Almost Lost

by Ophelia Night

  “I can see you’re crucial to the action,” Cassie agreed. “What about you, Maddie?”

  “I am Veruca Salt.” Madison looked proud.

  “That’s one of the main characters, isn’t it?” Cassie said, trying to remember the book, which she’d read as a child.

  “Yes, it is. I’m the spoiled brat whose father gives her everything!”

  Ryan laughed, shaking his head.

  “And I’m the youngest person to have a speaking part,” she continued.

  “That’s incredible. When’s the play itself?”

  “It’s on Saturday afternoon.”

  Madison scraped her fork across the empty plate to get the last of the sauce, licked it, and put it neatly down.

  “I have tickets,” Ryan said.

  “And don’t forget, we have a cast sleepover that night,” Madison reminded him.

  “What’s that?” Cassie asked.

  “They’re performing the play the following morning as part of an inter-school arts festival in Canterbury. So the cast are traveling to a hotel after the Saturday show, and staying overnight. Then they’ll be dropped back at school later on Sunday,” Ryan explained.

  “I’ll put it on the timetable and be there to pick you up when you get back,” Cassie said.

  *

  In the morning she awoke to find the first winter storm had arrived.

  A massive cold front had blown in, bringing with it howling winds and driving rain. Cassie was woken by the gusts of rain drumming against her window, and realized as soon as she got out of bed that the temperature had dropped sharply. Suddenly the low setting of the central heating seemed uncomfortable, and she rushed to get dressed, putting on thick socks and several layers of clothing.

  Concerned about the children standing outside in this icy, blowing rain, she drove them to the bus stop and waited until the bus arrived. Then they made a run for it, sprinting through the rain and leaping over puddles before reaching the bus doors.

  Arriving home cold and wet after the short run from the car to the house, Cassie headed to the kitchen to warm up by the fire. Here, she was surprised to see Ryan making a pot of tea.

  “Good morning, lovely,” he greeted her and she felt herself flush with the pleasure of the compliment, and the prospect of being able to spend some unexpected time with him.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked. “I thought I heard you leave earlier.”

  “I only stayed at work long enough to make a call on the weather. There’s no repair work going to be done today with this storm. I’ve postponed the new crew. It’s supposed to clear for a while this afternoon, but we can’t get any work started till tomorrow.”

  “Oh dear. That must be playing havoc with your timing.”

  “I always factor in a few non-operational days this time of year, so it’s not a catastrophe. The main problem was the previous repair crew’s schedule. Thankfully we have some extra time now, with a new team on board.”

  “What are you going to do today?” Cassie asked, pouring the tea.

  “I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on, but it won’t take long. So if I can give you a hand doing anything, let me know.”

  “I will,” Cassie replied, delighted to have Ryan to herself for the day.

  The paperwork seemed to take him no time at all, and he helped her with the chores she’d become used to doing—tidying the rooms, emptying the dishwasher, putting on a load of laundry.

  “You know, this really does feel like domestic bliss,” he commented jokingly. “I’m sure chores become mundane and annoying when you do them every day, but once in a while, and especially with such pleasant company, I’m finding this fun.”

  “You think you’d be a good house-husband?” Cassie joked, then blushed crimson as she realized how forward the comment must have sounded. But Ryan winked at her before replying in a serious tone.

  “I think I’d be a brilliant one.”

  By lunchtime, all the chores were done and the house was tidy.

  “I have to admit, as an outdoor person, this weather gives me cabin fever,” Ryan said. “Do you want to head down the pub for lunch? We’ll get absolutely soaked on the walk, but they have a roaring fire there so we can eat, dry out, and have a pint or two—and then do the same thing all over again on the way back if it’s still raining. I know it will be fun, and I’d love to do it with you.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Cassie said, thrilled to be going on an outing with him, and thanking her lucky stars that the children were catching the bus back home and that she wouldn’t have to drive anywhere.

  As she headed to her room to put on another, waterproof, layer, she remembered one final chore she needed to do—clean the rabbit’s cage in Dylan’s room and put some fresh sawdust down.

  She headed into the room, grabbing the bag of shavings from the bookcase.

  “Come, little twitchy-nose, I need to clean your cage quick-quick,” she said, bending down.

  She froze, staring in horror.

  Benjamin Bunny’s lettuce leaves were untouched. He was lying very still at the back of his cage and when she reached in hesitantly to feel his gray fur, his body was cold and stiff.

  Benjamin Bunny was dead.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Ryan!” Cassie shouted. “Come quickly.”

  She couldn’t take her eyes off the shocking sight of the prone rabbit and she felt tears welling up.

  Ryan’s footsteps thudded on the wooden floor and a moment later he was at Dylan’s door, his face filled with concern.

  “What is it?”

  “Benjamin Bunny. He’s dead, Ryan.”

  She pointed to the cage, noticing her hands were shaking.

  “Dead? Are you sure?”

  Ryan hurried into the room.

  He reached into the cage and gently took the rabbit out.

  Its head lolled sideways in his grasp.

  “Oh, no, this is terrible. He’s ice cold and you can see his limbs are starting to stiffen. Poor little thing.”

  “What do you think could have happened to him?”

  Cassie sniffed, rubbing her eyes hard.

  “I don’t know. I’ve no idea about rabbits. Dylan’s only had him three weeks but I know he was an older pet; he got him from someone who was moving and didn’t want to take him with them. So it could be that his time was up.”

  “A heart attack?” Cassie hazarded.

  “Perhaps. He doesn’t look to have suffered,” Ryan said.

  “Could it have been the cold snap?”

  “No, Dylan researched his care. Rabbits are cold weather animals and prefer cooler temperatures. And I can see nothing changed in his diet, his water’s fresh. He must have just had a heart attack or a stroke or something. Dylan’s going to be gutted. He adored Benjamin.”

  Cassie felt sobs rising inside her again and fought to control them. She didn’t want to break down and weep in front of Ryan.

  “I’ll go out and bury him now in the back garden near the compost heap. And I’ll think of the best way to break it to Dylan.”

  With the furry body held carefully in his hands, he walked out of the room.

  Cassie took a deep, trembling breath.

  “I’m sorry, little bunny,” she said, blinking hard.

  She checked on Orange and Lemon, but the two fish looked healthy and well, swimming around their mini aquarium.

  Then she sat on Dylan’s bed for a while with her head in her hands, unable to stop the tears from flowing when she thought about the loss of the small gray rabbit, and the devastation it would cause Dylan when he found out.

  After a while she felt Ryan’s hands gently rubbing her shoulders.

  “I’ve buried the little guy,” he said. “Come on. You need to take your mind off this so I say we go out, have a drink, toast bunny’s life, and cheer up. It won’t do Dylan any good if we’re in pieces about it.”

  *

  Two hours in the warmth and chatter of the local
pub took Cassie’s mind off the shock and she was glad that they had a chance to talk it through.

  “Losing a pet is such a wrench, no matter how it happens,” Ryan said.

  “Have the children had other pets?” Cassie asked, feeling that this home would be made even friendlier by the presence of a cat or dog.

  “I grew up with cats in our home, but after I was married, that wasn’t possible, due to allergy problems,” Ryan explained.

  From the way he worded it, Cassie wasn’t sure whether one of the children was allergic, or if it had been his ex-wife.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “When my mom was alive, we had a dog. He was a good companion and so much fun to have around. We used to walk him, feed him, train him. Or try to. He was quite old, and not very trainable.”

  “Did your mom pass away when you were younger?” Ryan asked sympathetically.

  “Yes. She died in an accident. After that, my sister and I were raised by my dad, together with—various girlfriends along the way. It wasn’t a happy home life. My dad was an angry person and he became worse after she died. My sister, Jacqui, ran away from home when I was twelve. She’d protected me for so long but it reached a stage where she just couldn’t anymore. After that it became even worse. I left home as soon as I could, too.”

  “Oh, Cassie. You’ve had such a rough time. No wonder you’re so mature and wise. I told you I sensed that in you, and now I see why it’s there.”

  Ryan’s voice was filled with sympathy as he leaned closer to her. She felt grateful for his compassion. Trusting him with these details felt like an important step—for her, and also for the two of them.

  “Where is Jacqui now?”

  “I don’t know,” Cassie said, confessing the awful truth that had filled so many of her thoughts and nightmares over the years.

  “You don’t know?”

  “She never contacted me again. For years I hoped she would. Every time the phone rang at home, I thought it might be her. Then I moved away, and my dad moved house, and every time there was another degree of separation, I would think of Jacqui and how it would be more and more difficult for her to find me again.”

  “There’s social media,” Ryan said.

  “My account’s super-private, and I don’t think she has an online presence at all. I’ve looked for her often but never seen a trace of her.”

  “Where do you think she went?”

  “I think she went to Europe, and I don’t know what happened to her after that. I thought for a while she was dead, but recently I’ve changed my mind. I think she’s alive, and I believe I will see her again one day.”

  Cassie thought of Renee’s message about the mystery woman who’d refused to give her name.

  It might be Jacqui. Scared, damaged, and surely feeling guilty about all the years of silence. It might take a while for her to get the courage to call again.

  “I hope that happens, Cassie. Living with that uncertainty for so long is a burden you don’t deserve to be carrying.”

  Ryan checked his watch.

  “We’d better be getting back. We have our boy to think about now.”

  She glanced at him sharply, wondering if he realized what he’d said and how he’d used the word “our,” but he didn’t seem to notice, or regret, the words that he had used.

  The rain was easing off as they headed home, although the wind was still strong. After two beers, Cassie was glad of the brisk, sobering walk. She hadn’t realized until she had gotten up how much the alcohol had affected her and she was worried she would become over-emotional when Ryan broke the news to his son.

  When Dylan and Madison arrived back, they burst into the house, with Madison shrieking and laughing from the short run to the front door.

  “Hello, Dad, hello, Cassie. Dress rehearsal went really well. My costume is awesome! I get to wear this really sparkly, pretty dress because I’m rich and I’m spoiled.”

  “Glad to hear it, lovely. Come into the kitchen now. Do you two want a cup of tea?”

  “No, thanks.”

  Looking curious, Madison came into the kitchen, with Dylan close behind.

  Cassie took a deep breath as she saw Ryan’s serious face. She hoped she wouldn’t start crying.

  “Dylan, I’m afraid I have some bad news about Benjamin Bunny.”

  Cassie heard the sharp intake of Madison’s breath. Glancing at the children, she saw Madison looked stricken. Dylan, however, was expressionless.

  “What happened, Dad?” he asked.

  “When Cassie cleaned the cage, she noticed that the little guy wasn’t looking well.”

  Now Cassie’s head jerked around and she stared at Ryan, wide-eyed. This wasn’t what had happened. Where was he going with this?

  “We immediately rushed him to the vet, and they confirmed that he was an older animal who had started to experience heart failure. They said that if this continued Benjamin would undoubtedly suffer, and feel progressively worse for the remainder of his life, and that the condition was irreversible and terminal.”

  Cassie couldn’t breathe as she listened.

  “They advised putting Benjy to sleep to prevent any further suffering. Cassie and I held him and he didn’t know a thing about it; he was calm and comfortable, and with the painkillers they gave him, he was even feeling well enough to take a small bite of carrot before he went to sleep.”

  Madison burst into tears, and Dylan nodded somberly. His face was still empty of emotion. Needing comfort herself, Cassie hugged Madison, rubbing her shoulders, and dug in her pocket for the wad of Kleenex she’d put there in preparation.

  She felt completely thrown by this alternative version. She had no idea why Ryan had said what he did. He hadn’t discussed this with her first, or even hinted he would say anything other than the truth.

  Surely he should have asked Dylan if he’d noticed anything wrong, or if there had been any change in the rabbit’s food, or if he’d been accidentally injured, or any of the myriad other things that could have happened?

  Well, it was too late now, and she couldn’t step in. She was about to stammer out some comforting words herself, to scrape something coherent together, when Ryan took her voice away all over again.

  “Here are his ashes,” he said, and produced a glass jar filled with ash.

  It could only have come from the fireplace. Cassie had noticed he’d cleaned it out after they had arrived back from the pub. He’d buried Benjamin—well, she guessed that much was true. He certainly hadn’t burned the rabbit and a house fire wasn’t hot enough to cremate a bunny in any case; it would just have roasted him.

  Nausea flooded her at that thought, and she swallowed hard.

  “I thought we could all have a cup of tea now and talk about Benjamin, remember him for the amazing bunny he was. And then when the rain has stopped, we can go and scatter his ashes into the sea.”

  Madison was still shuddering with sobs. “That’s so sad. But it sounds good, Dad.”

  Dylan’s face was like stone.

  Cassie suddenly felt a stab of horror. What if the rabbit’s death had affected her own memory and she was the one who had misremembered everything? Gaps in her memory had occurred before, admittedly when she’d been under stress, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t recur at other times. Those gaps had been terrifying. Days later, she’d recalled incidents that her mind had completely blanked out at the time—and her overactive subconscious had presented alternative versions in the form of nightmares, so that after a while, she hadn’t known what was true and what not.

  It was horrific to think that Ryan might have said, “Let’s take the little guy to the vet—he could just be in a deep coma,” and she had heard, “I’ll bury him in the garden.”

  Cassie resolved that she would ask Ryan that night, while they were having their customary glass of wine that had turned into a nightly ritual.

  She wanted to know for sure if she was remembering this right, or if the nightmares and fa
lse memories were starting up again.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  As soon as the rain cleared, Cassie headed out to the bluff with the family.

  Dylan led the way carrying the jar of ashes, Ryan followed close behind him, and Cassie walked at the back, holding Madison’s gloved hand tightly in her own. She was feeling tearful again, and knew it would take all her self-control not to break down.

  “You were a good bunny, Benjamin,” Dylan said solemnly.

  Cassie pressed her lips together to prevent sobs erupting. This was Dylan’s chance to grieve; it was not for her to grab attention away from him. Hopefully she could blame the cold wind for the tears in her eyes.

  “You were the best,” Ryan added.

  “An amazing bunny. I’ll miss you,” Madison agreed.

  Madison had been tearful earlier but was calmer now, and Cassie thought that perhaps Ryan’s instincts had been right, because although unusual, the ceremony was allowing them all to have closure for the death of their pet.

  “I thought you were lovely, Benjamin. Rest well,” Cassie said.

  She hiccupped out a sob before holding her breath to try and prevent an onslaught of tears.

  She had expected that Dylan would open the jar and scatter the fireplace ashes to the wind, but he didn’t. He weighed it briefly in his hand and then tossed it out over the bluff.

  The setting sun glinted on the glass as it tumbled and fell out of sight. The sea was raging so hard that she didn’t hear it hit the rocks, far below.

  That did it for Cassie.

  Letting go of Madison’s hand, she dropped to her knees, doubling over on the soaking, muddy grass with her head buried in her arms. Sobs burst out of her, rough and unstoppable.

  “I’m so sorry,” she gasped. “It’s all my fault, I’m to blame. I should have done more. If I had done something earlier it might all have been OK.”

  Grief overcame her and her sobs turned into cries.