Don't Let Me Go (59 page)

‘It would be my pleasure,’ Anthony told Chloe, ‘but you’ll have to show me where to sit, because it’s been a long time since I was on one.’

Chloe only blinked.

‘I think we should put him on the top of the bus, don’t you?’ Charlotte suggested.

Whether or not Chloe heard wasn’t clear, as she took a noisy breath and turned to hide her face in Charlotte.

Laughing, Charlotte scooped her up and said, ‘Shall I tell you a secret about Anthony? He’s the one who fought off all the bad people so we could find you and bring you back here.’

Chloe’s eyes widened as she turned to him.

Her very own hero
, Charlotte hoped. ‘So I reckon that makes him your special friend too, don’t you?’ she continued.

Chloe tilted her head against Charlotte’s and twisted her hands around one another.

‘I definitely think we’re going to be friends,’ Anthony informed her, ‘especially now I know you make such good cakes.’

Coming over self-conscious again, Chloe turned her face into Charlotte’s neck, and wrapped her arms around her. More than happy with how well the first meeting had gone, Charlotte carried her back to the table, where she whispered a reminder that Grandpa hadn’t had his cake yet.

Keeping her back to the room, Chloe reached out a hand as she said, ‘Want Boots.’

Knowing she always wanted her bear when she felt insecure, Charlotte lifted him off the table and tucked him under her arm. ‘Are you going to give Grandpa his cake now?’ she asked, unwilling to force it, but feeling terrible for Bob if it turned out that nothing had changed.

With her face half buried in Boots, Chloe slid to the ground and put the last cake on a plate. As she tottered towards Bob with Boots still trapped under one arm, she kept her eyes down, so didn’t see how thrilled he was looking.

‘My goodness,’ he declared as she reached him, ‘it’s the best cake I’ve ever seen and you’ve spelled my name right too. Not everyone does, you know.’

Chloe’s head stayed down.

‘Shall I have it?’ he asked, when she hung on to it.

Still not looking up, she pushed the plate forward.

‘Thank you,’ he said warmly. ‘I think I’m going to enjoy . . .’ He broke off as, to everyone’s surprise, she started to climb on to his lap.

Bemused, but quickly setting aside the cake, he lifted her up and settled her on his knee. ‘There, how’s that?’ he smiled, holding her steady and glancing to Charlotte to make sure everything was all right.

Charlotte merely shrugged, as taken aback as he was.

Chloe’s words were lost in Boots as she whispered something, so Bob said, ‘What was that, sugar? I didn’t quite hear.’

Chloe’s head came up a fraction. ‘Play ride the tiger,’ she said.

Horrified, Charlotte quickly went to kneel in front of her and took hold of her hands. ‘Grandpa doesn’t play those games, sweetheart,’ she told her firmly. ‘He doesn’t like them, and you don’t either, do you?’

Chloe shook her head.

‘So you don’t have to play them, not ever again. OK?’

Chloe looked at her miserably.

‘
Not ever again
,’ Charlotte repeated.

Chloe’s eyes went down. ‘I’m a good girl,’ she said brokenly.

Smoothing her face, Charlotte said, ‘Yes you are, a very, very good girl, and it’s only bad men who play that game. And Grandpa isn’t a bad man. He’s a very good man like Uncle Wick and Anthony.’

Chloe regarded her uncertainly.

‘Grandpa’s never done anything to hurt you, has he?’ Charlotte reminded her.

Chloe shook her head.

‘So you see, he’s a good man and he only plays games like pass the parcel, or cricket, or hide and seek. And he wants to learn how to do jigsaws. You’re very good at them, aren’t you?’

Chloe nodded.

‘So why don’t we eat our cakes and drink our tea, then we can show Grandpa some of your new puzzles.’

‘I’ve got some new puzzles,’ Chloe said softly.

‘Yes you have, lots of them, and Grandpa would love you to show him how to do them.’

Wriggling down from Bob’s lap, Chloe grabbed Charlotte’s hand and pulled her towards the door. ‘Get them now?’ she said.

Deciding that discipline could wait, considering what a breakthrough this might be, Charlotte took her along to her bedroom and returned with an armful of colourful boxes. After laying them out on the floor and settling Chloe in the middle of them, she watched for a while as Bob and her mother helped her to lay out the pieces, then signalled to Anthony to follow her into the kitchen.

‘That was amazing,’ she commented quietly. ‘It’s the first time she’s ever had anything to do with Bob. It’s going to mean so much to him if she starts to accept him.’ She smiled at him lovingly as she slipped her arms round his neck. ‘So what do you think of her?’ she asked, feeling as though she might burst with pride as she recalled the way Chloe had given him a cake.

‘Well, she’s every bit as cute and adorable as I expected,’ he replied, sweeping her face with his eyes. ‘Perhaps even more so.’

‘I think she liked you,’ she said. ‘And I’m sure she’ll like you even more if you take her on the carousel . . .’

His eyes narrowed dangerously.

‘. . . but you might just be off the hook on that, because we’re bound to be recognised and I’m not sure any of us wants to face that today.’

‘You’re right, we don’t,’ he agreed, ‘but we’ll have to at some point, so we ought to start thinking about how we want to deal with it.’

With a wry twist to her smile, she said, ‘It might help if we could get Heather Hancock to tone it down a bit.’

‘She will,’ he assured her, ‘once I’ve had a chat with her editor, because there are negative campaigns, and then there’s libel, and I’m afraid she’s crossed the line a couple of times this past week.’

Liking the sound of that, Charlotte asked, ‘Are we going to sue?’

‘We’re certainly going to let them think we are,’ he replied, ‘but in the grand scheme of things she’s just a local hack who no one seems to be taking much notice of anyway. And as we can’t expect everyone to love you quite as much as Chloe and I do, I think we’ll just give her a bit of a scare and get on with our lives. Agreed?’

Charlotte was gazing at him incredulously. ‘Do you really love me?’

He appeared surprised. ‘You have to ask?’

Laughing, she said, ‘Could you say it again, please?’

‘Certainly,’ he murmured against her lips, ‘but right at this moment there’s a little person behind you who I think would like you to turn around and notice her.’

Immediately conscious of how disturbing Chloe might find any physical displays of affection between her and Anthony, Charlotte quickly pulled away. ‘Hello, my darling,’ she said, going to pick her up, ‘how’s Grandpa getting on with the jigsaws?’

‘What you doing?’ Chloe asked in a small voice.

‘Well,’ Charlotte replied, thinking fast, ‘I was just giving Anthony a kiss, because that’s what people do when they love each other, don’t they? Like I kiss you, and you kiss me.’

‘And Boots,’ Chloe reminded her.

‘And Boots, we mustn’t forget him, because we love kissing him, don’t we?’

Chloe nodded and looked warily at Anthony.

Deciding a change of subject was the best way to go, Anthony said, ‘Someone told me you’ve got a new stroller, and I think I’d like to see it.’

Immediately sliding through Charlotte’s arms to the floor, Chloe ran along the hall to her bedroom. Moments later she was wheeling the stroller straight past the kitchen into the sitting room.

‘Well, it was brief,’ Anthony said drily as Charlotte started to laugh, ‘but at least I saw it.’

Chapter Twenty-Eight

ANTHONY AND CHARLOTTE
were dancing closely to the romantic sounds of a lazy jazz sax. Though the tourists had long since gone from Kesterly, leaving the beach strewn with random tangles of seaweed and other flotsam, and the leaves on the plane trees had faded to bronze before vanishing on the breeze, a window was open allowing the salty tang of sea air to mingle with the citrus scent of candles. Chloe was fast asleep in her bed, where she’d been sleeping more regularly lately, after a long and sometimes seemingly endless battle to persuade her that Charlotte wasn’t going to disappear in the night. Now, it was rare for Charlotte to sleep in with her, though there were still occasions when Charlotte would wake up in her own bed to find Chloe curled up on the floor next to it, sometimes asleep, but just as often awake and clinging to Boots. Charlotte would invariably lift her up and take her back to her room, staying with her until it was time to get up in the morning.

If she and Anthony hadn’t slept in the nude it might have been possible to bring Chloe in with them, but wearing clothes in bed was one concession neither of them was willing to make.

What really mattered, though, was that Chloe’s initial shyness with Anthony had evaporated, along with the days and weeks that had helped to bond them. Now she was almost as pleased to see him when he came back after a spell in London as Charlotte was. While he was gone she’d speak to him on the phone telling him about her day, and at weekends she loved nothing more than to go with him to the miniature village, or to play crazy golf, or to climb Milligan’s rock. Occasionally he took her fishing and riding. Naturally, Charlotte had to go along too, and she had images from those trips now that she knew would stay with her for ever, such as when Chloe, sitting astride an enormous thoroughbred in front of Anthony, tilted her head back to look up at him and broke into a breathy little smile. And the day she’d caught her first fish at the end of a line (having no idea Anthony had put it there); she’d looked so proud, so important as she held it in her hands to pose for the camera that even Anthony had seemed misty-eyed.

There were so many moments piling up on top of each other to create her little world: a return to the Pumpkin playgroup where Charlotte was helping out part-time; trips to London to stay in Anthony’s villa next to the park; hours of fun in the tree house at Maggie’s and Ron’s and lots of exploring to be done in Devon with her new cousins Phoebe and Jackson. Of course, there was much Skyping with everyone in New Zealand too. Though she’d still only got as far as being jigsaw mates with Bob by the time he’d left, there had been one wonderful morning when Danni and Craig had persuaded her, over Skype, to have a ride on his back the way they often did. It seemed to surprise even her to realise how much she loved it, and she’d clapped her hands with glee as everyone cheered at the end. Since then it had fallen to Anthony to provide the rides, which he often did as a way of getting her to bed, and tonight had been no exception.

As the music faded, and Charlotte went to refill their glasses, he sank into the sofa and stretched luxuriously as he said, ‘You know, I’ve been thinking.’

‘Mm?’ she prompted, licking a stray drop of Shiraz from her fingers.

‘About buying a vineyard.’

Stopping what she was doing, she turned round slowly. Given how close they’d become over the last few months, she couldn’t quite believe he’d been contemplating such a big decision without her. ‘OK,’ she said carefully. ‘And this vineyard would be where, exactly?’

‘Actually, about five miles from Kerikeri,’ he replied. ‘Heading north.’

She blinked.

‘I’d have mentioned it before,’ he went on, ‘but I wasn’t sure until now that the chap really wanted to sell. If he didn’t, and we got our hopes up . . .’

‘Stop, stop,’ she protested. ‘You’re planning to become a vintner in
New Zealand
– the Bay of Islands – and you never mentioned it?’

‘Well, like I said . . .’

‘I heard what you said, but can you imagine what a difference it would have made to me if I’d known you were even thinking about it?’

Grimacing, as it seemed to occur to him now, he said, ‘I wanted it to be a surprise.’

She almost had to laugh. ‘Well, it’s certainly that,’ she informed him, still not entirely sure she’d heard him right. ‘Can you say again where it is?’ she urged.

He repeated it.

Oh my God, he really had said New Zealand
. Forcing herself to stay calm, though having no idea why, she said, ‘OK, before I start breaking out the champagne or thinking I’m dreaming, please can you remind me what you actually know about running a vineyard – or making wine, or even living in New Zealand, which is a very long way from . . .’

‘Your turn to stop,’ he objected, holding up a hand. ‘This particular vineyard isn’t huge, but it’s profitable, and my man of business has been vetting it for me . . .’

‘Your man of business?’

‘Bob.’

‘Of course,’ she cried, throwing out her hands. How could any of this have been possible without Bob, Anthony’s new best friend – sorry, man of business – who he was forever on the phone to, or Skyping, or emailing?

‘
And,
’ Anthony pressed on, ‘there’s a small restaurant in the grounds, already established, with a successful chef willing to stay on, plus another property that we thought you might like to make yours for whatever purpose. But only after you’ve renovated the main house for us to live in, which is large but doable, your mother assures me, and I know you want to put your own stamp on somewhere, so I’m thinking this will work very well provided you’re . . . Why are you looking at me like that?’ He asked sounding wary.

‘Why do you think?’ she cried, clasping her hands to her head. ‘You’re making me the happiest person in the entire world and treating it as though it’s just a little something you thought up . . . What about your house? Your life here? Are you really saying you want to move to New Zealand?’

‘Of course that’s what I’m saying. You didn’t think I was going to let you go without me, surely?’

‘Well, I don’t know. I mean, obviously I knew you were planning to fly back with us when the time comes, and perhaps to stay on for a while, but
buying a vineyard
 . . .’

‘With a restaurant and a house for you to turn into a home while I’m learning how to make wine. I was thinking of starting a course while we’re still here, but now we’ve got our day in court for the adoption order it seems to make more sense to wait till we get there.’