Falling For You (43 page)

What are we going to say to everyone?

We are so near to Clare Farm now that I think, if I were standing at my own bedroom window looking out I would see us coming down the hill. To my surprise, we have made it back in well under an hour. Lawrence helped me, piggy-back style where the snow was deepest, along the top lane. I thought it was going to be real tough going but when we got to the middle stretch we found a good long section where the lane was completely cleared and I could walk it by myself easily. It felt so strange to be able to see the actual path beneath my feet. The fact that it was still there. In the forty-eight hours or so since I’ve been away I’d come to believe maybe the real wor
l
d had completely gone. I couldn’t remember what it was like to see the sticks and leaves poking out through the hedgerows, mud on the ground,
life
in the air.

And it is not only the air. To my surprise, we’ve come across people on our way down, too. A couple walking their dog hailed us loudly from the clear stretch.

‘A bit trickier further down,’ they warned cheerfully. I saw them smile as Lawrence set me down on the path, imagining we were just any ordinary young couple - young lovers - out to play in the snow.

Lawrence
smiled at them briefly and they went on their way but... somehow, coming across them seemed to break some kind of spell. It brought home that we really were on our way back, and everything that would mean for each of us. Maybe that’s why so much of the way we travelled in silence, each churning over our own thoughts? After the couple went by, I got in touch with how sad I was feeling. Those two were together and that’s the way they were going to stay but it wasn’t going to be like that for
us,
was it?  When Lawrence held out his hand to hold mine on the last stretch home I was thinking; are we going to be holding hands like this when we turn up at Clare Farm? Am I going to introduce him to everyone as the guy who helped me get back home or as my boyfriend or as... I squeeze my eyes tight shut for a moment, not even wanting to
think
the next thought that threatens to come into my head. Do the family have to know who he really is?
Do they have to know straight away? 

‘Hey,’ Lawrence swings my arm in a wide arc now, calling me back to him. ‘It’s going to be okay, Rose.’ I gulp, suddenly, aware of an apprehension that’s been growing ever since we left the ruin.

‘What do you want me to tell them about you?’ I blurt out suddenly. ‘I mean, how much should I say?’

He stops and turns to face me for a moment. In the hours since I got up this morning, the dank mist has slowly lifted. There’s a brightness and a promise to the day that was not there before.

‘Tell them what you have to,’ I feel his hands squeeze mine lightly. ‘Don’t tell any lies on my account. But I think, Rose ...’
H
e hesitates and I feel a tug of anxiety in my chest at what is coming, at all the unknown excruciating moments that are coming up in the next few minutes, the next few hours and days;

‘I think maybe it’d be better if we turned up at your house separately ...’

I take him in carefully, at his eyes that are watching mine so candidly. My first, treacherous thought, that he intends to get away the minute we separate -
that he’s only come this far with me because he wouldn’t leave me on my own
- is assuaged. He wouldn’t do that to me. Of course he won’t. 

‘Why?’ I say painfully. What he’s suggesting makes a kind of sense to me, even before I ask it. I need to reconnect with the group. I need to make my explanations. I need to see Dad, prepare him for what’s coming. The thought makes me nervous again; it makes me feel afraid. I don’t know how Dad is going to react to all of this, do I? I’ve had ages to get to know Lawrence, to appreciate who he really is, what he’s about, but Dad might still perceive him as a threat. The shock of it, Lawrence turning up at his door suddenly, it might all be too much for him.
No, I need to go first, pave the way, that makes sense.
I feel a sudden raft of doubts crowding in now. I’ve made the assumption that this is what Dad needs; this’ll be the thing that will reassure him, let him sleep in peace again at night. But what if I’m wrong?

‘We’ll find a way, Rose, to tell them everything we need to say. Both of us.’

And then they will take you away from me.  
I feel a rush of tears come into my eyes. I wipe them away brusquely before Lawrence sees. No time for that now, is there? We’ve got to get back and face the world now. We’ve got to be brave.

And the world... like the sun, just starting to peep over the edge of those clouds - it’s already here. We’re not alone anymore. A middle-aged couple, out with two kids in their early teens and a younger child, are climbing the snowy part of the hill, all of them with sledges in tow.  I think I recognise her as one of the local primary school teachers. Some way behind them, three men in their twenties are throwing snow about. Their laughter crackles into the still morning air. And now the sound of the tractors starts up again. They are so near. There’s one on the lane just ahead of us. It’s stopped, but the engine is making an almighty noise. There’s a sense, unquestionably, of everything waking up, of a world slowly coming out of hibernation. And again I feel a sense of regret, that this fragile, frozen world we’ve been inhabiting these last few days, it’s not going to last. I feel my sadness that what we had is slipping away and in truth I don’t know if - out in this noisy, demanding and judgemental world we’re now going back to, our feelings for each other can survive...

‘They’ll take you away from me,’ I say out loud.

Lawrence
puts his head down, pulling me back onto the journey again, making me move.

‘Think about what we’re going back to
restore
, Rose,’ he tells me. I see his eyes are glistening, too.
Your dad’s dignity
, he means.
His peace of mind
.

At what price to you, though? I think. But I can’t stop this. I know that. This is the way it has to be.  But boy... is it difficult. I want to throw my arms about his neck and hug Lawrence to me. I want to breathe in the scent of him, feel the scratchy bristles on his face with my fingers, just
feel
him, one last time...

‘Hey, fella.’ A man’s loud voice slices right through our last bit of private space and we both look over to see who’s calling. One of the tractor-drivers is calling Lawrence over.

‘You look like a strong, healthy young bloke...’ the man is jovial, smiling. He does a double take, then, observing the grey tired lines around Lawrence’s eyes, taking in his obvious fatigue. ‘
She been keeping you awake, fella?’
His laugh rings out over the brightening air
.
He seems quite pleased with his innuendo. I put my head down, but I can’t help seeing that in front of the tractor there are two other men and a woman.  A large tree cracked right in two has fallen across the lane and the tractor can’t make any further progress till it’s cleared.  I notice, with a little jolt, that the woman and one of the men are wearing high-visibility green jackets that say ‘Community Police Service’ on them.  They smile over at me and my boyfriend and the woman rolls her eyes at me, a fellow female in the presence of raucous men -
silly joke
,
eh?

I pull a smile back.  I’m sure it looks like a grotesque grin but it’s as good as I can manage.

‘All right?’ her companion addresses me now. ‘How’s your dad?’

I freeze. ‘Good,’ I say. This man recognises me as my father’s daughter but I don’t know him. All I know is he is a community police officer and Lawrence is standing here beside me. My heart is suddenly thudding very fast, very loud.

‘We need to get back to him, now...’ I look at Lawrence significantly, offering him the chance to get away but he stands fast, remembering our previous agreement that I go in first.

‘You not staying to help, then?’ the tractor man looks at me with mock disappointment.

‘I’ll stay,’ Lawrence comes between us. ‘Rose fell. She’s got stitches in her leg.’ He turns to me now. ‘Can you make it from here, Rose?’

I start to shake my head but he looks at me warningly. He knows very well I can make it back from here. He wants me to go. I look at the community police and back to him again with growing distress. I don’t want to leave him here with them. What if they start asking innocent questions? I know right now they don’t realise who he is. Even if they’ve been on the look-out for him, any photos they have must be at least five years old. And they’d never, ever, expect to see their wanted man travelling back down the lanes with
me
of all people, would they? The fact that he’s just showed up with me, makes Lawrence safer, if anything.

‘Go home, Rose,’ Lawrence urges. ‘This could take a little while ...’
H
e indicates the fallen tree. ‘These things aren’t easy to shift, believe me. It’s okay to go on ahead of me.’ He wants me to, it’s what we’ve agreed and I know I should just go.

‘What?’ he smiles ruefully. ‘You don’t trust me?’ The others are all aware of us and I know it. They’re getting back to their log-clearing operation but they’re not talking amongst themselves anymore, all acutely aware of
our
conversation and it feels like a too-public moment. I let out a breath.

‘I promise we’ll send him back to you in one piece, princess
.
’
T
he tractor-driver pipes up and they all smile. I have to plaster a smile on my face, too, at that.

‘Sure,’ I say and there’s a sudden murmur of camaraderie amongst the others. 

‘Everything will be fine,’ Lawrence promises. Before I go, he reaches down to kiss me.  One last time.  His lips on mine are like the marzipan and apricot layer of a cake at Christmas; his lips are like a promise of spring, green shoots of narcissus peeping out from under the ice. His lips say he loves me, I can trust him and he will be down soon but I know that when he does...

Everything will not all be fine.

When I reach for my house key in the bottom of my coat pocket, I’m aware of a slight surprise that it’s still even there. Of course it is there. Just like all the other everyday things of my life will still be here. I wait for a few seconds before putting the key into the door. I know what I am really worried about but I tell myself the best way will be to take things one step at a time. For now, all is well. I am about to walk back into normality. Safety. The known.

In a moment I will open the front door and the same warm smell of cherry polish will greet me as it always does. The same slightly-damp carpet smell. The scent of whatever’s cooking in the kitchen will waft down the hallway. When I walk through, the windows at the back will be steamed up because the seal on the glazing is going. The large pot of red poinsettias that Mrs P bought us from the market will still be sitting on the table in the hall, its leaves starting to slightly curl at the edges by now. And Dad... I let my mind go up the stairs to where his bedroom is; I imagine him still sitting there in his chair by the window.

He’ll have been waiting for me to come home, I think.

 Everything will be normal. The only thing that will have changed is me.
I’ve
changed. I’m not the same person I was when I left here two days ago. I’m not, am I? My fingers run over the jagged ends of my house-key. All the things that I still have to tell them at home, all the uncomfortable truths I am going to have to speak jostle like nervous ghosts at my back, making me jumpy. I insert the key into the keyhole and turn it. Push the door open. I walk inside. I feel... strange. I don’t feel normal.

When Uncle Ty appears suddenly out of the sitting room now, my heart gives a jump at the look of surprise that crosses his face.

‘Rose!’ he says, his eyes opening slightly in amazement. ‘You’re back. Is everything all right?’  
Is it? You tell me...

‘How’s my dad?’ I get out.

Ty frowns ever so slightly, and my heart tightens.
Don’t tell me anything bad...  

‘He’s doing fine,’ Ty says.      

I search his eyes for clues of what Carlotta might possibly have made of the jumbled conversation we had this morning, but he just looks surprised to see me so soon.

‘The lanes are clear, then?’ I nod, trying to get my brain to engage my tongue to speak.

‘They’re clearing them. Someone helped me back,’ I say. I wait for him to ask who; the doorway to the beginning of everything they are going to need to learn. I’ll tell them little by little, I decide. They don’t need to know the truth about Lawrence all at once. But Ty is still staring at me. When I turn to the mirror in the hallway I can see immediately what he’s so taken aback by is my
appearance
. My clothes are rumpled and look slept-in. All I’ve had to wash in for the last few days has been those small bowlfuls of melted snow we had. My hair is tousled and untidy, and I appear to be juddering with the cold, even though I’m feeling really hot on entering this centrally-heated space.

‘I got... a bit cold walking back,’ I tell him through chattering teeth.

‘You walked? Good
God
, girl, I know this bit is still snowed in but when you mentioned someone had brought you home just now, Rose I assumed you meant
you'd
come at least part of the way by car.’ Ty takes me by the shoulders and marches me in a no-argument manner to the bottom of the stairs. Whatever his misgivings
are about
my dishevelled state, he’s clearly holding them in check till the needs of the body are sorted out. 

‘Look, have a hot bath, love. Get changed. Then come down and we’ll talk.’ That’s it? I hesitate, longing for the chance. It would be an easy escape if I could do that.

‘I can’t talk just yet. I’ve got a... friend coming over soon,’ I say. ‘The person who brought me back. He’s just stopped to help some people move a tree.’

‘He’s coming here
now
?’ Ty blinks, taking this in. The news of a third party about to arrive, shifts something in him, I sense it. His own priorities suddenly swing a little closer like horses on a carousel.

‘Ah. The thing is - as you probably have guessed - there is something you and I really need to talk about, Rose.’

I squirm. Is this thing he’s so keen to get off his chest about
me
, my being away these past few days, where I’ve been and who I’ve been with... or is it about Dad? I’m not sure which one I’m looking forward to talking about least.     

‘You said Dad was fine,’ I say tightly.

‘Fine is a
relative
term, Rose.’ Ty pauses for a second. ‘He could be a lot finer. I think you know that. I had a chance to put together some proposals for his future while you were away and we need to make space to discuss them.’ In one way, I feel relieved. He doesn’t want to bring up where I’ve been then, this is not about me.  Then I feel my face growing hot at the uncomfortable thought; is this what they’ve been concerning themselves with, these past few days? Googling care homes for Dad and working out costs and... and what not? What does Ty mean about ‘proposals for Dad’s future?’ I don’t like the sound of that at all. I don’t like the fact that they’ve come up with these proposals while I was away and without consulting me first.

‘He’s not going into a care home, Ty.’

‘
Rose,
’ Ty persists ‘I need you to be open to discussion on where we go next. I need you to keep your Dad’s best interests in mind.’ Ty clears his throat. ‘I
need
,’ he continues, ‘for you to be on side with this or else we’re never going to persuade my brother to do what’s in his best interests. Understood?’ My heart sinks at the implication. I am not going to like what he has to say next, am I?

‘Hey,’ he pats my hand firmly. We both turn to look as Carlotta appears from the kitchen now, carrying a bowl of soup. The flavoursome smell of it makes my mouth water and I realise I’m suddenly gazing at her soup like a famished person.

‘I heard voices in the hallway,’ she says. I look down at the floor to escape her frank open-mouthed stare as she takes in the state of me. ‘Rose! Where have you
been
?’ She plucks at the sleeve of my arm, a little bewildered. ‘Has everything been all right? I mean,’ she swallows, ‘I realise you probably had to sleep on somebody’s couch, but you look... really rough.’

Of course, I must look rough to her. I suck in my lips. They’re going to think the same of Lawrence when he eventually turns up, too. They’re going to think I’ve been hanging out with tramps under an archway...

‘Conditions weren’t all that great,’ I admit. ‘At least we had a roof over our...’

‘Would you like this soup?’ Carlotta virtually pushes the bowl into my hands. ‘I haven’t touched it yet.’ She shakes her head slightly at my uncle. She suspects something’s up. She’s a woman; she
knows
it.

‘Thanks,’ I get out gratefully. ‘If it’s okay with you guys - I’ll have it upstairs.’ I look up and the peace and quiet at the top of the steps,
my own steps, in my own home
, beckons enticingly. I’m half-expecting my aunt to demur at that, to come up with some objection at food being eaten in bedrooms, but she doesn’t.

‘I’ll need to check in on Dad, too,’ I say half-heartedly.
It’s not that I don’t want to see him, it’s just that I’m dreading ...

‘Listen love, your dad’s been
fine
and in any event I believe he’s asleep right now,
’
my aunt pats my hand firmly. ‘Get changed. Get dry.
Then
we can all speak.’  Aunt Carlotta isn’t really all that bad, I think, in sudden wonder. Ty seems to relent slightly at her intervention but now that I’ve got the soup in my hands, wobbling so precariously as I start going up the stairs, the ‘
something that we need to talk about’
that he mentioned is preying on my mind.

‘Your aunt’s right,’ Ty concedes.  ‘You need to get yourself sorted first of course. It’s just that ...’
H
e stops himself in time as he goes automatically to look at his watch, ‘If you’re expecting company it’s important we speak sooner rather than later. The girls want to leave ASAP as you’ll appreciate, and once word comes through that the Bentley’s sorted...’

Once the car is road-worthy they’ll be keen to be on their way. I’ve barely arrived back home and soon they will be off. In some ways it feels like a relief but I know it really isn’t. It feels - very unsatisfactory somehow, as if some opportunity I’ve barely even imagined yet, might have been missed. I take another step up the stairs. The hot soup wobbles slightly over the edge of the bowl, lapping at my fingers, and I make a real effort to steady it.

I’ve only been back a short while and already I feel bombarded. I was worried about how I was going to tell them about everything but now it feels as if maybe my family were waiting to ambush
me
with all their concerns the moment I walked through the door...

Ty wants me to persuade Dad to let them put him into Forsythes. I can’t imagine that it’s anything else. My uncle seems so set and determined. Like my dad could be at times, I remember; it’s a family trait. I hear Carlotta come and stand behind him as I go up; together they make a formidable team, solid, unbreakable.
I’m about to lose the only boy who I ever wanted to be my boyfriend
, the thought slips into my head;
and now they want to take the only other person who matters away from me, too...

I continue up the stairs without another word. Right at this moment I haven’t got any words left. I have to change out of these clothes. I have to talk to Dad before Lawrence gets here - that’s more important than all this care-home stuff that Ty and Carlotta will want to speak about, I tell myself. All that can wait. Lawrence is coming. And what Dad has waited to hear all this time has already taken long enough.

I change quickly, tie my hair back.  I don’t even drink the soup. When I go into Dad’s room, he is sleeping in his chair and his hands are cold. I have to tuck
them
in under the blanket like I always do. I kiss the top of his head and my heart, my heart is bursting with so many things when I come up from the long, gentle hug that I have given him while he sleeps. Oh, Dad. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing, here.

All I know is; if you can’t let Lawrence speak the words he has to say I don’t see how we are ever going to move away from this tangled mess we’ve allowed our lives to get into. I don’t know how we are ever going to move on.

Now I’m standing here beside you, the clock on the bedside table ticking comfortingly, your favourite curtains - the ones Mum sewed so many years ago - half-drawn, only letting in a little bit of light, I’m not so sure anymore if you’ll even want to move on. If you’re ready for it.

‘
Will you please give him a chance, Dad
?’ My plea sounds so loud, even though I am whispering in the quiet bedroom air. I stop to take in my father and his breath is so shallow, the rise and fall of his chest so undetectable, that I have to touch him, just to make sure he’s still breathing.

‘Will you give Lawrence a chance?’ I lean in a little closer, ‘or are you going to fear and hate him straight away just like your people did to Isla?’  His breath halts altogether now and I stop talking. A few moments go by, while I wait. Then he lets out a long breath all in one go, and I can’t help wonder if, somewhere deep in his sleep maybe, he
heard
me.  He needs to hear me.