The Paradise Trees

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The Paradise Trees Page 15

by Linda Huber


  Alicia smiled at him warmly. Surely Sonja was worrying about nothing, Frank was talking about his past life. He was just a very private kind of person, that was all. Not everyone wanted to air their feelings to the whole world.

  ‘I know. I think it’s the whole situation here that’s turning me into an old mother hen. At least my father is sorted now but I’ll feel better when my own life settles down. I had another flashback recently so I asked Margaret if he had ever hit me. She thought no, just what counted as normal smacking, but she doesn’t really know. I think I should try therapy of some kind when we’re back home.’

  ‘I think that’s a really good plan, it’ll help give you some perspective,’ he said warmly. ‘Um, Alicia, I was wondering if you’d like to go out for something to eat sometime soon? I’m on call tomorrow night but maybe Friday? We could have a proper chat then.’

  Alicia sighed. A proper chat about child abuse over dinner didn’t sound very relaxing, but he undoubtedly meant well and of course she would love to go for food or ice cream or whatever with Frank at some point. Just maybe not on Friday.

  ‘Thanks, Frank, and I would like to sometime, but can I take a rain check for the moment? Jenny’ll be coming home on Friday evening, and I don’t want to plan beyond that until I see how her visit went. Maybe next week sometime?’

  ‘No problem,’ he said, though his voice was strained. To her relief he sounded more relaxed when he continued. ‘We’re friends, we can do things like that anytime. I’ll see you at St. Joe’s tomorrow, the speech therapist asked me to the meeting too. Derek’s bringing angel cake so don’t have too much lunch. Oh, and the reason I came by... ’ He slid the piece of paper along the coffee table. ‘Sonja’s email address and mobile number, she forgot to leave it yesterday.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Alicia folded the paper and put it into her handbag. She would text Sonja later.

  He left soon after, and Alicia waved him off, grinning to herself. Her social life here was definitely better than in Bedford. When was the last time she’d been asked out to dinner twice on the same day? At least she’d be well-occupied while Jen was away. She shivered. If only it was Friday night and her daughter was safely home for the weekend.

  The Stranger

  He sat by the open window, watching as the moon shone silver across the dark stripe where sky and wooded hillside met. The delicate perfume of night-scented stock wafted up from the garden, reminding him again of his Helen. Her soft, sweet-smelling skin, her beautiful dark hair. Her eyes, and her mouth. Ripe, full, sensual. Perfect.

  How beautiful she had been. But there had been danger, too. The closer he came to sending the first of his new Helens to Paradise the more he remembered the dark side of his own Helen. Old memories prickled in his mind, shocking, wicked memories, and he hated it because he had blanked all that out, he only wanted to remember how wonderful everything had been. Those bad memories always brought him pain, and with the pain came the anger. Rage, white rage. It had happened with Helen too. She had turned into the devil before his eyes, but this time it had been fear as much as anger that had made him act. He hadn’t really wanted her to be gone.

  He could barely remember the days after her death. His sister had organised the funeral for him, and the whole occasion had washed right over his head. There had been candles in the church, he knew that, he had smelled their thick warm smell and immediately been transported back to Mummy’s funeral. That had been a much bigger affair. Dad had been gutted, he’d sobbed through the entire ceremony. The music was wonderful, Beethoven and Bach, and ‘All things Bright and Beautiful’.

  He’d been dutifully solemn, but the relief that no-one realised what he had done to Mummy was making his soul more light-hearted than it had been for years, he almost felt jubilant. Inside he was laughing at them all, how stupid they were. Of course it was a terrible, tragic thing that Mummy was gone, but his bad feelings about that were locked away now and he was almost able to enjoy the service. The anger had been gone by then, and the love he’d always had for Mummy was different now. Just a pleasant memory.

  But now the anger was back and this time it was directed at little Helen, his bad little angel who was going away tomorrow. He wanted to love her but the rage was there too, and he simply couldn’t help it. The way she had looked at him, with his own Helen’s lovely face, with Helen’s eyes, and then told him so calmly that she was going away with another man. Worse than that, she was pleased to be going away. It had been a struggle, keeping a pleasant expression on his face.

  But he would get her, his bad little angel Helen. It would be alright in the end. She would return home and be pleased to see him, her King, and this time on Saturday evening, she would be right here with him. Then deep in the night when the coast was clear, off to the woods they would go and away she would fly to Paradise.

  The moon disappeared behind a bank of cloud, and he rose from his chair to shut the window.

  Just two more days to go.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Thursday, 20th July

  Alicia

  ‘This way, please.’

  The waitress led the way across the restaurant, and Alicia looked around in pleasure. The decor was exotic, with colourful wooden Wayang Golek puppets hanging along the walls, interspersed with smaller Buddhas on shelves below them. The sound of water bubbling from a fountain just inside the door was competing with the jangly background music, and the waitress was clad in a pink and purple sarong and beaded sandals. It almost felt as though they were in a beach restaurant on a tropical holiday island.

  The evening had begun with her twisting right and left in front of the too-small mirror in her bedroom, examining her reflection with some satisfaction. The black dress she’d found in a summer sale in Merton was perfect, and Margaret’s jade silk shawl completed the look. Alicia settled it round her shoulders. It made the whole outfit more elegant, more subtle, too. Yes, she was attracted to Doug but she didn’t want to look as if she was throwing herself at him.

  It would be great to have a decent conversation with Doug at last. Away from St. Joe’s and her family, they would have both time and peace to put the world right. He was such an intelligent man, it would be interesting to get his slant on things. Come to think of it, this was only the second date she’d gone on from this house. The first had been the fated cinema outing the night her father had almost scalped her.

  Tyres scrunching on gravel had announced Doug’s arrival, and Alicia ran downstairs. Her date was standing with one hand raised to ring the bell, and the expression on his face had her heart racing before they even spoke. She had almost forgotten how it felt going on a date like this, but she was remembering now... it was lovely, feeling that she was one of a pair again.

  ‘You look gorgeous,’ he said, taking her arm and leading her to the car.

  ‘You’re looking pretty smart yourself,’ Alicia told him, sitting down carefully when he opened the car door for her. He was, too, she thought. His jacket and trousers were dark grey and unexpectedly old-fashioned, but they seemed to suit him, as did the plain white shirt and grey tie. Tonight was going to do her the world of good. Time for herself at long last.

  ‘It was a pity the speech therapist couldn’t suggest anything more for your father,’ said Doug as they drove past St. Joe’s.

  How dedicated he was. But talk about business before pleasure, she didn’t want to think about her father at all tonight. Of course, for all Doug knew she was a loving, devoted daughter.

  ‘Well, I suppose there wasn’t much chance of improvement after all this time,’ she said. ‘I was sorry she couldn’t tell us how much he understands, though. But never mind, we tried.’

  ‘We did,’ said Doug. ‘Look, here’s the restaurant.’

  The waitress seated them in a corner by the window. Oriental screens separated the tables, giving the illusion of privacy, and Alicia smiled at Doug as they opened their menus.

  ‘This is fantastic. If the food’s as good as the ambien
ce it’ll be wonderful,’ she said, looking down the list of starters. ‘What do you recommend?’

  ‘Ah,’ said Doug. ‘Actually, I’ve never eaten here. In fact I’ve never eaten Indonesian food at all, but Derek Thorpe said once this was a brilliant place. He was here with someone last Christmas and I think they had one of the meals for two. I’ll let you decide!’

  Alicia examined the menu. It was fun, trying out a new place like this, and how good it felt to have an appreciative, attractive man sitting opposite her. She ordered a meal for two with a variety of starters and main dishes, and the choice of pineapple fritters or curry ice cream for dessert. Doug looked at her, his expression comical.

  ‘Sushi? Curry ice cream? Maybe we should have just gone for a steak,’ he whispered.

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Alicia. ‘Sushi’s really nice and the ice cream will be fun, you’ll see.’ The wine waiter came and she asked for a glass of Chardonnay and a bottle of mineral water. Doug smiled agreement.

  The starters arrived, and Alicia insisted that Doug try everything. He obviously wasn’t used to exotic food, which both surprised and amused her. It was appealing, the way he was looking to her for guidance. Up until now she had been the one on the receiving end of his help and advice, and it was good to know that their positions could be reversed in a different situation. It was interesting too that Doug-in-a-restaurant was quite different to what she’d imagined, not confident and knowledgeable at all, more hesitant, almost, and unsure.

  ‘I’m more of a steak and chips bloke,’ he said apologetically, when she asked. ‘But Derek raved so much about this place I thought it would be fun to try it.’

  ‘And it is, and Derek was right, the food’s amazing,’ said Alicia. ‘Don’t worry. I think most men are steak and chips blokes. It’s probably your caveman instincts.’

  He smiled. ‘Your father was enjoying fish and chips when I left him,’ he said, lifting a baby spring roll and gazing at her sympathetically. ‘Sorry, you must miss having him at home.’

  Alicia looked at him soberly. It wasn’t exactly dinner table conversation, but this might be as good a time as any for the big confession.

  ‘We didn’t get on at all well, when I was young,’ she said, blinking back sudden tears. Heavens, she mustn’t cry here, in the middle of her sushi. ‘I left home the minute I was sixteen. I have very mixed memories of my time here.’

  ‘Then make sure you hang on to the good ones,’ said Doug. ‘Lose the bad ones, you’re better off without them. I see that every day, happy memories make happy old people.’

  Alicia sat struggling to control her emotions. She should never have started this. Right here was neither the time nor the place to talk about what her father had or hadn’t done to her. She sipped her wine and managed to smile.

  ‘Families, eh? Do you have any relatives nearby?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. My parents both died years ago and my sister lives abroad now. And I wasn’t married long enough to have kids. Lena was gone just a few months after we married.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, it must have been dreadful for you,’ said Alicia, regretting her tactless question. Heavens, what kind of a start was this to a romantic evening? Dead spouses were almost as much of a passion-killer as potential child abuse.

  ‘Don’t worry. It was a long time ago, and I’m lucky to have a job that’s so fulfilling. It helped me through the bad times.’ Doug sipped his wine and Alicia was relieved to see that he genuinely wasn’t distressed. Of course he’d be used to living with his wife’s death now, but how on earth did he cope so well? Even now, thinking about her relationship with Paul could reduce her to tears of frustration and anger, and grief that it had all gone so wrong.

  ‘Tell me about Jenny,’ said Doug as the waiter removed their plates. He reached across the table and squeezed Alicia’s hand.

  She squeezed back, not caring if he saw how attracted she was. How tactful of him. The one ‘family’ subject that didn’t have unfortunate undertones.

  ‘Jenny? She’s beautiful, brilliant, wonderful, amazing... need I go on? She brings so much joy to my life, and she’s such fun, too. But I’ll admit I may be slightly biased.’

  But of course having a child alone wasn’t everything she’d planned for. A loving, caring, sharing relationship, plus Jenny, that was the dream that had proved impossible. Until now, perhaps.

  Doug laughed. ‘She sounds just like her mother. We’re all enjoying seeing her around at St. Joe’s,’ he said, raising his glass to her. Swallowing the sudden lump in her throat, Alicia clinked glasses and sat back as the waiters appeared with the main courses.

  What was Jen doing now, far away in York with Paul? He had arrived at ten to two, and informed Alicia curtly that he was taking Jenny to the Viking museum that afternoon, and they would go out for a pizza in the evening and on to the cinema. Was Jen enjoying her favourite ham and mushroom pizza with extra cheese? Or were she and Paul in the cinema already? They probably were, and oh, was it a suitable film?

  Doug was helping himself to fried rice with obvious enthusiasm. ‘Children give you such a lot, don’t they?’ he said, and Alicia smiled in agreement. There wasn’t much she could reply to this, so she concentrated on her food for a moment. It was excellent. Fortunately, Doug didn’t seem to be short of things to say.

  ‘Children must enrich your life so much,’ he said, still busy with his rice. ‘And you know, you’ll have enriched Bob’s life, too, Alicia. Even if you didn’t get on well. I guess it’s a sort of two way process between parent and child, a generation kind of thing. We all give and we all get, and you can keep those feelings forever. Working with older people, I get to see this more often than you’d think.’ He reached out for more rice.

  Alicia stared at him, chewing slowly. Heavens, that was a bit of a heavy load of well-meant nothings... on a supposedly romantic date, too. Was he nervous? Or...

  A long-forgotten memory pushed its way to the front of her mind and she blinked in horror. Boyfriends. Desire. Sex. She’d been twenty, going out with Martin. He was studying philosophy and art, which was such a cool thing to be doing and he was an absolute doll, too. They couldn’t get enough of each other and for weeks they had spent every free minute in bed. It was ages before she realised that they had absolutely nothing to talk about, no common interests, no shared opinions. And sex alone wasn’t enough in the long run, even when you were twenty. Martin the person was a crashing bore, and he had probably thought the same about her, too, if he’d thought at all beyond the next time they slept together.

  And now here was Doug, and her body was responding to him in exactly the same way it had to Martin, but Doug was... boring, too. The realisation was both unexpected and appalling.

  The spicy food turned tasteless in Alicia’s mouth and she laid her fork down. They had been together tonight for over an hour and it didn’t matter what they started out talking about, they always ended up back at St. Joe’s with the old people. Oh, Doug had asked about Jenny, answered the questions she’d asked, but it really seemed as if his job was the only thing he cared about. It was as if he defined himself by his job. There was no Doug apart from the work Doug. And all at once it just seemed terribly... superficial.

  What would happen when, if, she bared her soul and told him about the flashbacks and her fears about what had happened to her young self? Would they still end up talking about some geriatric experience in Ward Two? Look how he’d responded when she told him she hadn’t got on with her father. He hadn’t even asked why. And what on earth was she supposed to do now?

  Alicia took a deep breath and picked up her fork. Okay, try again. Broaden the conversation, give the bloke a chance.

  ‘This is lovely, isn’t it?’ she said brightly, smiling as well as she could. ‘A perfect night out. Did you go to A Midsummer Night’s Dream? I hear it was great.’

  ‘Yes, I did. We took a busful of patients from Ward Three, and they enjoyed it, though Derek said they’d enjoyed ‘The Importance of
Being Earnest’ last year better. I suppose Shakespeare isn’t for everyone.’

  Alicia felt a sudden desire to laugh, and then pulled herself together. Doug had even dragged St. Joe’s into a conversation about Shakespeare. And now that she was looking out for it, there wasn’t any substance, any depth in the man that struck an echoing chord in her. Except the sexual attraction. For a few moments there she’d felt lonely, sitting opposite Doug in the middle of this busy little restaurant. Alone in a crowd. Or was she expecting too much here? Was this just the usual kind of man-woman Mars-Venus kind of thing?

  To her relief he didn’t seem to notice anything of the turmoil going on in her head. She chatted determinedly all through the remainder of the meal – the curry ice cream was a real talking point – and all the way home in the car. He didn’t suggest going to his home, and Alicia decided against inviting him in for coffee. She would have to think hard about what she should do next. The eagerly-anticipated date had taken an unexpected turn in quite the wrong direction. Doug was good-looking, he was dedicated, he was attracted to her and she to him, but that wasn’t enough.

  ‘Thanks for a lovely evening, Doug,’ she said warmly as the car stopped in the driveway. ‘I won’t ask you in, I know you have to be at St. Joe’s early tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Yes. School night tonight,’ he said, smiling across the car at her in the darkness, but her heart didn’t beat any faster now. ‘I expect I’ll see you tomorrow on the ward, then. Goodnight, Alicia. Sleep well.’

  She stood in the doorway and waved as he drove off, then let herself in and collapsed on the sofa, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Fortunately Margaret had gone to bed and Alicia, Conker and Moritz had the room to themselves. Oh, well, she consoled herself, it was a lovely meal, and you’re not the first woman to think that an attractive, articulate man was automatically interesting too. Doug was... well, what was he?

 

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