Summer of Love (18 page)

‘I don’t reckon you are fine,’ said Gus. ‘Come on, Rory, mate, let’s get some wood. Your mum needs a cup of tea.’

‘The thing to do,’ said Gus when they’d reached a suitable collection point, ‘is to look up. Look for dead branches that haven’t fallen on the ground yet.’

‘OK,’ Sian and Rory chorused.

‘And if you want to check if a bit of wood is damp or not, put it to your lip.’ He said this with a provocative grin, as if he thought Sian would die before putting a bit of stick to her mouth.

‘That’s cool,’ she said, pleased to feel a bit annoyed by Gus rather than thoroughly upset by Luella.

‘OK, you guys know what you’re doing?’ said Gus. ‘I’ve got to sprint back to the Landy to get some kit. Back in a mo’.’

Sian watched him lope off and saw there was something a bit odd about his run. He’d talked of injuring his leg. It must have been quite serious.

Gus was back with them quite quickly and began sorting through the pile of sticks Sian and Rory had gathered in what Sian considered to be a rather brutal way.

‘If it doesn’t snap easily it’s probably too damp. It’s vital to prepare properly or it’ll just smoke and we’ll look like idiots. We want your mum to get her cup of tea, don’t we, Rory?’

‘Ladies like tea,’ said Rory. ‘All my friends’ mums drink it a lot. When they’re not drinking wine.’

‘Rory!’ Sian yelped in horror. ‘It’s not like that. We only drink wine when we’re having a sleepover or people are taking a taxi home. And it was Luella who was so desperate for boiling water.’

Gus carried on snapping twigs, ignoring her protest. The ones he liked he put into a plastic carrier bag, which was part of the kit he had brought from the Land-Rover. The rest was hidden in a green sack.

‘I hope you’ve got some matches and maybe some firelighters in there,’ Sian said warily. ‘I don’t want my tea depending on your ability to rub sticks together to light the fire.’

‘Of course I can make a fire like that – sort of – but we don’t need to do it today.’

Rory dropped another bundle of sticks. ‘Can you really make fire by rubbing sticks together?’

‘It’s a little more complicated than that, but basically, yes.’

‘I’d love to see,’ said Rory excitedly.

‘I’ll show you,’ Gus promised, his face mirroring Rory’s enthusiasm. ‘One day soon we’ll build a shelter, sleep in it, and cook our breakfast over a fire. If your mum agrees.’

A million thoughts flashed through Sian’s mind. ‘Well, maybe you wouldn’t like to sleep in the shelter, Rory,’ she said carefully. ‘But if Gus can build one you could play in it.’

Gus was disdainful now. ‘Madam, I’ll have you know that the shelters I build are not for playing in!’

‘Oh no?’ Sian grinned at him. She found she was enjoying herself despite the day’s anxieties. ‘I think you’ll find they are.’ Rory, bored by this adult banter, ran off for more sticks. ‘And while it’s a lovely offer, I’m not sure Rory would really like to sleep out. He’d probably miss his bed and teddy and have to come in. You know what kids are like. Well – I mean—’

‘I do remember camping out in the garden and getting scared in the night and running inside,’ said Gus, helping her out.

‘So you understand.’

‘I think Rory would be fine if you slept in the shelter as well. We’ll make a two-man one and Rory can sleep between us. For propriety’s sake.’

Thank goodness the light was dim under the trees: he might not notice her blushing. She would have to train her mind not to continually rerun the time they had spent together: it was too unsettling. She had to admit, though, he was very easy to be with. She couldn’t imagine Richard grubbing about in the woods. But that wasn’t fair. Richard had many other good qualities; she was just having trouble remembering them right at this moment.

‘OK, guys? Got enough fuel to make the ladies their cuppa?’

‘Think so,’ said Sian. ‘There seems loads.’

‘Let’s go then.’

They returned to the picnic site with their burdens. Gus swung a backpack off his back on to the ground. ‘Now, what have we got here?’

Rory peered in. ‘Lots of things.’

‘Why don’t you unpack it for me, mate?’

Rory put in a hand and retrieved a billy can. Then there was a tightly bound pack of waterproof material.

‘That’s my tarp,’ said Gus. ‘Compass,’ he went on as Rory continued to unpack. ‘First-aid kit. Head torch. Whistle. Can you test that one for us? Just give it a quick blow.’ Rory obliged.

‘Have you got everything you need to go hiking in there?’ asked Luella, flinching as the whistle pierced the air.

Gus shook his head. ‘Not really. I didn’t bring my sleeping bag or my tent.’

‘No knives?’ asked Fiona, possibly speaking for all the women.

Gus shook his head. ‘No. That’s in my belt.’ He grinned. ‘I didn’t bring an axe. That might be a mistake.’

Although he did mutter about the lack of his axe, Gus seemed to manage just fine without it. Surrounded by a growing crowd of people, he lined up dry sticks and crisscrossed kindling on top.

‘Right, pass me the thermos with the hot water and we’ll make it really boil. We could have filled the billy from a stream and passed the water through a cloth but I reckon the ladies are getting impatient,’ said Gus, when he’d constructed his fire.

‘I’d just stuff some newspaper under there and set fire to it,’ said Sian, amazed at how much trouble Gus was taking. He was such an active person; to be taking such pains over a task seemed out of character. That and being a natural teacher. Rory was captivated. In fact they were all watching him in fascination, concentrating hard as if they were going to be asked to repeat the exercise themselves shortly afterwards.

‘Newspaper would certainly work, but it’s more fun to do it properly. I want to show Rory how to light a fire without matches.’

Eventually he reached into a pouch that was hanging from his neck. From it he produced a little cotton sack. ‘Tinder,’ he explained, withdrawing something white and fluffy. ‘The cheating kind.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Rory, sounding disappointed.

‘When we go camping we’ll do it with wild plants, but this is a quick way to make fire when your mum wants a cup of tea.’

Gus and Rory lay on their stomachs. Gus had a bundle of hay that he’d retrieved from his pack. ‘This is really dry, Rory, mate. Now we’re putting in this bit of very finely teased cotton wool – I stole one of my mum’s cleansing pads but don’t tell her.’

‘I think she knows,’ said Rory, who’d checked.

‘Now, I’m going to make some very hot sparks with this.’ He scraped a piece of metal against a column he’d produced from round his neck. A shower of silver sparks shot out, caught light to the cotton wool and then the hay. He picked up the bundle and dropped it on to the fine kindling where there was more hay. Soon the whole lot was crackling brightly.

‘Not quite the orthodox way of doing it,’ said Gus, adding some thicker sticks, ‘but it’ll get the billy boiling.’

‘Oh,’ said Veronica Lewis-Jones appearing a little while later. ‘Was there something wrong with the water in the flasks?’

Everyone except Gus and Rory felt terribly guilty. ‘It’s just Gus showing off, I’m afraid,’ said Fiona. ‘He wanted to show Rory how to make a fire and boil a billy. Do have some of the tea. It’s delicious.’

‘Even if we did have to tear up the tea bags in order to put the leaves in the billy,’ said Sian.

‘Couldn’t you have just put a tea bag in a cup?’ asked Veronica, looking genuinely confused.

‘That wouldn’t be proper billy-can tea,’ said Gus. ‘You need that burn-your-mouth-off effect. And of course you wouldn’t have had tea bags in the old days.’

‘Well, do make sure there’s no trace of the fire,’ Veronica continued disapprovingly. ‘We’re not supposed to have them.’

‘I promise you, no one will know,’ Gus replied with a grin that seemed to win her over.

Gus showed Rory how to gather up every scrap of unburnt wood, to pour water on the place where the fire had been until the ground was cool, even when you dug down into it, and was just showing him how to put earth over the scorch mark when Luella said, ‘Who wants an ice cream?’

Both male heads turned in her direction and Sian felt pole-axed. Although one was fair and the other dark, their expressions were identical. Then she caught sight of Fiona and she went icy cold and then burning hot; she had seen it too. It was written all over her face. Fiona knew that her son Angus was Rory’s father.

Sian stood up quickly, knocking over her cup of tea and stumbling in the process. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Veronica, I …’ She realised she was mumbling, trying to look anywhere but at Fiona. ‘I think it’s time we were getting home, Rory,’ she managed to finish, feeling horribly weak and panicky.

‘Yes indeed,’ agreed Fiona briskly, standing up too. ‘Rory, if you want ice cream we have some at my house.’

‘No, really, Fiona,’ said Sian in embarrassment, desperate to escape the situation, ‘you don’t need to leave on our account, I’m sure we can get a lift to—’

‘Not at all. It’s not remotely a problem.’ Fiona smiled, but beneath the smile there was a determination that made Sian shiver. ‘I wouldn’t have it any other way.’

Chapter Twelve

Fiona glanced in her mirror to see if Rory looked like going to sleep. She wanted to talk to Sian, to check she was right in her suspicions, but Rory was resolutely awake, allowing no time for discussion. Sian sat beside her looking tired and a bit pale.

‘So did you enjoy yourself, Rory?’ said Fiona cheerfully.

‘I liked the fire but I didn’t ride a pony,’ he replied after careful consideration.

‘Oh, we can arrange that for you another time,’ said Fiona. ‘That would be easy.’

‘Would it?’ said Sian. ‘I keep meaning to check out a riding stables and give him a trial lesson.’

‘I’m sure Melissa will know someone to do with the Pony Club who’d be only too happy to let you have a go,’ said Fiona, keeping things light. She was pretty sure that Sian had guessed she suspected Gus was Rory’s father, but until they had a moment alone she didn’t want any awkwardness, not in front of Rory. ‘She owes you, after all,’ she went on. ‘Fancy bringing Luella to the picnic like that and getting her to say she’ll sell! And I can’t believe Luella didn’t tell me she was coming over.’

Sian sighed deeply. ‘It was a bombshell.’

‘What’s a bombshell?’ asked Rory from his car seat.

‘It’s when something’s a big surprise,’ said Sian.

Like discovering you’ve got a grandson, thought Fiona. ‘This isn’t anything you need to think about,’ she said out loud.

‘Oh. OK,’ said Rory, and turned his head towards the window.

Fiona’s own bombshell flooded her mind with questions. Do I love Rory more now than I did before, now I know there’s a blood tie? And how do I feel about Sian? She’s a lovely woman but she kept a grandchild from me for nearly five years. Although, Fiona reasoned a moment later, she didn’t know anything about me then. She wouldn’t have known that until Angus appeared at the dinner party. What an utter shock that must have been! No wonder she’s seemed a bit distracted lately. You bring up a child on your own all that time and then the father, who presumably you thought you’d never see again, turns out to be the son of your friend next door; a father and a grandmother for your son in one hit. Such a weird coincidence.

But was it really a coincidence? She came down here because of Richard, and Angus and Richard had known each other for years. Maybe she thought she might see Angus again through Richard? Maybe it was a plan?

Fiona turned on to the main road with relief. Soon they’d be home and she’d find out if Sian was manipulative or just strangely lucky – or unlucky. She glanced at her friend again. No, not manipulative. It hadn’t occurred to her that she might meet Angus again, that much was clear from her reaction at the dinner and she’d obviously had no inkling that her new friend and neighbour was the mother of her ex-lover.

It was a relief to know that. Fiona had grown really fond of Sian, she might even say she loved her. She didn’t want to think that their friendship had some hidden agenda. Sian would have to tell Angus now though. It would be wrong not to.

‘Fiona.’ Sian interrupted her musing. ‘I know we said we were going back to yours, but would you mind coming to mine instead? Then if Rory gets tired I can put him to bed.’ Sian figured that if she was going to have an awkward conversation, it might as well be on home ground.

‘Fine,’ said Fiona, ‘but have you got ice cream?’

‘I have. Also wine and nibbles. I could even knock us up a quick pasta and salad if we want it.’

‘I don’t think I’ll ever need to eat again!’ Fiona replied with a sigh.

Later, when she’d settled Rory at the table with a bowl of ice cream and two wafers, Sian asked, ‘Where will Gus be? At home getting himself something to eat?’

‘I’ve just spoken to him on his mobile. He’s got to take Luella back to her hotel and then he muttered something about taking Melissa out for a drink.’ Fiona looked at Sian, feeling apologetic and then cross with herself. Her son had every right to go out drinking with whomever he liked. ‘They are free agents.’

‘Of course,’ said Sian looking stung. ‘I just wondered. Now, what would we like, apart from a very big drink?’