by Georgia Rose
“No, no,” I decided. “You go, it’s about time you got back to work and stopped lazing around here. I’ll be fine.” I had to face this sooner rather than later, and while I was still on a high it would be better. He kissed me, but not for long enough, then left, and I finished off the horses before retreating to the cottage. I had to keep reminding myself to relax and not to keep checking around, not to keep glancing up into the trees or jumping at the slightest noise. Getting back to physical work was certainly a help.
It didn’t mean I wasn’t pleased when his truck returned as I was turning the horses out. Following him in I went to shower and prepare a salad for dinner. It was too hot for anything else. When we’d finished eating, Trent suggested going for a walk.
“It feels like it’s going to rain. I’ve heard thunder rumbling around this afternoon.”
“If we get wet, we get wet. At least it will be cooler. I don’t want you starting to prowl around the house again like you have been doing.”
“I don’t prowl.”
“Well pace then, up and down, up and down, checking the doors, the windows, the doors again.”
I knew he was teasing, and he knew he was winding me up. “You’re making me sound neurotic!” He raised his eyebrows at me.
I went to get my shoes on and we set off, Susie happily following but getting left behind when distracted by smells every now and then, scampering along to catch up. I could still hear the thunder and the sky had darkened, but we had gone well beyond the tree house before I felt the first fat drop of rain. I thought we might have been sheltered enough in the trees, but the rain that came was of the torrential type you get in summer when none has fallen for weeks and the land is crying out for moisture. Within a couple of minutes we were soaked. The fresh earthy scent rising from the woodland floor took me back to the tunnel, but not wanting that association I pushed the unwelcome thought away.
“We’d better turn back, find shelter under the tree house. Oh...wait a moment.” And he bent down to retie his shoelace.
Sensing my opportunity, I called back “Race you” as I took off through the trees. I like to think I run like a gazelle; however, I know this is not so. Being slightly flat-footed, I’ve always found running a challenge. My current fitness level had improved things, but not by much, and the only chance I’d ever have of beating Trent would be by cheating. I could already hear him coming after me, and I’d seen him run. To watch him was to experience the joy of effortless and elegant beauty; he could eat up the miles with a graceful stride that seemed as easy to him as breathing. I’d never seen him doubled up in pain, gasping for air the way I did. That was what I was up against.
I ran flat out. I could hear him gaining on me, but as the tree house came into view I thought for one brief moment I might just make it. Then I felt his hands around my waist as he caught me. I squealed, then burst out laughing as he spun me dizzily around. Losing our balance we began to fall, and as Trent crashed to the ground he dragged me down with him, breaking my fall as I landed on top of him. Laughing as I tried to catch my breath, I could hear his deep chuckle as he pulled me up till my face was level with his. His hair was soaked, damp curls clinging to his forehead. Mine was just as wet. I ran my fingers through it, knowing it would be sticking up all over the place.
“You cheated,” he stated, trying to reach my mouth.
“I thought you liked the chase,” I challenged, knowing the truth, feeling the hunger in his kiss and eagerly responding. I thought for a moment I’d started something that might not be that easy to stop, but he suddenly let me go, breathing hard as he looked at me intensely. Then he smiled.
“Marry me?”
His eyes widened along with mine, as if these words had been as much a surprise to him as they were to me, but as my head was yelling “No” it seemed the most natural thing in the world for my heart to say “Yes”.
Chapter 12
At four-thirty the next morning, Trent found me sitting in a chair in the garden, wrapped in a blanket, Susie curled on my lap. He flopped down in the other chair before saying casually, “Wotcha doing?”
“Thought I’d watch the sun come up.”
“Would’ve thought you’d done enough of that recently.” A veiled reference to the previous week’s events.
“I had other things on my mind at the time.” I hesitated. “I think it’s important to occasionally see the dawn, watch it come up, brand new day and everything...” I tailed off. As reasons went, it sounded contrived.
“So it’s not that you can’t sleep, then?”
“No.”
“Or that you’ve got something on your mind?” I didn’t answer, so he continued, “Talk to me, Em...what’s going on?”
To be honest, I didn’t know what was going on in my mind. I was confused. Only weeks before I’d feared losing him, made a ridiculous decision to leave which he’d managed to talk me out of, and now, having been through the worst and having him want to commit to me in such a final way, that didn’t seem right either.
“It’s this marriage thing.” I paused, wondering how to avoid hurting his feelings. “Do you seriously think it’s a good idea?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think it was.”
“It’s... it’s just that we’ve both been stung by marriage before, and I was thinking that maybe we shouldn’t go down that road again.”
“You already said yes, Em. Are you wanting to take that back?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “We could live together, couldn’t we? Isn’t it a bit old fashioned...marriage?”
“I prefer the term traditional, and I am a traditionalist. It’s important to me.”
“What about all the things you’d be giving up?”
“Like what?” He sounded bemused.
“Like the apartment that you like so much and that suits you so well. I have to be here because of the horses. I can’t live there, so you’d have to live here.” He swept his hair back from his face with one hand as he replied.
“My home is wherever you are, Em. It doesn’t matter to me what roof is over my head. Anyway, if you haven’t noticed, I’ve already moved in.”
I suddenly realised that of course he had. I couldn’t remember a time when he’d chosen to sleep at his apartment when he didn’t have to. Why couldn’t I accept that he wanted me and be happy? Perhaps however far I moved forward I still felt as though I didn’t deserve to find happiness. He carried on, his tone serious.
“Stop over-thinking this, Em. You and I need to be together, you know that. I like looking after you, when you let me, and I think you like looking after me. You can keep on putting up obstacles for as long as you like, but I will overcome each and every one. I am not Alex, I will not betray you or let you down...and you’ve already said yes, so unless you can come up with a valid reason for us not to get married” and standing, he held out his hand to me “I’m taking you back to bed.”
I couldn’t come up with anything else. His words did ease my worries and I wished I could be more like him. He was so confident, so definite, particularly where our future was concerned, and I knew he was carrying me along with him.
“I don’t think I can go back to sleep now.”
The sky was already lightening, a broken layer of purple-coloured cloud was tinged pink along its lower edge as the sun came ever closer to rising. Susie jumped down as Trent pulled me to my feet and took my hand to lead me in.
“I have no intention of letting you sleep.”
“Are you going to tell everyone?” I asked as he ate breakfast and I toyed with a piece of toast.
“I thought we might go and see Cavendish and Grace later. Word will soon spread.” He looked at me to see if I agreed with this course of action. I nodded. It seemed okay to me. He cleared his throat before continuing, “Before we see them, though, it might be a good idea to know what sort of wedding we want...”
“What were you thinking of then?” I asked cautiously.
“
I’m not sure actually but do you want a church wedding? I have no idea if you’re religious or not, but I’m happy to go for a church wedding if you are.”
This was an issue for me. I used to go to church, I used to have a faith, but that had all gone when Eva died. I couldn’t believe that the God who was supposed to love me could cause Eva to suffer and bring so much pain to me, and I’d turned my back on him. However, whenever I thought of Eva I couldn’t imagine her as being anywhere other than in heaven, so it was complicated.
“No church,” I replied.
“So I’d imagine there would be no problem with us getting married here then?”
“Sounds good.”
“We could have something small, intimate...” I sensed he was testing out what I might be happy with.
“That would be fine. When were you thinking?”
He didn’t even hesitate. “First weekend in September.”
What? Was he insane? “This September?”
“Yes.”
“As in the September that’s happening in a few weeks’ time?”
“Yes. Before the children go back to school. Why, what’s the problem?”
“We couldn’t get it all organised in time.”
“What is there to organise? I’ll sort out the paperwork, we invite everyone on the estate, they turn up and we say our vows. It couldn’t be simpler...” Taking in the expression on my face, he stopped. “What’s wrong?” I felt bad for not showing more enthusiasm, but I honestly didn’t think that was entirely my fault. This time yesterday life had been trundling along again; I was only just getting used to being back to normal, and now suddenly I was under all sorts of pressure to organise a wedding – and for it all to be done within a very short space of time.
“There’s more to it than that and you know it, and I don’t feel up to organising it all at the moment, Trent. I still feel out of sorts after last week, and it all feels a bit overwhelming. There’s food and music, and I’ll have to get a dress...”
He stopped me. “I don’t want you to be overdoing it, that’s true. You do need time to recover. How about we talk to Grace and see what she might be able to help us with, and go from there? Knowing her, she’ll want to take on the whole thing, and all you will need to do is get a dress.”
Although she’s meant to be recovering too, I thought. “One thing I would like in this simple wedding of ours.”
“What’s that?”
“No speeches.”
“Works for me, although Cavendish may be disappointed. He’d love the opportunity to tell a few embarrassing stories about me.”
“Ah, I hadn’t thought about that, could be entertaining...”
Trent added quickly, “No, I agree with you, no speeches.”
Cavendish and Grace were absolutely delighted when we told them later, immediately insisting that we held the whole thing there. Champagne was opened. Grace, brimming with excitement and ideas, soon excused herself and disappeared from the room. Cavendish watched her go, and I sensed his concern.
“Is she okay?” I asked tentatively.
“She will be, she will be,” he replied brightly, repeating the phrase as if to convince himself. Then his usual enthusiasm returned as he poured more champagne. “This is just what she needs, actually, a project to get her teeth into, something else to focus on for a while. Organising a wedding will do her the world of good.”
Whatever works for her, I thought. It certainly wasn’t something I could cope with at the moment.
Cavendish knew his wife well. This news was exactly what she needed. Within half an hour it was as though the whole estate already knew, and if they weren’t able to join us at the Manor then our phones rang with calls and texts of congratulation.
I felt out of my depth as the plans developed around me, Grace discussing the food and drink with Mrs F, then floating ideas past me. I nodded along to everything. I was sure whatever they came up with would be fine with me.
In the end the only thing I had to do was get a dress, and even that was felt to be too onerous a task for me to take on alone. On the following Monday, as soon as I’d finished the horses, I was picked up by Grace, Greene and Mrs F. We went to a wedding shop in the local town, and the others played dress-up using me as the doll. If the shop assistants found anything odd about my still blackened eye and the stitches in the slash across my arm, they made no comment, and neither did anyone else, although once I caught Grace staring at the wound, her eyes shining with barely-held-back emotion. I caught her eye and smiled, reassuring her it was okay. She smiled back shakily and turned away to look at veils, something that I did know was not going to be happening.
Once everyone else was happy with the choices made, and I apparently looked beautiful, which I thought unlikely, we returned home. I was content in the knowledge that I was going back to work properly the next day and would immerse myself in that.
That evening, as we ate dinner, Trent brought up the subject of whom to invite to the wedding. I thought we’d covered this. I thought we’d agreed to invite everyone on the estate, their other halves and families, which would come to a decent number. It wasn’t as if either of us had family to invite. Trent had told me his parents had died only a few years ago, and he had no siblings or extended family. But he asked me if there was anyone off the estate that I wanted to invite. I looked over at him, searching his face for some clue as to why he would have brought this up. He knew my parents had died in a car accident when I was five. I’d been passed from one set of foster parents to another from then on until I’d met and married Alex straight from school. Surely he wasn’t suggesting I invite Alex? Unsurprisingly, it turned out it wasn’t Alex he was thinking of.
“I wondered if there was anyone from your past, possibly some of your foster parents, you might want to invite.”
There wasn’t. I’d only been fond of my first set, those who had taken me in when I was scared and alone, but my trust in them had been broken when, with no warning, I’d been sent to live with another set within a couple of years. It was then that I saw straight through them all. They were only doing this because they got paid to, and I never allowed myself to grow attached to any of them again. I tried to explain this to Trent.
“So you never tried to stay in touch with any of them?”
I shrugged. “There was one exception. I remember when I had Eva, I suddenly had this need to get in touch with that first couple. Ben and Lisa. I had no one else to tell about my daughter, and I wanted to show her off to someone to show I was all grown up and how happy she’d made me. I went to find their house. I knew which village it was, though it was quite a way away, and once there I had to try and find their house from my memories. I did find it, only to discover they no longer lived there which was bitterly disappointing.”
“So you didn’t look any further?”
“I didn’t bother because while I was there talking to the people who now owned the house, they were kind and called over a neighbour who had lived there thirty years or so, and though I didn’t remember her she remembered me well enough. She remembered me leaving and how distraught I was. She was good friends with Lisa and had had to comfort her afterwards, she was so upset. But then that was that. The next day they were gone.”
“Gone?”
“Yup, just like that apparently. No word to anyone, packed up overnight and left. No forwarding address, nothing. That’s why the incident had stuck in her mind.”
“That seems a bit odd.”
“Yes...but it could have been any number of things, couldn’t it? They were only renting so perhaps were in debt, behind with the rent, who knows? It would explain why they needed the money from fostering, but perhaps it wasn’t enough. I reasoned that’s why I was moved on.” It was the only plausible explanation I’d been able to come up with, and Trent agreed it seemed reasonable.
“So there’s no one else, then?” he reiterated. “I don’t want you to regret not having invited someone at a later date.” I
assured him there was no one else, and was happy to leave the subject.
Since my ride out with Carlton I felt more confident about going out on my own again, and assured Trent that I would be fine as I encouraged him back to work, practically shooing him out of the door. If he noticed whenever he returned home the door was always bolted, he didn’t say anything. It was good to be back among the horses again, and when I rode out I rode hard and fast, keeping busy, active, my mind occupied.
I went back to working out each evening, hoping that the return to my previous routine would settle my body down again. I was often working out at the same time as Turner, and could see why Trent and the others were worried about him. He was always there when I turned up, and still there when I left. In fact, I gathered he was there until long after I left. He worked out hard and nonstop, keeping to himself and not letting up for a moment. I’d also seen him using the punch-bag, practising punches and kicks, so one day I wandered over when I’d finished and offered to hold the bag for him.
With barely a grunt he nodded, and I took up position. After a couple of kicks I tentatively offered some advice on improving his technique. He hadn’t had any training, and I showed him how he could make his kicks more effective. He seemed to appreciate this, softening a little as he asked if he could hold the bag for me when I practised. This started to become a daily event, both of us working out, meeting at the end of my session for some punch-bag practice. Turner began to open up more, asking questions about the kickboxing I’d done. He was improving quickly. I was concerned he was pushing himself too fast too soon, but his wounds were healing well, and though his bruises were still visible they were fading. Sadly, though, an angry young man had replaced the light-hearted boy he’d been before the beating. Turner appeared to be hellbent on building up, and I feared he was doing it to ensure he would be able to defend himself should there be a next time, determined never to be in that vulnerable a position again.