared for a moment and then grinned to herself. How true, and bless Margaret for pointing it out so clearly. ‘I suppose not. Thanks, Margaret.’

  She was still washing up after dinner when the doorbell rang. Eva next door had offered to take Margaret to St Joe’s and Jenny had gone with them, more for the novelty of squeezing into the back of Eva’s Smart car than any desire to visit her grandfather, but it meant that Alicia had a whole hour to herself. And now someone was interrupting her peace. She stomped to the front door.

  ‘Sonja!’

  ‘Hello!’ said Sonja, pulling Alicia into an expensively perfumed embrace. ‘Honey, you look like you need a long holiday and from what Frank says you’re not going to get one anytime soon. This is chilled. Got a couple of glasses?’

  She waved two bottles of Féchy. Alicia led her inside. Sonja was still small and plump, but she looked... prosperous, that was it. And happy. And concerned, and oh it was so good to see her, how on earth had they managed to lose touch for so long?

  ‘I thought you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow?’

  ‘Change of plan. John’s Mum’s been given a date for a hip replacement in two weeks, so we’re going straight on up tomorrow to have a bit more time with her before the op. We’ll be back in August a few days earlier than planned. Alicia, tell me what’s going on here. Frank wouldn’t say anything and I can see it’s something big.’

  Alicia poured two glasses of wine and put the remainder in the fridge. It was difficult to know where to start. The child’s voice in her head? The flashbacks? She began to speak, and Sonja sat listening, the expression on her face changing from gravity to indignation and then anger.

  ‘Lici, I had no idea. We all just thought your parents were really old-fashioned and strict, and we knew they were into their religion. I don’t think you ever told me about any of these punishments. I’ve no recollection of giving you a Barbie, even.’

  Alicia sighed. ‘I sort of thought you wouldn’t remember much, you were too young,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry, maybe Cathal will. I meant to go online in Merton this afternoon and see if I could run him down, but Paul put a stop to that.’

  ‘Why don’t I do it for you? John’s Mum’s your original silver surfer, her broadband is to die for, and it would give me something to do while the kids are out with Granny.’

  Alicia agreed thankfully. Maybe it was true that a problem shared was a problem halved. She certainly felt a lot more positive about her situation here.

  ‘What did you think of Frank?’ she said, remembering that Sonja had been worried about him.

  ‘Well in one way he’s a lot better because he has different stuff to think about here, with the house needing to be done up and his new patients and so on. On the other hand I can tell he’s really tense, there’s something he’s not telling me. Sometimes when you look at him you can see he’s thinking about it. His nerves are still shot to pieces.’

  ‘I thought the very first time I saw him here that he was nervous,’ said Alicia. ‘But you know, everyone here likes him, he’s well-respected and he’s fitted right into the community. Maybe he’s still grieving?’

  ‘I don’t think so. It’s been over six years, and he never mentions Nell now. It was so terrible, Alicia, what happened. He found her in the garden, she must have gone out to do something and apparently it was one of those sudden adult death things, like footballers have sometimes. There was a big bash on her head where she’d fallen, and Frank was just kneeling there with her in his arms when a neighbour found them. Nell was dead and Frank was shaking like a leaf and I was in bloody Vancouver. It took me the best part of three days to get back to England and you can’t imagine the state he was in.’

  Alicia was silent. Life was cruel, no doubt about it. There were no guarantees of tomorrow for any one of them.

  Sonja went to get the wine bottle. ‘I was glad when he said he was selling their house, but I still don’t know if coming back here was a good idea,’ she said. ‘But it’s his life. I just wish he would share a bit more of what’s going on in it.’

  ‘I’ll keep an eye on him for you while I’m here,’ said Alicia.

  They sat there sipping too much Féchy and talking about life after Lower Banford; Alicia felt her world go fuzzy at the edges. Margaret and Jenny came back, and Margaret made them garlic bread to mop up the wine. It was nearly midnight when Alicia took Conker and walked Sonja round the village to Frank’s home.

  ‘See you in two weeks or so,’ she said, giggling as her friend wobbled towards the front door on her elegant Parisian heels.

  The village street was deserted as she walked back. Only the one dim streetlight lit the lane, and the woods were pitch black. But tomorrow the sun would
shine again, and maybe Sonja would soon find Cathal. But what if Cathal didn’t remember anything either?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wednesday, 19th July

  The Stranger

  It was time to start the serious organisation. He stood in his bedroom, looking down at the items set out there, ready for Saturday. It was difficult not to gloat, that throw was absolutely perfect. And the cord would make sure his little angel stayed put, though of course the medication he had ready would help with that too. The cord was just a precaution. He would need a white coat, to make him less conspicuous at St. Joe’s, but that wouldn’t be a problem. Now he should plan exactly what to do with big Helen, when the news of her daughter’s... disappearance came to her.

  And really, there wasn’t much to plan. A shoulder to cry on was all she’d need. He would arrange that the two of them had some quality time before the event, just to ensure that his would be the shoulder she’d turn to first.

  So an invitation was needed. He would ask her for a coffee or dinner or even a walk next time they met... a walk in the woods. How ironic that would be.

  He smiled. He would ask and she would say yes. And it was all going to be quite, quite wonderful. Big Helen had no idea what was about to happen to her.

  Alicia

  ‘Okay, Louise, I’ll hear from you next week, then.’ Alicia, leaning against the telephone table in the hallway, frowned as Jenny and Conker crashed through the front door and headed for the kitchen.

  She replaced the receiver and strode after them, fully intending to read the riot act to her daughter about banging around the place while other people were making important phone calls whilst still suffering the effects of drinking way too much wine the night before. But only Margaret was there, placidly washing lettuce. Alicia could see Jenny and Conker racing round the summerhouse outside. She grinned in spite of her headache and sat down.

  ‘If I dashed about like that I’d be half dead by ten in the morning.’

 

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