The Paradise Trees (17 page)

Margaret fetched two sherry glasses from the cupboard and sat down at the kitchen table. ‘He was always good at that,’ she agreed. ‘Go on, love.’

Alicia poured two generous glasses of sherry and tore a piece of kitchen paper from the roll to wipe her eyes. ‘Cheers and good health. Apparently Paul’s here for ten days on
business. He’s remarried and his wife’s pregnant. He says he wants proper access to Jenny, if not custody, and oh, Margaret, I don’t know if he does want that or if he’s
just saying it to annoy me. Jen doesn’t know about the custody bit and she’s over the moon, he was nice as pie to her this afternoon, gave her two hundred pounds, would you believe. If
he’s genuine about this it’ll mean a big upset in Jenny’s life, trips to Singapore and so on. And if he’s winding me up then she’s going to get hurt.’

How petty it all sounded when she said it like that. But Margaret obviously understood, she reached over and squeezed Alicia’s hand.

‘Well, lovey, all you can do is be there for Jenny whatever happens,’ she said. ‘Maybe Paul does want to make it up to her after neglecting her all this time. And if he’s
paying for a trip to Singapore for you both, then you should go. A holiday will do you good.’

Alicia lifted her glass and sipped. ‘Oh, I know. It’ll probably work out at one visit, then when his baby’s born he’ll forget all about Jen again. Anyway, tell me about
David and Sheila.’

Margaret smiled. ‘Baby talk all the way. They’ve got a DVD of the last scan, it’s amazing. You can actually count the toes on it.’

Alicia drained her glass and reached for the bottle. It was definitely a two-sherry day. Jenny and Conker were running round the garden, and whoops and barks filled the air. Alicia looked at
Margaret and suddenly they both laughed. It was difficult to stay depressed with Jen around.

‘She’s a real outdoor girl, isn’t she?’ said Margaret.

‘Yes. I’m a bit worried about that,’ said Alicia, getting up to put the soup on. All this sherry was going to her head, she needed food. ‘You know how she’s been
playing princesses in the woods? Well, last time she came back and said she’d been playing with a man who called himself Oberon and gave her chocolate biscuits. She mentioned him before once,
but I thought it was a game. Now she says it’s a secret, won’t tell me who it was. But she said that I know him.’

Margaret looked at Alicia and smiled. ‘She said something about it to me once too. I thought it was just a pretend friend. She must be lonely here. You had a fantasy friend when you were
little, don’t you remember? Children often do.’

Alicia shook her head. As a school nurse, she knew that eight was well past the usual age for fantasy friends. ‘I know, but I don’t think this is imaginary,’ she said.
‘She spoke about a secret once, too, but then we got distracted before I could go into it with her. And the biscuit wrapper today certainly wasn’t pretend. It must be John Watson, I
can’t for the life of me think who else I know here that would play fairy kings in the woods with Jenny.’

Margaret leaned forward and patted her arm. ‘You worry too much, Alicia, you’ll give yourself an ulcer before you’re forty if you go on like this. You could always go and ask
him, but think logically, lovey. I mean this is Lower Banford after all, everyone knows everyone! Either it’s John, and then there’s nothing to worry about, or it’s a pretend
friend, and that’s not anything to worry about either, is it?’

Alicia stared for a moment and then grinned to herself. How true, and bless Margaret for pointing it out so clearly. ‘I suppose not. Thanks, Margaret.’

She was still washing up after dinner when the doorbell rang. Eva next door had offered to take Margaret to St Joe’s and Jenny had gone with them, more for the novelty of squeezing into
the back of Eva’s Smart car than any desire to visit her grandfather, but it meant that Alicia had a whole hour to herself. And now someone was interrupting her peace. She stomped to the
front door.

‘Sonja!’

‘Hello!’ said Sonja, pulling Alicia into an expensively perfumed embrace. ‘Honey, you look like you need a long holiday and from what Frank says you’re not going to get
one anytime soon. This is chilled. Got a couple of glasses?’

She waved two bottles of Féchy. Alicia led her inside. Sonja was still small and plump, but she looked... prosperous, that was it. And happy. And concerned, and oh it was so good to see
her, how on earth had they managed to lose touch for so long?

‘I thought you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow?’

‘Change of plan. John’s Mum’s been given a date for a hip replacement in two weeks, so we’re going straight on up tomorrow to have a bit more time with her before the op.
We’ll be back in August a few days earlier than planned. Alicia, tell me what’s going on here. Frank wouldn’t say anything and I can see it’s something big.’

Alicia poured two glasses of wine and put the remainder in the fridge. It was difficult to know where to start. The child’s voice in her head? The flashbacks? She began to speak, and Sonja
sat listening, the expression on her face changing from gravity to indignation and then anger.

‘Lici, I had no idea. We all just thought your parents were really old-fashioned and strict, and we knew they were into their religion. I don’t think you ever told me about any of
these punishments. I’ve no recollection of giving you a Barbie, even.’

Alicia sighed. ‘I sort of thought you wouldn’t remember much, you were too young,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry, maybe Cathal will. I meant to go online in Merton this
afternoon and see if I could run him down, but Paul put a stop to that.’

‘Why don’t I do it for you? John’s Mum’s your original silver surfer, her broadband is to die for, and it would give me something to do while the kids are out with
Granny.’

Alicia agreed thankfully. Maybe it was true that a problem shared was a problem halved. She certainly felt a lot more positive about her situation here.

‘What did you think of Frank?’ she said, remembering that Sonja had been worried about him.

‘Well in one way he’s a lot better because he has different stuff to think about here, with the house needing to be done up and his new patients and so on. On the other hand I can
tell he’s really tense, there’s something he’s not telling me. Sometimes when you look at him you can see he’s thinking about it. His nerves are still shot to
pieces.’

‘I thought the very first time I saw him here that he was nervous,’ said Alicia. ‘But you know, everyone here likes him, he’s well-respected and he’s fitted right
into the community. Maybe he’s still grieving?’

‘I don’t think so. It’s been over six years, and he never mentions Nell now. It was so terrible, Alicia, what happened. He found her in the garden, she must have gone out to do
something and apparently it was one of those sudden adult death things, like footballers have sometimes. There was a big bash on her head where she’d fallen, and Frank was just kneeling there
with her in his arms when a neighbour found them. Nell was dead and Frank was shaking like a leaf and I was in bloody Vancouver. It took me the best part of three days to get back to England and
you can’t imagine the state he was in.’

Alicia was silent. Life was cruel, no doubt about it. There were no guarantees of tomorrow for any one of them.

Sonja went to get the wine bottle. ‘I was glad when he said he was selling their house, but I still don’t know if coming back here was a good idea,’ she said. ‘But
it’s his life. I just wish he would share a bit more of what’s going on in it.’

‘I’ll keep an eye on him for you while I’m here,’ said Alicia.

They sat there sipping too much Féchy and talking about life after Lower Banford; Alicia felt her world go fuzzy at the edges. Margaret and Jenny came back, and Margaret made them garlic
bread to mop up the wine. It was nearly midnight when Alicia took Conker and walked Sonja round the village to Frank’s home.

‘See you in two weeks or so,’ she said, giggling as her friend wobbled towards the front door on her elegant Parisian heels.

The village street was deserted as she walked back. Only the one dim streetlight lit the lane, and the woods were pitch black. But tomorrow the sun would shine again, and maybe Sonja would soon
find Cathal. But what if Cathal didn’t remember anything either?

The Stranger

It was time to start the serious organisation. He stood in his bedroom, looking down at the items set out there, ready for Saturday. It was difficult not to gloat, that throw
was absolutely perfect. And the cord would make sure his little angel stayed put, though of course the medication he had ready would help with that too. The cord was just a precaution. He would
need a white coat, to make him less conspicuous at St. Joe’s, but that wouldn’t be a problem. Now he should plan exactly what to do with big Helen, when the news of her
daughter’s... disappearance came to her.

And really, there wasn’t much to plan. A shoulder to cry on was all she’d need. He would arrange that the two of them had some quality time before the event, just to ensure that his
would be the shoulder she’d turn to first.

So an invitation was needed. He would ask her for a coffee or dinner or even a walk next time they met... a walk in the woods. How ironic that would be.

He smiled. He would ask and she would say yes. And it was all going to be quite, quite wonderful. Big Helen had no idea what was about to happen to her.

Alicia

‘Okay, Louise, I’ll hear from you next week, then.’ Alicia, leaning against the telephone table in the hallway, frowned as Jenny and Conker crashed through
the front door and headed for the kitchen.

She replaced the receiver and strode after them, fully intending to read the riot act to her daughter about banging around the place while other people were making important phone calls whilst
still suffering the effects of drinking way too much wine the night before. But only Margaret was there, placidly washing lettuce. Alicia could see Jenny and Conker racing round the summerhouse
outside. She grinned in spite of her headache and sat down.

‘If I dashed about like that I’d be half dead by ten in the morning.’

‘It’s the energy of childhood. They should bottle it,’ said Margaret, glancing out of the window. ‘What did your lawyer friend have to say?’

‘Quite a lot. She’s going to investigate for me about alimony. Paul seems to be doing quite well for himself now so she doesn’t see why he should get away with not paying
anything back. And she said he definitely wouldn’t get custody of Jen in Singapore and 99.9% sure not here either, in spite of the ‘stable family’ he has to offer. He might well
get visitation rights, though, so she advises me to be cooperative about that if he wants to see her again.’

‘Good. That sounds like more or less what you wanted to hear,’ said Margaret. She spun the lettuce briskly. ‘I’d like to spend the afternoon with Bob, lovey, how about
you?’

Alicia only just managed not to pull a face. ‘Not today. But I’ll run you to St. Joe’s, and then we’ll collect you later, how’s that?’

She noticed the vulnerable expression in Margaret’s eyes and felt guilty all over again. Her aunt had so wanted to maintain the status quo here at home, but St Joe’s
was
the
best place for a dependent stroke patient. It was time for Margaret to get used to the new situation. The big change had happened, and they could enjoy a few weeks’ breathing space while they
decided what to do with this place. Would Margaret want to stay on here, or move closer to David and Sheila? Somewhere in between might be best. Then they could sell the house, and what a blessing
that would be.

Slowly, Alicia felt something like peace settle over her. Everything was sorted, she could let the past go now. As soon as the thought entered her head the child’s voice did too, screaming
in terror.

Let go! I hate you!

Alicia jumped up, shivering. That was a memory now, not a flashback, she could actually remember screaming that loud. He’d been dragging her inside from the garden, and she’d been
younger than Jenny was now. But why? What had happened? The little voice had been full of hatred. Alicia the child had hated her father as much as Alicia the teenager had, but Alicia the adult
couldn’t remember the details. She would have to find out more, and this might be a good opportunity to ask her aunt about it. She took a deep breath.

‘Margaret – this is going to sound odd and please don’t be upset, but – do you know if um, Bob, um, hurt me at all when I was a kid? To punish me? Ever since we came here
I’ve been having this sort of nightmare and I’m not sure if it’s something that really happened or not.’

Margaret was rummaging for salad tongs. She turned and stared at Alicia for a moment, leaning against the worktop.

‘Oh Alicia love. I know he was always very strict about his principles; you didn’t have an easy time. He used to smack you, yes, but I’m sure it was nothing more than other
youngsters experienced back then. I’ve known him since the day he was born and I can’t imagine he was ever cruel.’

Alicia was silent. He had been cruel. Look at what he’d done on her fifth birthday, all because she’d been given a Barbie doll.

‘What about Mum?’

Margaret was clearly ill at ease. ‘Well, I think she left most of the discipline to Bob, that was their way of bringing you up,’ she said. ‘But Alicia, love, don’t worry.
They were very adamant in their beliefs, let’s say. But I’m sure they were doing what they honestly believed was best for you. I always felt their faith was very restrictive, but no-one
can say that any one religion is better or worse than another.’

Alicia looked into her aunt’s worried face and nodded. ‘Okay. Thanks, Margaret,’ she said slowly. It was no use asking further questions, Margaret didn’t
know
the answers, she was just saying what she believed. What she wanted to believe.

Was there any point in raking it all up now, when her father could no longer be held responsible for his actions? He
was
demented, even though there were still these odd moments when he
looked straight at her and laughed. Maybe they weren’t quite moments of clarity but he did seem aware of who she was and that she hated him. But they never would find out how much he really
understood. She couldn’t prosecute him now even if she wanted to.