It was just after eleven when Josh arrived the following morning, so he was hardly late at all, Vivi noted as she watched him getting out of his Land Rover. She guessed Michelle had told him that Gina didn’t like her sick daughter to be alone for long in case something happened, so perhaps that was the reason for his arrival only ten minutes after her mother had left for The Salon.
She was standing at the front door ready to greet him as he came across the drive towards her. Though she was ludicrously pleased to see him, a part of her was nervous, anxious even, and yet she also felt calm and confident in a way she hadn’t expected, certainly not for a first date, if that was what this was.
He wore his smile as unselfconsciously as the faded jeans and old grey polo he’d no doubt had for years, and as he came closer she felt the magnetism of him already reaching her. She wondered if he had that effect on everyone, or if it was just her.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked, holding her eyes in a way that dispensed with the need for a handshake, or a friendly kiss on the cheek. It was an embrace all of its own.
‘I’m fine,’ she assured him, and stood aside for him to come in.
She showed him through to her room, feeling thankful that the bed was no longer there like a relic from Miss Havisham’s world. ‘I made some coffee,’ she said, gesturing towards the tray on the table.
He went to the open front window, taking in the view and the gentle sea air, dampened by a drift of fine rain. She could feel the masculinity of him in this essentially feminine room, was aware of the hard muscles of his arms and back that filled out his shirt, the length of his legs, the dark hair that curled over his collar. Then he turned and regarded the tray she’d set out, and seemed puzzled for a moment. ‘What are you having?’ he asked, apparently registering the single mug.
Gesturing to the white china pitcher, she said, ‘Iced tea. Strawberry flavour. I don’t do much caffeine these days. You’re welcome to join me.’
His eyes returned to hers, and the irony in his smile sent her gently to the stars. ‘I’ll have a manly coffee,’ he quipped. ‘Black, no sugar.’
Embarrassing herself, she said, ‘I might have some manly biscuits to go with it.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘What are manly biscuits?’
‘Jammie Dodgers,’ she said cautiously, and loved it when he laughed. ‘Seriously, I have some digestives. Or I might be able to rustle up a Hobnob or two.’
‘Digestives,’ he decided, and to her surprise he came to tilt her face up to the light. The feel of his fingers on her chin was as unsettling as the curiosity in his eyes. He nodded and said, ‘Yep, I was right. They’re the colour of African violets.’ Before she could comment that his eyes were also blue, though darker, he let her go and looked around the room. ‘Sam told me he’d recreated your London apartment,’ he said. ‘You have great taste, in that it chimes with my own, I guess. That’s the only way we judge these things, isn’t it? Would you like me to pour, or just to stop talking?’
Smiling, she said, ‘No, please don’t stop. If you do I’ll have to speak and I’m not sure what I want to say.’
Clearly amused, he sat down in the armchair and took the coffee she handed him. ‘Am I allowed to say that I’ve never met anyone like you before?’ he ventured.
Thrown, she almost replied, You mean someone who’s dying? Stopping herself in time, she said, ‘I’m not sure whether to ask you to explain that.’
He took a sip of coffee. ‘What I should probably have said is that I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you before. It’s hard to be sure when we don’t really know one another, but I do know that I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since the other night – and I’ve come to see you at eleven o’clock on a workday morning, abandoning all other commitments.’
Though his words were wonderful to hear, so honest and free of the usual games and reticence of first meetings, her eyes widened with as much concern as amusement. ‘What are you supposed to be doing?’ she probed.
‘Treating sick animals. However, I have to admit, if I had an emergency I’d be there. Sorry if that sounds …’
‘It sounds right,’ she interrupted.
‘Are you an animal lover?’
‘What’s not to love? Although I have to admit I don’t know much about them.’
He pondered this. ‘I guess I don’t know your world either.’
Deciding he was referring to her life in London, she said, ‘This is my world now, quite different to the one I was used to.’
The interest in his eyes seemed to intensify, and after a moment he surprised her as he said, ‘Are you afraid?’
Her first instinct was to pull back from the question, try to make light of her feelings, but she could see that he was expecting a truthful answer, and she realized she wanted to give it. ‘Yes,’ she admitted, ‘I’m afraid, especially when my device kicks in. It’s like it’s saying, don’t get too carried away, Vivienne, you haven’t got what it takes to see it through, whatever it might be.’
He sat with those words, and she knew he’d heard the subtext she hadn’t intentionally included, and was assessing it. ‘Tell me what gets you carried away,’ he said, making it both a tease and a serious question. ‘It would be good to know, so I don’t get us into any trouble.’
Enjoying the ‘us’ as much as the banter, she said, ‘If I feel it happening, I’ll be sure to let you know. Now, you promised me, the last time we met, that you’d tell me about Deerwood.’
He looked disappointed, but also curious. ‘You mean you haven’t Googled it since then? I thought everyone Googled everything right away these days.’
‘Do you?’
He laughed. ‘No, I guess not.’
‘I didn’t look it up,’ she told him, ‘because I wanted to hear about it from you.’ This was true, but not only because she hadn’t wanted to go on a voyeuristic – or perhaps masochistic – journey into a world that she’d been trying to tell herself she could never be a part of. She’d remembered how her mother hadn’t wanted to buy fruit there, and though Gina’s behaviour that day might have had nothing at all to do with the farm, Vivi simply hadn’t wanted to connect with anything negative about it.
She still didn’t.
He said, ‘I didn’t Google you either.’
She had to laugh. ‘Because Michelle and Sam had already told you about me,’ she pointed out.
‘I have to admit it.’
‘Which makes me wonder why you’re here. However, let’s please not get into that. I really, truly, want to know about Deerwood.’
An hour later he was stretched out in a lazy way in the armchair, having finished two coffees and several biscuits, and was seeming as comfortable as if he were here every day. ‘So now,’ he said, with a luxurious yawn, ‘having gone from eight residents when the project started fifteen years ago, we’re up to around thirty at the last count and if I know my sisters, it won’t stop there.’
Loving everything she’d heard so far about his sisters, his mother, grandparents, aunt and uncle, indeed everything that made up a family and existence so different from her own, she said, ‘OK, let me get this straight. Your mother oversees everything, but she’s mainly involved with the farm. As is your uncle Nate. Your sister Hanna runs the social integration – or residency – programme; your other sister, Zoe, organizes the health and fitness side of things. Your grandfather is – what did you call him? An organic engineer?’
He laughed. ‘His words. He thinks it’s witty. What he really is, is a brilliant gardener, but he’s in his eighties now – really good for his age, it has to be said – and with half a dozen sizeable greenhouses to take care of, God knows how many raised vegetable beds and a whole orchard of fruit trees, he’s quite happy to take all the help he can get. In reality, my cousin, Perry, runs the organic farming, and the kids – residents – do most of the hard labour. As do the university students who keep turning up for work experience or just for the fun of it, as far as I can tell. They come from all over, pitch their tents in one of the fields, or camp out on the floors of the residents’ blocks if it’s cold or wet, and they actually add a whole other dimension to the experience for the kids who’ve spent most of their lives in care.’
Entranced by the thought of all that unusual activity and invaluable interaction, Vivi said, ‘What sort of other dimension?’
He measured it for a moment. ‘Well, to begin with a lot of the students bring music with them and that’s a tremendous bonus to any education – at least in my opinion. Everyone joins in the campfire singalongs, even the shyest or most aggressive amongst them, and we’ve had quite a few kids leave us able to play the guitar, or the recorder, or even a cello, one year. Someone local came in to coach him when he showed real talent. The kids, both privileged and challenged, often bond in a way that they probably wouldn’t even come close to in the wider world. There are no class barriers at Deerwood. There’s just the work and the learning and the gradual understanding of who they are, where they’ve come from and, to an extent, where they hope to go next.’
‘It sounds wonderful,’ she murmured. No wonder he loved it so much, she was thinking, it hardly seemed possible not to.
His voice dipped into irony as he said, ‘That’s definitely how Hanna would like to paint it, as wonderful, even idyllic, but I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear that it has its problems. There have been times when we’ve had to call the police to break up fights, or to help remove someone who’s threatening to burn the place down, or blow us all up. Drugs are a constant challenge, but Hanna and her team mostly manage to stay on top of it. The hopeless cases have to go, unfortunately – Deerwood isn’t a rehab centre – so they’re sent to places better equipped to deal with them. I won’t get into the couple of suicides we’ve had, or the attempted murder, but they’ve happened too. It’s never a dull moment on our farm, that’s for sure.’
Aware of starting to feel breathless, Vivi made herself push past it and said, ‘So what exactly do you do in all this?’ Her breathing would sort itself out in a minute or two, it usually did.
Watching her, he slid down to the floor and rested his elbows on his knees, his hands linked loosely together. ‘I just muck in where it’s needed,’ he replied, seeming more focused on her than his words. ‘I think I told you I have a surgery and office there, so I take on any of the kids who show an interest in animals. This can range from nature night watches – they’re always popular for some reason. Interesting, isn’t it, how kids love going out on an adventure at night? I always did when I was young. Some of our residents have never even been to the countryside before they come to us, so identifying birds and their calls, following tracks, or rescuing something that’s injured seems to fascinate them. I could get into all sorts of parallels here, but I’ll spare myself the embarrassment and just say that there are certain similarities between their own lives and those of creatures in the wild that seem to work very well for them. No one’s gone the whole way to becoming a naturalist or a vet yet, but three of our girls are now working as veterinary nurses, two in Bath and the other in Southampton.’
Impressed, she said, ‘So it’s like a radic … radically different kind of sixth-form college?’
He nodded. ‘I guess you could say that.’ Though he continued to speak she was aware of how closely he was watching her, seeming to know that things weren’t right, but unsure as yet what to do about it. ‘It’s wonderful the way so many professionals are willing to share their time and expertise,’ he said, his words forming a bridge over the changing current between them. ‘Some, of course, do it for the kudos and publicity, but most get involved because they really want to.’ He paused, still watching her, seeming to wait for a cue. Or … What was he doing? His thoughts seemed to be … seemed not to be on his words.
‘Go on,’ she prompted.
Still going with it, he said, ‘Our friend Sam has worked miracles in all sorts of ways. He gets the kids involved in all the trades from plumbing, to electrics, to roofing … Those who’re really interested learn how to construct a small dwelling somewhere on the farm, making it as isolated or as close to the main complex as they choose. It’s always temporary, so we don’t have to apply for planning consent. Some have started renovating old caravans, or repurposing disused shipping containers; last year someone even transformed a boat.’
Enchanted by the amazing opportunities his family had created for so many underprivileged children, Vivi said, ‘I can understand …’ she took a breath, ‘why Michelle says it’s a very special place.’
‘You’ll have to come and see it one of these days,’ he told her, seeming to mean it.
Knowing she’d love to, she said, ‘I’m just wondering what other life experiences you’ve had besides uni, South Africa and Deerwood.’
Instead of answering, he said, ‘Shall we sit quietly for a while?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m just … It comes and goes.’ With a smile she knew was probably tinged with blue, she added, ‘I hope you’re not avoiding my question?’
He smiled too and proving that he’d read her correctly, he said, ‘I’m not married, and I never have been, because I’ve never met the right woman, although, as you know, I thought I had for a while when I was in Africa. My sister Zoe, on the other hand, has been more successful. She’s in California at the moment, on honeymoon with her new wife, and learning even more holistic therapies to bring back to Deerwood.’
‘So she lives at Deerwood?’
‘One way or another we all do. Maybe not permanently, but Zoe’s still got her old bedroom at the farmhouse, and Hanna has the main part of the barn that was first converted into a holiday let by our maternal grandparents aeons ago. Patty and George – said maternal grandparents – are still in their two-up two-down end of the barn, while Hanna and her husband, Martin – he’s a journalist who came to interview her back in the early days and never quite left – they and their three, soon to be four, children rocket around the rest of the barn. Have I lost you yet?’
Smiling past the tiredness that was trying to drown her, she said, ‘I think I’m following it all. I was just wondering … I notice how you keep changing the subject away from yourself.’ Was that what she’d meant to say? She wasn’t sure for the moment how well she’d heard everything. Maybe he’d talked about himself more than she realized and she’d failed to take it in. She wanted to stay awake, and to stop him from looking so concerned. He was getting up, coming to … She didn’t object as he eased her down on the sofa, raised her legs gently and rearranged the pillows … It felt good to have him here … Really good, as though he was … She watched him through blurry eyes as he smoothed a calming hand over her forehead and murmured that it was time to rest for a while. She closed her eyes and put a hand over his, holding it to her cheek as though she might absorb some of his strength.
When she awoke she was still lying in the same place, but it was Michelle on the floor beside her now, playing with Ash. A cool breeze was drifting in through the open windows, toys were scattered about …
She blinked, trying to get a sense of the time and how long she’d been out. She took a breath, found it came easily, and took another while trying to decide if she felt dizzy, or lethargic, or even depressed.
There was no sign of Josh and she wasn’t sure whether she felt embarrassed that she’d fallen asleep, or disappointed that he’d gone; probably it was a combination of the two.
She smiled as Ash spotted her eyes were open and let out a jubilant shriek. ‘Hello, noisy,’ she croaked.
Michelle turned to sit facing her, holding an excited Ash back before he launched himself onto the sofa. ‘Josh had to go,’ she said, ‘but he wanted me to tell you that he’s never bored anyone off to sleep before.’
Vivi spluttered on a laugh, and eased herself up on one elbow.
‘How are you feeling?’ Michelle asked.
‘OK, I think.’ She was definitely breathing easily, and her senses seemed clear. ‘My ICD didn’t activate, did it?’ No, of course not, she’d remember if it had.
‘Can I get you anything?’ Michelle asked.
Seeing the pitcher of iced tea still on the table, Vivi gestured to it and swung her feet carefully to the floor. ‘Well,’ she said, as Michelle handed her a glass, ‘I guess he can’t be in any doubt now that I’m a faint heart. Did he call you to ask you to come?’
‘Yes. He had to leave, something to do with a horse, so I said I’d stay with you until your mother gets home.’
Vivi sighed despairingly. ‘God, what a burden I am.’
‘That’s not how he described you,’ Michelle assured her. ‘Actually, he didn’t describe you at all, apart from as someone he’d bored senseless.’
Laughing, Vivi said, ‘He told me about Deerwood. It sounds fascinating. I can’t believe you’ve never mentioned it.’
Michelle shrugged. ‘It’s more Sam’s thing than mine, and unless you’re in that world …’
‘Have you been there?’
‘A few times. It’s a crazy place, or that’s how it seems on the surface, but what it’s achieving is nothing short of amazing. You’d love his sisters, and his mum, Shelley. Everyone does.’
Remembering how he’d said she should visit Deerwood, Vivi felt sure he wasn’t the type to throw out empty invitations or to string her along for the sake of the moment. He’d seemed to enjoy the time they’d spent together, and she couldn’t stop herself hoping she’d see him again. To try to resist it would be pointless, she realized. She didn’t have the will, and even if she did she could already sense him walking all over it.
Looking at Michelle, she said, ‘I don’t really understand what’s happening. He’s … I don’t know what he is, apart from … He said I’m not like anyone he’s met before, and that’s how I think of him.’ Quite suddenly her eyes filled with tears, hot and burning, as the futility of it all swept in to eclipse the dream and bring her harshly back to reality. ‘I don’t know whether fate’s being spectacularly cruel,’ she said, as Michelle squeezed her hand, ‘or if it’s decided to let me have a taste of something truly special before it’s too late. Which is spectacularly cruel.’ She frowned in confusion, in hope, dismay, and the kind of longing that shouldn’t be in her world now. ‘Am I overstating things?’ she asked softly. ‘Reading too much into something that’s hardly had the chance to be anything? I’m finding it almost impossible to get a proper perspective on my feelings, or understanding, or anything else that’s going on. All I can tell you is that now he’s gone he feels like a dream, but when he was here it was as though nothing else was real.’ Her eyes went to Michelle’s. ‘Does that sound weird?’ she asked anxiously.
‘No,’ Michelle smiled, ‘it doesn’t sound weird at all.’
Josh came again the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that. He stayed only an hour or two, but during that time they talked as easily as if they’d known one another for years. Sometimes they walked on the beach, but mostly they lounged comfortably in her sitting room. They rarely took their eyes from each other, as though if they did one of them might disappear or somehow cease to be real. They shared so many stories about themselves and those they loved that Vivi felt sure they’d run out of words soon, but this never seemed to happen.
If she got tired he sat with her quietly and they listened to music, or watched wildlife videos on YouTube – his favourite, of course, but she was coming to love them too. On the only occasion her device fired – out of the blue, for she’d simply been sitting on the floor beside him browsing a selection of audio books – he’d put the iPad down and lifted her up onto the sofa. He hadn’t panicked or fussed, had merely waited for her to tell him what she needed him to do.
She soon recovered, physically, but the reminder of her frailty left her shaken emotionally, and even more fearful of the future now that he was in her life. To try to help his understanding of her situation she showed him Jim Lynskey’s blog, not only because she was starting to feel an affinity with the young lad waiting for a heart transplant, but because he was already living with a VAD – the dreaded yet crucial device she had to look forward to unless fate decided to take her a different route. As soon as Josh finished reading Jim’s story he suggested they contact him to see if they could help with his campaign for organ donation. They did, right away, but so far they hadn’t had a reply.
On the Saturday of their first week together, at Vivi’s insistence, he brought his dog with him. She was thrilled to discover that Ellie, the lurcher spaniel cross, was just as he’d described her – minus an ear, vaguely cross-eyed, and willing to do just about anything Josh asked of her. Apparently an old lady from a village near Deerwood had willed her beloved pet to him, certain that no one would take better care of her than a vet.
Ellie clearly adored her new master, and Vivi adored the dog, because it was impossible not to. She was a shaggy mass of champagne-coloured fur with black and white patches around her eyes and a shyly wagging tail that speeded up impressively any time someone showed her affection – or a ball.
As well as the mutt, he brought a large wicker hamper. It contained a flask of iced tea, made from Deerwood strawberries, a small loaf of wholemeal bread, fresh that morning from the oven of a seventeen-year-old resident who’d developed a passion for baking; a summer salad from his grandfather’s raised beds; two succulent free-range chicken breasts, a sliver of goat’s cheese and an extremely wholesome selection of fresh berries with a blob each of his grandmother’s goat’s-milk yoghurt.
Vivi had no idea if he’d told his family where he was taking this delicious picnic, nor did she ask. It didn’t matter, she told herself. All that did was that he was here.
The day was so warm they decided to wander over to the dunes, where he laid out a blanket, and they sat down to enjoy the sea air, wholesome food and rhythmic hum of the waves. In no time at all he was entertaining her with the latest tales of Deerwood’s residents, and as she ate and drank and shared ball-throwing duties for Ellie she felt so at one with the world that she almost missed the name of his very first pet lamb.
‘Steven!’ she laughed, disbelievingly. ‘You had a lamb called Steven?’
Looking offended, he said, ‘I thought it was a very good name myself, and he always seemed to like it. He answered to it, anyway, and my piglets, Wonka and Bucket, absolutely understood how honoured they were to be named after such iconic characters.’
Loving every minute of this, she said, ‘Do you still name all the animals?’
‘Well, it’s more my nephews’ and niece’s department these days, however the Border collie – the farm’s top dog – is always called Dodgy.’
Vivi eyes sparkled. ‘No, you can’t,’ she protested.
Appearing amazed that she had issue with it, he said, ‘The Dodgy we have now is our fifth. His predecessors are all residing in Dodgy Dip, a hallowed spot on the farm where they’re buried. Anyone who wants to can go and sit quietly for an hour or two to reflect on whatever they need to reflect on. The Dodgy ghosts have a way of rounding up your troubles and putting them to bed. It’s very relaxing, and good for the soul.’
‘So you’re a regular?’
‘No, but everyone tells me I should be.’ Taking a couple of raspberries from the bowl he popped one into his mouth, and the other into hers, letting his fingers linger a moment on her lips.
‘So why the name Dodgy?’ she asked huskily, savouring his touch far more than the fruit.
He smiled. ‘Apparently, when my parents took over the farm, they discovered that my great-uncle had named the sheepdog of the time Todger.’
She choked on a laugh.
‘So feeling this might not be such a suitable name for children to be yelling around the countryside my father changed it to Dodger, and from there it got shortened to Dodgy. Are you comfortable there?’
‘Very, thank you.’
‘Good, because your elbow is carving a niche into my thigh.’
Taking the hint, she shifted onto her back and gazed dreamily up at the sky, seeing nothing but happiness.
He gazed down at her and waited for her eyes to come to his. When they did she felt her smile fading as her heartbeat faltered. She wanted him so much, so badly, and she could see that it was the same for him. She imagined him touching and kissing her, fitting the length of himself against her, pulling her in tightly …
He was the first to break away, releasing her from the intensity of the moment, picking up Ellie’s ball and hurling it down to the beach. Vivi turned to watch the dog run and after a while, when she spotted a small boy and his father trying to fly a kite, she was able to smile.
‘It’s funny, isn’t it,’ he remarked, ‘how children think their fathers can do anything, even launch a kite when there’s no wind? Funnier still is the way fathers still give it a go.’
She was watching him again, and imagining him as a young boy growing up without his dad, and feeling the loneliness of it stealing through her, as it was surely stealing through him. ‘Tell me about your father and what you remember of him,’ she said softly.
He seemed to consider it for a moment, but in the end he said, ‘Why don’t you tell me about yours? You never mention him.’
Her throat dried as she closed her eyes, trying to stop his question casting a shadow on the day. But nothing could do that while they were together like this. ‘I’ve no idea who my father is,’ she replied frankly. ‘My mother won’t tell me; she won’t even discuss it, so I’ve decided to try and find him for myself. Hence the DNA test Michelle mentioned at the barbecue.’
He listened quietly, his eyes moving from hers to her mouth and back again as she told him about the terrible arguments she’d had with her mother over the years; about the wondering if her father was a married man, a rapist, or one of many her mother had slept with without bothering to ask for names.
‘I’m pretty sure she does know who he is,’ she said, wondering what he was thinking. He was lying on his side now, his head propped on one hand as he continued to look at her in a way that seemed to see past her words, to a place she wasn’t even sure about herself.
‘Do you think he knows about you?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘I’ve no idea. If he does then he’s never tried to get in touch, or not that I know of, and it hasn’t actually been difficult since I left home. So maybe I should just accept that he’s either dead, or not interested in me, and move on with my life. On the other hand, if he doesn’t know about me …’ She inhaled deeply. ‘If he doesn’t, there’s nothing to say he’d want to, and is it really such a great idea to turn up on his doorstep saying, “Surprise, I’m your daughter, but don’t worry I won’t be around much longer, just wanted to say hi.”’
Reaching out a hand, he smoothed tendrils of hair from her face, and for a moment she thought he might lean forward and kiss her. She wanted it even more than she feared it, but if he did they both knew it wouldn’t stop there … Though they hadn’t actually discussed the dangers of physical intimacy, what the adrenalin rush might do to her heart, she knew he understood and felt as wretched about it as she surely did.
Hearing someone calling her name, she turned to see Michelle wading through the marram grass towards them. ‘I hope I haven’t chosen a bad moment,’ she grimaced, sinking down beside them.
Without looking at Josh, Vivi said, ‘It’s fine. Where are the children?’
‘With my parents. Am I too early? I am, aren’t I? We were supposed to be going into town, remember?’
Vivi hadn’t forgotten, she’d simply lost track of the time.
‘I should go,’ Josh said, ruffling Ellie’s one ear as he got to his feet. ‘I’m due at the Bleasdales in an hour.’
Michelle looked up at him, squinting against the sun. ‘Humphrey Bleasdale?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘It’s time for his horses to have their jabs. Do you know the family?’
Michelle shrugged. ‘Only by name, and of course because of what happened to one of their sons. I can’t recall the details now, it was quite a long time ago, but I remember it was all over the news. Did you know him?’
Josh nodded grimly. ‘Yes, I did,’ he replied, and throwing Ellie’s ball in the direction of the car he gathered up the remains of the picnic, said a friendly farewell and left.
Michelle turned to Vivi. ‘Is everything all right between you guys?’ she asked curiously.
Vivi was still watching him, wondering if he’d look back and wave before driving off. ‘It’s strange and awful and wonderful,’ she replied, ‘and still so unbearably confusing that I hardly know what to think or do.’
Michelle said, ‘I think it’s the same for him. Have you talked about your feelings at all?’
Vivi shook her head. ‘And I’m not sure that we should. It might make things even more difficult … But then I think, what the hell, why don’t we just give in to it and be together properly? What’s the worst it can do?’
Michelle’s eyebrows rose in caution.
‘OK, but would one kiss really be the end of me?’ Vivi demanded in frustration. ‘No, of course not, the trouble is it wouldn’t stop there, and we both know it.’
Watching Josh trying to scoot Ellie out of the driver’s seat, Michelle said, ‘So tell me what you do talk about?’
Vivi was again willing him to look back. ‘Everything,’ she replied, ‘but mostly Deerwood, I guess. Actually, I told him about my father today.’
Michelle looked interested. ‘What did he say?’
Vivi shrugged. ‘What could he say?’ After a beat she said, ‘It’s odd how on one level we seem able to discuss just about anything, but on another it’s like we’ve created barriers without even trying. I’m not just talking about our relationship and what it really is, or where it can go, there are other things we don’t mention.’
‘Such as?’
‘Well, he knows I haven’t told Mum about him, and I’m sure he hasn’t discussed me with his family either.’ She looked at Michelle. ‘Do you know if he has?’
Michelle shook her head.
‘He brought a picnic today. It was wonderful. Everything was from the farm; there was even strawberry iced tea. Someone must have wondered where he was going with it; who it was for. They might even have put it together for him.’
‘Maybe they asked and he told them.’
Vivi hadn’t considered that.
‘Do you mind if he didn’t tell them?’
Vivi pondered the question. ‘I can understand why he wouldn’t want to discuss me,’ she said. ‘I mean, how do you tell your family that you’re getting involved with someone who’s like me?’ And they were involved, she was in no doubt about that, very much involved in fact, in ways too esoteric and even transcendent to grasp with words.
She watched him drive away and felt strangely abandoned and unsettled by his failure to look her way.
After a while Michelle said, ‘Have you arranged to see him again?’
‘Not yet.’ For a moment she felt afraid that it wouldn’t happen, that she’d just seen him for the very last time. She turned to Michelle. ‘He seemed different when he left just now, or was it my imagination?’
Michelle said, ‘Maybe it was my mention of Humphrey Bleasdale. Do you remember what happened? It was a long time ago. We were still at school. One of his twin sons, Matthew, was murdered.’
Vivi did remember it, but so vaguely that there were no details in her mind to give it any sort of substance.
‘Maybe he was a friend of Josh’s,’ Michelle mused. ‘They were certainly neighbours, although Matthew Bleasdale must have been at least ten or fifteen years older. Still, that might account for how distracted he seemed when he left. I probably shouldn’t have brought it up.’
Vivi got to her feet and enjoyed the luxury of stretching out her limbs. ‘I’m sure he’ll forgive you,’ she said, feeling certain he would, if that was indeed what had seemed to sober his mood. She guessed it would sober her too if she’d just been reminded, out of the blue, about a friend who’d been murdered.