The Boy in the Olive Grove (22 page)

AFTER THE TUMULTUOUS
few months since I’d left St Annie’s, life was at last feeling settled. Living with Mum might never get better than our current tentative co-existence, but there were compensations elsewhere. School was busy and always entertaining. I had new friends as well as old ones. And always there was the joy of Nick, an ever-present warmth in my heart.

After his visit I began dropping into the factory every couple of weeks. It gave me a sense of connection with him to see his father. Clint never spoke directly about us being together, but he always greeted me warmly — tropically warmly for him. ‘Good to see you, Bess.’ Then he’d say, ‘That lad of mine — keeping out of mischief, is he?’

‘Yes.’ Then I’d sigh and add, ‘Unfortunately!’

And he’d try to look stern. ‘Glad to hear it.’

I began checking the factory website every week, to make sure the business was on track, but also because I liked to keep that connection with the men. Jason was doing a fantastic job of the photography, and the captions personalised the whole enterprise. Dad said Eddy was writing them — the guys gave him a hard time, but it was easy to tell they were chuffed to be acknowledged as the creator of each piece.
Clint Southey made this sideboard in Canadian cherry. Finishing work by Jason Crossland and Bernie Cooper. Design by Edwin Linford.

 

MID-YEAR EXAMS
kept me busy. I worked hard, largely because it helped pass the time between Nick’s fleeting visits. I stayed at Dad and Iris’s most weekends. A couple of times, I stayed with Hadleigh and Su Lin. Mum drove me there on each occasion. Su Lin disappeared to the library the first time, but the second time Hadleigh introduced her to both of us as the new flatmate.

‘How do you do,’ said Mum, not offering a handshake. ‘Did Marlene or Deirdre leave?’ She pronounced it
Deirdra
, which wasn’t how Deirdre said her name.

Hadleigh kept a straight face and said, ‘Gavin’s gone. It’s just me and the girls now, Mum. D’you reckon I’ll be safe?’

She didn’t answer, but took a good hard look around, frowning as she took in Su Lin’s Chinese scroll hanging on the lounge wall, her blue and white bowls on the kitchen bench, and the chopsticks beside them. At last her glance alighted on something worthy of comment. ‘Your car’s not outside, Hadleigh. Has something happened to it?’ She had her hand in her bag, ready to bring out the chequebook. I was standing beside Su Lin. Neither of us was in the room as far as Mum was concerned.

‘No, Mum. It’s sweet. Deirdre’s borrowed it.’

‘That’s very kind of you, I must say.’ She took out her car keys instead of the chequebook. ‘Can I drop you off anywhere?’

‘No. But thanks for the offer. Good to see you.’ Somehow, he manoeuvred her to the door, where she touched a finger to his cheek and said goodbye.

There was no farewell for me, and nothing for Su Lin.

‘I foresee storms ahead,’ Su Lin said in the voice of a soothsayer.

‘Let’s go and eat,’ Hadleigh said.

Three days later I borrowed Iris’s car to drive to the airport so that I could spend two hours with Nick who’d factored in a break in Hamilton en route to Tokyo.

Stolen moments. Precious moments.

We met again five days later on his way home. We stayed in the airport, him collapsed into a chair. ‘I’m so over being photographed. And that bloody manly glower. I’m over that big-time.’

I clapped my hands. ‘Show me!’

He sighed mightily but struck the pose. I shrieked with laughter.

‘I’ll have you know,’ he said, ‘that look is designed to make damsels swoon.’

I kept bursting into giggles the whole time we were together. He didn’t mind. He tucked my hand in his and said, ‘I quite like you, Bess Grey.’

We talked, as we often did, about the year to come. I’d be with him, studying science at Massey. ‘I’ll find us a warmer flat,’ he said. ‘The current one’s a fridge.’

‘Won’t our love keep us warm?’

He considered that. ‘Not a chance.’

‘Nick, these holidays — are you going to be staying around in Palmy?’ I held my breath. I wanted to go down there to spend the two weeks with him. I didn’t let my mind dwell on what that would mean.

I got a very long look, one that sent my sinews into meltdown. ‘Give me the dates.’

I knew them by heart. He whipped out his phone to check his diary, and groaned. ‘Bollocks. I’m
helping
with a science discovery programme. Young kids. It’s live-in. That’s the first week. The second week I’m doing a shoot in Samoa. But there’s always the next holidays. Tell me the dates. I’ll block out every single day.’

We looked at each other, our eyes full of promises.

They called his flight. It was wrenching to say goodbye. I watched as he turned to wave in the doorway of the plane and I didn’t leave the airport until I could no longer see the dot in the sky.

I missed him. Every second of every day was filled with the awareness of his absence. It was the same for him, he told me. Winter hit hard, and when we talked on Skype he was always wrapped in a blanket, usually with the kitten on his lap. Sometimes he helped me with a tricky chemistry problem, but I didn’t want our talks to become coaching sessions so I’d only ask if I was really stuck. Always, he’d finish with, ‘Dear girl, I love you beyond the years.’

‘I love you now, and for always.’

The olive grove lovers had been put to rest by the joy of our present. There had been no more images, and I didn’t need them or want them. The present was so much more vivid. No shadows hung over us now.

I spent the July holidays at home studying, and every second there was the yearning to be with Nick. Clodagh was in Australia, Charlotte didn’t invite me to her place, and Maddy had stayed at school to get extra tutoring. Nick phoned me every evening from the camp and I could hear the voices of excited kids in the background. ‘It’s good,’ he said. ‘Not near as good as being with you, but these kids are a hoot.’

Samoa, on the other hand, was a washout. ‘You wouldn’t believe it,’ he said over a scratchy
connection
, ‘this is the dry season and it’s rained every day.’

I drove up to Auckland to be with him for the three hours between when he landed and when he had to catch his flight back to Palmy. He held my hands tight.

‘How many weeks till the next holidays?’

‘Ten. Eleven.’ Such a long, long time.

We went outside the terminal to find a secluded corner.

 

AUGUST CAME
. Mum tried another trick. ‘Bess, I want you to vacuum the house tomorrow. Wash the bathroom floors and clean the showers.’

‘Didn’t the cleaner come yesterday?’ I knew she had.

‘I want the house cleaned twice-weekly. Get it done before ten.’

I felt tired at the prospect of another battle. ‘Mum, I’m not going to do that. The house doesn’t get dirty, Lily’s an excellent cleaner.’

That went down as well as expected. ‘You’d do it without a blink if That Man asked you for a little help. I wonder at you, Bess. I really do. You are utterly lacking in generosity of spirit.’

‘Thank you for that, Mum. Now please go away and let me study.’

That earned me two days of silence, spiced with the cooking of meals she knew I didn’t like. Corned beef that night, and liver on Saturday. But on Sunday to my astonishment, she was back to talking to me again. I discussed it with Dad and Iris, and we figured that it was Gwennie’s rules that were making the difference. Mum also seemed to more or less accept me dining with them a couple of days a week. Nor did she kick up a fuss when I stayed with them for the weekend.

I thought Dad was back to his old self, and Iris too was becoming confident enough about his recovery to relax her dietary regime now and again. A couple of weeks after the liver and corned beef episode, she cooked roast chicken followed by feijoa crumble. ‘It’s a treat for Charlie,’ she said. ‘He’s doing so well that I figure we can push the boat out now and again.’

‘And,’ said Dad, lifting his wine glass in a toast, ‘thanks to that Facebook, we’ve solved the problem of what to do with Bernie.’

I gulped a bigger mouthful of wine than I’d meant to. ‘What? Why? How?’

He laughed. ‘A woman saw the photo of the gate. She rang up right away, asked if she could order one.’

I lifted my glass to him. ‘That’s wicked, Dad. He’s pleased?’

Iris said, ‘Pleased? He’s like a dog with three tails!’

‘It might only be a one-off,’ Dad said. ‘But it’s a start. And Maurice had the idea of putting a sign up.
Bespoke gates and other wood turning. Orders taken
. It’ll be ready next week.’

The three of us sat there grinning at each other.

‘How’s Nick?’ Dad asked then, not quite succeeding in removing traces of anxious father from his voice.

‘He’s good, thanks,’ I said.
Here we go
. ‘I’m going down there next holidays. All holidays.’

His face went red, and he took the deep breath to blast me, but Iris put her hand on his arm. ‘Relax, Charlie. She’s nearly nineteen. She’s a young woman, not your little girl any longer.’

‘Humph,’ said my father. He glared at me, ground his teeth, glared some more and finally just said, ‘Well, I don’t like it and I don’t approve. Can’t stop you, I suppose. But by god, I’d like to lock you up in a convent for the next ten years.’

I caught Iris’s eye and we struggled not to laugh.

A week later, I found Dad immersed in worry, just like he’d been before he got sick.
Oh god, surely he can’t be that upset about me and Nick?

‘What’s up, Dad?’

‘Nothing’s. Everything’s fine.’ He got out the lawn mower. Cunning. You can’t have a conversation over the noise of a two-stroke motor. I had one with Iris instead.

‘Something’s eating him,’ she said. ‘But will he tell me? Don’t answer that!’

‘Is it Nick?’

‘No. He’s not happy, but he sees he’s got to accept the inevitable. If not Nick, it’ll be some other boy, and at least he knows Nick.’

‘It’s got to be the factory then?’

‘You might get it out of him,’ she said. ‘I’ve tried. Might as well talk to the kitchen sink.’

We had afternoon tea on the table as soon as the mower stopped. Dad came in, all hearty and cheerful.

‘Dad, it’s something with the factory, isn’t it? What’s wrong?’

The good cheer hit the floor. ‘The factory’s fine, I tell you. Stop nagging, girl. I can handle it.’

‘Remind me,’ I said, ‘the partnership. Did it have a use-by date on it, by any chance?’

Iris smiled, but held her peace.

He glared at me for a moment before he gave in. ‘All right! You’ve made your point. Look, somebody’s put in an offer to buy the finishing shed. Wants the land for development, the agent says.’

‘Oh, Dad! That’s awful. What are you going to do?’

He shrugged. ‘Don’t know yet. And before you ask, yes I have told the men. Told them to come up with ideas about what we can do. We’re going to have a pow-wow tomorrow.’

‘Between you all you’ll sort it. Bet you.’

He frowned at me. ‘That’s as may be. We’ve got a hell of a problem on our hands. They’re not so optimis tic, I can tell you.’

‘Sure, Clint won’t be. But Eddy really wants the place to succeed. He’ll bust a gut to keep it going.’

‘You could be right,’ Dad said, looking every bit as gloomy as Clint. ‘But you’re very cheerful these days, my girl. Seeing the world through rose-coloured glasses, that’s you.’

‘And the problem with that would be?’

He was right. The world was a magical place, full of sunshine even in the face of gloomy factory news.