Pathway to Tomorrow (5 page)

Flicking the teabag into the sink she walked across to the fridge for some milk.  As she did so she noticed Izzie’s shoulders were shaking.

Milk forgotten, she stopped by her sister’s chair.  “You’re crying.”

“Only because I’m happy.”

Noticing the pile of scrunched up tissues on the table for the first time, Jodie frowned.

“Want to tell me about it?”

“Mmm…yes…I guess so,” Izzie wriggled around in her chair. Then she pulled up her feet, wrapped her arms around her concertinaed legs and pressed her forehead into her knees.

Jodie’s heart sank.  This was Izzie’s I know I’m in trouble pose.  It was something she’d done often when she was younger, a sort of ‘head in the sand’ action so she didn’t have to look at Jodie.  It was also something she hadn’t done for a very long time. Jodie pulled out the chair opposite and lowered herself into it.

“I’m not going to like this am I?”

“Probably not,” her reply was muffled.  Then, while Jodie’s mind was still flashing through a whole litany of negative scenarios, she lifted her head, squared her shoulders, and looked her in the eye.

“Marcus Lewis is going to give me music lessons,” she said.

She may as well have said she was flying to the moon as far as Jodie was concerned.

“What do you mean, he’s giving you music lessons?  You haven’t even met him.”

“I have.  I visited him this afternoon.  I climbed the gate, just like you did,” she added defiantly.

Noticing the smudges of mascara and the remnants of lipstick on her tearstained face, Jodie jerked forward and pulled down the neck of her sister’s sweater.  Beneath it she was wearing a sequined halter-top that showed more than it covered. It had been a bone of contention between them ever since she had found it in a charity shop and paired it with an equally miniscule skirt that showed off her long legs to perfection and left little else to the imagination.

“What exactly have you been up to?” she demanded.

The eager expression on Izzie’s face changed to a sullen frown. “I knew you’d be like this.”

Jodie sat back with a sigh. “What did you expect? That I’d be delighted to learn you’ve visited a man old enough to be your father, in his trailer? Whatever were you thinking of? He might have taken advantage of you. Celebrities like him are used to fans throwing themselves at them.”

“He didn’t though,” Izzie’s voice was small as she fingered the sweater. “He said I had to put this on and then he made me sit on the trailer steps with the door wide open. He said he wanted anyone passing by to be able to see me while we talked.  He said he didn’t want people thinking he let young girls visit his trailer on their own.”

Then she grinned.  “Only thing was, he forgot about the gate and the trespass sign.  There weren’t any
passersby. There never will be any passersby.”

Jodie stared at her. Then she smiled as relief washed over her. That it was about more than her sister’s safety was something she didn’t want to think about.

Izzie gave her a pleading look. “I can go can’t I? Only he said he wouldn’t give me lessons unless you said he could.  He said to tell you to visit him and talk about it.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” Jodie was surprised by the curl of warmth that coursed through her at the thought of meeting him again.  “Well I suppose talking about it can’t do any harm, so yes, I’ll go and talk to him, even if it’s just to apologize for the fact you turned up dressed to impress!”

Like a ray of sunshine coming out, Izzie’s face lit up. Her tear-washed eyes sparkled as she tumbled out of her chair and threw herself at Jodie in a tangle of arms and legs. Hugging her tightly she could feel the sharp bones of her ribs through the thick sweater. Her sister might be almost a head taller than her now. She might be difficult sometimes. But she was still the person she loved best in the world.

It was a thought that sometimes made her heart ache in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep. If it was this painful bringing up a sister, trying to get her safely through childhood and into adulthood, then she didn’t think her batte
red heart would ever be able to cope with caring for children of her own.

Chapter Eight

When he heard the gate rattle Marcus poked his head out of the trailer door.

“It’s not locked,” he called.

Startled by his voice, Jodie looked up, teetered on
the top bar, and then tumbled down onto the driveway.

With a muttered exclamation he jumped down the steps and ran over to where she lay sprawled on the ground.

“Are you okay?” he asked, putting his hand out to pull her up.

Ignoring it, she stood up in one lithe movement and rescued her riding hat from where it had rolled across the path.

Marcus found himself openly staring at her hair.  Until now it had always been tucked up out of sight, and despite wondering what color it was, he hadn’t given it much thought. If anyone had asked him he would have guessed dark brown to match the bitter chocolate of her eyes, but he would never have imagined this.  Black, and glossy as a raven’s wing, it hung in a thick plait that reached down to her waist, and he wanted to touch it.

Hurriedly averting his eyes he forced himself to speak.  “Are you sure you haven’t hurt yourself?”

“I’m fine. If you ride horses you get used to falling. I rolled. How was I meant to know the gate was unlocked though?”

He pointed as he unlatched it so she could lead her horse through.  “No padlock, plus you could have called to let me know you were coming. I gave your sister my cell number.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I was passing. Why the change of heart?”

“It’s just a short term thing.  I decided it wasn’t doing a very good job keeping out unwanted visitors.”

She looked slightly shamefaced. “I guess you mean Izzie and me.”

He smiled down at her.  “No harm done. I’m sorry I was so scratchy last time you were here. Come on in and have a coffee and let’s see if we can start over.”

“Maybe it would be better if I sat on the trailer steps,” she said with the trace of a wicked smile.

He laughed.  “I’ll risk my reputation if you will.”

She followed him into the trailer and sat on the couch. “Izzie isn’t usually so stupid.  I think she thought it would impress you if she turned up looking like her version of a celebrity. Oh I nearly forgot; you sweater is in Buckmaster’s saddlebag.  I’ll go fetch it.”

She started to get up again.

He caught her arm. “Give it to me later.  There’s no rush.”

Then they both tried to pretend the physical contact meant nothing; that a spark of electricity hadn’t just travelled down his arm and into hers. After a long moment he moved away and busied himself with mugs and coffee. When he turned back to her she didn’t quite meet his eyes as she began to question him.

“What did Izzie say to you?”

“Mostly that she wants me to teach her stage craft.  She says she has a fantastic voice.”

She gave a wry smile.  He could see she was deciding what to say to him. She sat forward once she’d made up her mind.

“Did she tell you our mother died?”

He nodded.

“Did she tell you she was a singer too?”

“No, she didn’t. She spent more time telling me why she needed to sing than filling me in on family stuff.”

He could see the relief in her eyes when he told her that. It wasn’t strictly true of course, but true enough. He’d only gotten an outline from her sister, something about an accident and how Jodie had brought her up ever since.

“She did tell me you’re her guardian though, and she said she’d be in trouble once you knew she’d been here.”

Jodie
gave a grim nod. “She got that right! The thing is, Izzie’s just like my mother.  She was very beautiful and very talented too, but she was impulsive as well, and…and it destroyed her.”

“And you’re frightened the same thing will happen to your sister if she becomes a singer.”

“Yes.”

He waited.

“It’s complicated.  Izzie was in a car with her when it crashed. She saw her die. By then it was just the two of them because Izzie’s father was dead and my mother’s new boyfriend had abandoned them. I’d abandoned them too. I was working on the other side of the country and I was so caught up in my own life I hardly ever contacted them, so it was hours before anyone could track me down.”

“By the time I reached the hospital Izzie was a complete basket case.  She wouldn’t speak or eat. She fought the nurses and doctors every time they touched her, so they had to sedate her most of the time. It was terrible. Fortunately she doesn’t remember much about it but it doesn’t mean it’s gone away. She’s nervy, and she’s highly-strung. She doesn’t sleep well.  She can’t sleep at all unless I’m close by. I’m already worried about how she’ll cope when she goes away to university, so you see there’s no way she’ll ever be able to lead the life of a professional singer, however much she thinks she wants to.”

She stopped suddenly, as if she had run out of steam.  He could see from the turmoil in her eyes she had given him an edited version of something she rarely spoke about.

“You must have been very young when all this happened,” he said gently.

She gave a tired smile.  “I was the same age Izzie is now. It’s something she keeps bringing up every time I ask her to concentrate on her schoolwork and forget about her singing.”

“That must have been tough.  Was there no one else?”

“Nobody. But we got by. We’re still getting by despite the teenage hormones because underneath it all she’s a good kid.”

He frowned. Although there was probably not much more than ten years between them, she seemed decades older than her sister.  He wondered what she’d had to give up to come home. He wanted to ask her but he sensed the subject was closed.  She’d told him what she thought he needed to know and now she wanted to talk about something else. He couldn’t resist a final comment though. It was the same one he’d made to Izzie.

“You don’t look much alike.“

“Different fathers is all,” she shrugged as she repeated word for word what her sister had already told him. “Izzie’s Dad, my stepfather, had Swedish ancestry from way back, so he was tall with blue eyes and fair hair. My father was short and dark apparently, not that I ever saw him.”

“What happened?”

“He died before I was born.” 

He stirred his coffee thoughtfully.  “Why didn’t you tell the newspapers about Luke?”

She stared at him, thrown by the change of subject.  “Why would I?”

“Because I won’t open up the bridleway. It wasn’t until after I told you about him that it occurred to me you might use it to get your own back.”

“Not when you told me in confidence, I wouldn’t. Anyway it’s not Luke’s battle is it, even though the newspapers would try to pretend it is? If they ever got hold of the story they’d hang around all the time trying to get pictures of him and that wouldn’t help anyone, least of all me.” 

He took a long drink of coffee as he struggled to come to terms with the sudden rush of gratitude that washed over him.  He wasn’t used to people being discreet or worrying about what was right or wrong. In his experience people usually just wanted to make money out of him.

“Thanks Jodie. I owe you.”

“You really don’t; but if you want to make Izzie happy, then listen to her sing.”

“I will if that’s what you want,” he said. “But I don’t want it to cause grief between the two of you.”

“It won’t do that. Refusing to let her do it would be what would destroy us. So against my better judgment, I’m saying yes.”

“Do you want to come too? As chaperone.”

She laughed and shook her head as she stood up. “I’ll just make sure she wears suitable clothes and you can leave the door open to protect your reputation. Remember what I’ve told you about her problems though and don’t raise her hopes too high. I don’t want her to abandon her plans for university. If you really want to do me a favor then tell her a singing career is a really bad idea.”

Instead of answering he scribbled something on a scrap of paper.  “Here’s my cell number. Tell her to call me.  After I’ve listened to her I’ll talk to you before I make any promises. That’s if she’s good enough of course.”

“Oh she’ll be good enough. She was right about that if nothing else.” She twisted her plait up onto the top of her head and jammed her riding hat back on as she stood up.

He followed her to the door, grabbing an apple from a bowl of fruit on the way out.  “I’ll open the gate for you.”

Buckmaster whickered as she walked up to him. She rubbed his nose.  Then she reached into his saddlebag, pulled out the sweater, and handed it to Marcus.

He took it from her and then offered Buckmaster the apple.  The chestnut gelding’s response was so delicate that if he hadn’t been watching he wouldn’t have felt him take it from his outstretched palm.

“Hey, a new friend Bucky!”  She put her foot into the stirrup and swung herself onto the horse’s back.