Of course, it hadn’t helped being kept back a year in elementary, because now all his friends were in the class above him, and he’d told her that none of them wanted to be seen around with him, because he was one year lower. And then, of course, the fact that he had put on quite a bit of weight over the past six months didn’t help matters. Not that he was hugely fat, and since he was tall for his age, he didn’t look out of proportion. But he certainly was unfit-looking, and it had been enough for him to be excluded from any of the school teams. However, she couldn’t really understand why this had happened in the first place. He didn’t eat that much at home, and the only explanation that she could come up with was that he might well be heading off to the candy shop in Leesport at lunch-break, much against his mother’s every wish.
But then again, she never felt like questioning him about it. She walked over to him and bent down and patted him on the shoulder. “Want a swim?”
“I’m all right,” he said, not taking his eyes off the television.
“Suit yourself,” she said, raising her eyebrows in defeat. She turned and was about to walk away when she heard above the noise of the television the sound of Dodie barking in the garden. Benji heard it too, and he raised his head and looked out of the French doors, craning his neck to see where the noise was coming from. “What was that?”
“That’s Dodie. She’s a poodle. She belongs to David, the new gardener. He’s from Scotland.”
Benji got to his feet and slumped over to the French doors and looked out to where David was working near the swimming pool. Jasmine followed, and standing quietly behind him, they both watched Dodie dancing around on the lawn with an old tennis ball, desperately trying to get David to throw for her. He turned from his work in the flower-bed and gave it a kick across the lawn. Dodie headed after it as fast as her legs would move and, having retrieved it, she made her way laboriously back to him, the ball slipping out of the side of her mouth every so often. Then, dropping it at his feet, she would let out another yelp, and David, in his own time, would start the process over again.
Benji leaned against the French door, his hands thrust into the pockets of his long baggy shorts, rocking himself back and forth against the doorpost as he watched this happen three or four times. “He’s not wearing a skirt,” he said glumly.
“What d’ya mean, a skirt?” Jasmine asked, perplexed by his statement.
“Scotsmen are supposed to wear skirts, Jasmine,” he replied with a sigh of impatience at her ignorance.
“Now, for once you’re wrong, Benji, ’cos I know they’re called kilts.”
“Skirts, kilts, what’s the difference? All seems pretty girly to me. And he’s got a girly dog.”
Jasmine smiled and shook her head in despair at his mood. She turned away from the window.
“What do you want for supper?”
“Don’t care much.”
“Okay, I’ll give you fried flies on toast, then.”
“Jasmine?”
“Yuh?”
“Do you think what’s-his-name knows anything about bikes?”
Jasmine turned back to look at him. He was still leaning against the doorpost, gazing out into the garden. “David? I dunno, Benji. Why?”
“Do you think he could put the pedal back on my bike?”
Jasmine smiled to herself. “I reckon he probably could. That is, if you ask him politely and start to remember his name properly.”
Benji remained where he was, so Jasmine, thinking that a little active encouragement was in order, walked back towards him, pulling the pedal out of the flowerpot as she passed the table.
“Tell you what. If you put on your swimming trunks, then go get your bike and ask him to put the pedal back on, you can have a swim while he’s doing it, okay? But you’d better hurry, ’cos I think he’ll be headin’ home pretty soon.”
“Okay!” With a sudden air of excitement, he grabbed the pedal from her grasp and ran through the kitchen into the house. Jasmine watched him go, then, tilting her head to the side at this unexpected hint of hopefulness, she went to make a start on his meal.
It was Dodie who first alerted David to the boy’s approach, suddenly rushing off across the lawn, yapping loudly. David turned from his work in the flower-bed to see what the commotion was about, and recognized the young boy he had seen earlier in the day getting into the BMW. He was dressed only in a pair of surf shorts, and was slowly pushing a bicycle across the lawn towards him. As Dodie reached him, he turned his bare legs in towards the bicycle in an attempt to protect them from her claws as she jumped up to greet him.
“Dodie!” David called out sharply. “Come here!”
For once, the little dog did as she was told, racing back to stand guard over her tennis ball, while the boy, eyeing her every inch of the way, continued warily towards him. David put down the hoe and stepped out of the flower-bed, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans. The boy stopped in front of him.
“Hi! How are you? I’m David.” He walked forward and put his hand out to the boy, who tried desperately to free his own by juggling with the pedal that he was carrying, and in the process letting go of the bike. David lurched forward and grabbed hold of the handlebars before it hit the ground and laid it down carefully. The boy looked at him and smiled.
“So whom have I the pleasure of meeting?”
“Benji.”
“Hi, Benji.” He stuck out his hand again, and Benji stepped forward and shook it. “So what’s been happening to your bike?”
“The pedal came off.”
“Right—and you’re about to fix it, are you?”
Benji looked at him and began scratching embarrassedly at his forehead. “Well, I was wondering—well, me and Jasmine were wondering if you could, well, maybe have a look at it, ’cos I’ve tried to fix it, but it just keeps coming off.” He squatted down beside his bike and made a half-hearted attempt at putting the pedal back on.
“Right, well, if both you and Jasmine want me to do it, then I’d better get on with it, hadn’t I? I’ll need to go back to the shed for a spanner, though. Okay?”
Benji looked up at him, squinting into the sun. “A what?”
David bent down and took the pedal from Benji’s grasp. “You’ll see. I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, starting to walk back across the lawn. “Maybe you could keep Dodie occupied by throwing the ball for her.”
When he had first entered the shed that morning, David had realized immediately that, even though the last gardener may have been lacking in horticultural skills, he certainly knew how to organize his workshop. Everything had its place, the garden implements hanging neatly from wooden dowelling-pegs stuck into the side beam of the shed, while the hand-tools were mounted in metal clips above the work-bench, the outline of each being traced on the mounting board, both for easy replacement and for recognition of what was missing. He chucked the pedal onto the bench and reached over and took down a 13-millimeter wrench, which, more by luck than better judgement, fitted the nut perfectly. He picked up the pedal and walked back out of the shed, and as he was sliding the bolt across on the door, he heard a distant splash coming from the swimming pool. He laughed to himself. Typical boy. Got bored with the game.
It took him just under a minute to get back to where the bicycle had been left. There was no sign of Dodie, either. He bent down to start fixing the pedal when he heard Dodie let out a yelp from beside the pool. He stood up and walked to where he could glance in through the gate to see why she was barking. Something was strange. There was not a ripple on the pool, and yet he was sure he had heard a splash. Dodie barked again. He turned and moved quickly through the gate to see what was happening. Dodie was sitting, a bemused expression on her face as she stared at its smooth, ripple-free surface. Benji was nowhere to be seen. He turned to walk away, and as he did so, his eyes happened to follow the line of Dodie’s vision, and a sudden surge of adrenaline and alarm coursed through his body as he made out the dark outline of a figure, for
eshortened by the refraction of the water, lying on the bottom of the pool at the deep end.
“OH, NO!” he yelled out, running around the edge of the pool, pulling off his deck shoes as he went. “OH, MY GOD, PLEASE NO! JASMINE!”
He dived in and swam down to the bottom, reaching out and grabbing the inert figure of the boy under the armpit. He pulled hard, expecting to have to drag the dead weight of the body upwards, when suddenly the boy seemed to come to life, kicking out with his feet, and they shot to the surface of the pool at the same time. Benji pushed the hair off his eyes and looked at him, spluttering out water.
“What’s the matter?” he asked innocently.
David swam over to the side of the pool and grabbed hold of the edge as he caught his breath. He turned round to face the boy, who was now swimming sedately up the pool.
“What the hell do you think you were doing?” David shouted at him.
Benji climbed up the steps at the shallow end and received a rapturous welcome from Dodie. He turned to face David, a look of bewilderment on his face. “What d’ya mean?”
David swung himself out of the pool and turned round to sit on the edge, looking at Benji and shaking his head in disbelief. “What do you think you were doing? Christ, I mean, I thought you were drowned! I’ve never known anyone to do such a stupid, idiotic thing in my life!”
“I was holding my breath,” Benji said, looking at him, his bottom lip beginning to quiver. “I can do it for a minute and a half.”
“Well, it’s a bloody stupid thing to do, and I don’t give a damn what you do when other people are around, but you sure as hell don’t do it with me. Okay?”
At that point, Jasmine came running in through the gate. “What on earth is going on?” she said breathlessly, looking at David and Benji in turn.
Benji stomped past her, a furious and mortified expression on his face. “He’s stupid. He’s just a—” He turned and looked at David, anger and tears burning at his eyes. “STUPID GARDENER!”
He ran out of the gate and headed for the house, and in the silence that followed, David could hear him sobbing his way loudly across the lawn. Jasmine threw her arms in the air and looked across at David. “Could you please tell me what’s going on?”
David shook his head and kicked his feet in the water. “I’d just been getting a tool for his bike from the shed, and came back and found him lying in the deep end of the pool. I thought he was bloody drowned!”
Jasmine closed her eyes and slapped the top of her head with her hand. “Oh, David!” she said quietly, moving around the pool towards him, “I’m so sorry! That’s Benji’s ridiculous game. He’s not supposed to do it. He’s been warned so many times by his mother and me. Oh, good Lord above, I am so sorry.”
David shook his head and waved his arm. “No, it’s my fault. I’ve obviously over-reacted. It’s just that, well, I was so bloody scared.”
Jasmine crouched down beside him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Not surprisin’.”
They remained in that position without speaking for more than a minute before David swung round and jumped to his feet. “I’m sorry, Jasmine. I didn’t mean to shout at him like that.”
“You’ve no need to be sorry, David. I just think it’s pretty wunnerful that you reacted that way. I mean, you could have been so right, in which case you might have saved his life.”
David glanced at her. “Maybe I should apologize to him?”
“No,” Jasmine replied, shaking her head slowly, “I’ll have a talk with him. Anyway, I think we should let the whole incident heat up in his brain. It’ll be a real good lesson to him.” She took hold of his arm. “Come on, I’ll get you some dry clothes, and then I think you should be gettin’ yourself home.” She smiled up at him and gave a wink. “I reckon you’ve done enough for a day.”
* * *
Clive and Dotti first stared unbelievingly at him when he walked into Helping Hands, before both burst out into fits of laughter. David raised his eyes heavenwards, not particularly wanting to share in their joke. However, he did realize that he must cut quite a comic figure, standing there with his little dog on its lead and dressed in a garish Hawaiian short-sleeved shirt and a pair of chinos whose cuffs ended three inches above his ankles.
“Yeah, well, I’ve already had some pretty strange looks in Hunter’s SuperSaver.”
Clive came round the side of his desk theatrically wiping non-existent tears of mirth from his eyes, and stood looking David up and down. “Oh, David, this is wonderful! So—Mrs. Newman insists that you wear livery, does she?” He burst out into fits of laughter again, and David smiled and shook his head at the ribbing.
“Oh, no, no, I must stop!” Clive continued. “It’s just too cruel. Oh dear, oh dear!” He patted himself on the chest to regain self-control, then, bending forward and placing both hands on his knees, he looked down at Dodie. “And who may I ask is this?”
“Er, her name’s Dodie,” David replied guardedly, expecting Clive to make yet another of his humorous observations. “I’m afraid that I had to bring her in, otherwise she’s quite likely to eat the interior of the car.”
“Oh, aren’t you just a bootiful creature?” Clive crooned as Dodie jumped towards him and started to lick at his hands. He straightened up fast as Dodie’s powerful breath reached his nostrils. “Oh, my word! She does have a little problem, doesn’t she?”
“That’s putting it mildly.” He reined in Dodie as Clive moved close up to him.
“Garlic pills,” he whispered in his ear.
“What?”
“Garlic pills. Wonderful for canine halitosis!”
“Ah, right! Thanks for the tip. I’ll get some for her.”
“So, how’d it go today? And whose clothes are those?”
David recounted his day’s experiences, getting more than a horrified reaction from Clive when he eventually explained how he had come to be wearing such bizarre clothes.
“Jasmine did point out that Mr. Newman was a little shorter than me, but it was either this or nothing. Anyway, that reminds me.” He stood up, digging his hand into his pocket and bringing out the sodden piece of letter-head which he had picked up that morning from Carrie’s desk. He opened it up carefully and handed it to Clive. “I managed to salvage this from my jeans. It’s really why I dropped in. It’s my new address.”
“Oh, wonderful, so you found somewhere?”
“Yeah. It came with dog and car attached.”
“Shore Road!” Clive said, reading the piece of paper. “That’s pretty fancy, isn’t it?”
“Not really. I’m in one of the little saltboxes.”
“Oh, that’s perfect for you! Now”—he started to pat at his pockets—“what did I do with that envelope?”
“It’s here, Clive,” Dotti said, turning from her computer screen, the envelope in her hand. “You gave it to me for safekeeping.”
Clive tutted and raised his eyebrows in disgust at himself. “I’ll be forgetting my own head next.” He walked over to Dotti’s desk and took the envelope, handing over David’s address at the same time. “Be a gem, Dotti, and stick this on the machine.”
He approached David and handed him the envelope. “I thought you should have some spending money, so I’ve made up a week’s wages in advance for you.”
David shook his head and made to hand the envelope back. “Clive, you don’t—”
Clive stood back and held up both hands in refusal. “No, I insist. Really.” He laughed. “If it makes it any easier for you to accept, I should maybe tell you that I do this for all my employees—just a little ruse I have for buying loyalty! And in future, all you need to do is drop in at the end of every week, and we’ll settle up then. Is that okay?”
David slipped the envelope into his back pocket. “Yeah, perfect—and thanks again.”
“Not at all,” Clive replied, putting an arm on his shoulder and walking him to the door. “And for goodness’ sakes, don’t go saving kids from swimming pools e
very day. I don’t want to have to start paying you danger money as well!”
* * *
Heavily laden down with the two carrier-bags filled with groceries, David fumbled the key into the lock of the saltbox and pushed open the door with his shoulder and, giving Dodie a whistle to get her inside, he kicked it shut behind him. Putting the bags down on the draining-board, he rooted around in one for a can of beer and made his way towards the veranda, taking a healthy swig as he went. He had just undone the bolts on the door when he noticed that a fax was sitting on the machine. He walked over to the desk, and instantly recognizing his mother’s writing, he tore off the sheet and walked out into the veranda, plumping himself down in one of the deck-chairs.
My darling David,
Dad and I were delighted to get your fax and to hear that you are feeling so much better. I always had the notion that getting away completely from Inchelvie would do you the best good of all. Accordingly, we discussed your plan this morning over breakfast, and we are both of the opinion that it is an excellent idea for that period of time, and I am sure that it will enable you to eventually return to Scotland afresh and renewed.
What may come as a bit of a blow to you (yet in a way a mixed blessing to ourselves), is that Duncan Caple has felt it necessary to appoint a temporary marketing director in your place. Of course, it is not the ideal solution, but now that we know of your plans, it does allow you a breathing space, and also takes much of the pressure off your father. The new man starts today and Duncan has insisted that Dad should begin to take things much easier from now on, so let’s hope!
I have no doubt that you will have already spoken to Sophie or even all the children about this, and of course, we are quite happy for them to come back here for their leave-out. By the way, when I visited them the day you left, Sophie said that she knew that you wouldn’t be back straight away. She’s turning out to be a very intuitive young girl, that one! Knows her father better than his mother does!
An Ocean Apart Page 23