‘It wasn’t just me,’ I repeat, even though my face has heated up.
‘I felt like such an idiot when Tonya told me what he’d said and about the job offer and … I’m so sorry for how wrong I got it. She knew you were wavering about taking the job, and I realised you might leave because of me. I was trying to psych myself up to come over when the “fall” happened.’ He does the air quotes and it makes me smile.
‘Dad and Cheryl were trying to persuade me not to go when Godfrey phoned.’ I wring my hands together. ‘I didn’t mean for any of this to happen the way it did. I know I lied to you, but it wasn’t meant to go this far. That first day when I walked in, I hadn’t planned anything, and you were there, this guy I’ve been trying to avoid for fifteen years, and—’
‘Is that why you’ve never been back? Because you were trying to avoid me?’
‘No. Yes. I don’t know. Seeing you again was both my best dream and my worst nightmare. And that day I walked in and you were there, in exactly the place I last saw you, in the place I made the most embarrassing mistake of my life, and I wanted to be cool and sophisticated but I nearly got impaled by a walking stick and trod in sheep poo right in front of you. And I don’t think you realise it, but you’re gorgeous and it’s intimidating, and I didn’t want to be this stupid, pathetic girl who still had a crush on you all these years later.’
As if any conversation with Ryan would be complete without Nineties music, he sings a line of “You’re Gorgeous” by Babybird. ‘But I think that about you. You’re gorgeous. I thought you’d think I was stupid for still being head over heels in love with you. You’re beautiful and sophisticated and successful – and I’ve never lived anywhere outside of here.’
‘But you have a home here. It’s only in the past few weeks that I’ve realised how important that is. You have people who love you; you’re a huge part of a community who rallies round when you need them.’ I wave a hand towards the blocked gate where some of the residents are still loitering.
‘A community who would stage an accident to prevent me making another huge mistake?’
‘I’m sorry, Ryan. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I was overwhelmed and intimidated and embarrassed and you asked me what I did, and I wanted to be more refined than the foot currently in sheep poo indicated. I couldn’t outright say I’d been sent by Landoperty Developments to stop the protest. One of the staff brought out a tray of cakes and I thought of cooking, and then you asked me about it and I thought of a random restaurant. It was a throwaway comment, but then Tonya looked it up and you all seemed impressed and started asking questions about it, and it spiralled out of control, and then I didn’t know how to tell you the truth, and the more time we spent together, the more I realised what it would look like and how you’d react if you found out.’ It’s been a long time since I took a breath and I have to suck in air by the time I stop myself.
‘I get that. And I know I proved your point. And I didn’t tell you about the holiday lets to catch you out or anything. I just wanted you to think the best of me – that I was ambitious like the guys you must meet in the city. I’ve been negotiating about that field for ages. I was ready to give up, but you genuinely did make me feel like I could do it. Seeing how much you’ve put into the strawberry patch has been inspiring.’
‘Seeing how much you love it, how far you’re willing to go, has been inspiring to me.’
‘Oh, Fee.’ He sinks back against the bench and clonks his head back onto the backrest with a long sigh, and I realise how deep the dark shadows under his eyes are, and have to fight that familiar urge to smooth the crow’s feet around his eyes out with my fingers.
He opens his eyes and blinks in the sunlight, lifting his head and looking straight at me. ‘I’m sorry for my reaction the other day, and I’m sorry for my reaction fifteen years ago. I should have been more adult on both occasions.’
I shake my head, but he speaks again before I can correct him. ‘I’m not sure I deserve another chance, but can we start over? Not fifteen years ago, not the other day – right now?’
Tears have sprung to my eyes and I have to bite my lip to stop it wobbling.
He gets to his feet and reaches me in one long stride. ‘I made the mistake of letting you go before, I’m not going to do it again.’ He holds his hand out and his fingers close around mine when I slip them into it, and he tugs me to him, his other arm sliding around my back as he lowers his lips to mine.
It’s nothing more than a peck this time, gentle, cautious, like he’s waiting for me to shove him away, but it still makes everything in the world fade out, apart from my heart pounding and the hot flush that flashes through me. His hand tightens on my hip and I press back, returning the kiss, letting him know it’s okay, and just as it starts to heat up, he stops.
His forehead drops against mine. ‘I have no doubt we’re being watched right now, and last time we got too close, Tonya put it on YouTube. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want this on the internet because it would end up on sites far racier than YouTube. How about we …’ He pulls away and jiggles the hand he’s still holding, tugging me with him as he heads towards the tree.
I follow gladly, still trying to get my head around the unexpected twists and turns life can throw at you. I never thought I’d be mid-kiss with Ryan Sullivan on the seaside strawberry patch again. When he looks over at me, he seems ecstatic and like he couldn’t get the smile off his face if he wanted to.
‘They’re right, you know. You are my “one that got away”. They’ve caught me at sad and lonely moments and I’ve told them about you. About how you made my life better, how much I was in love with you, how much I regretted letting you go …’ He squeezes my hand tighter as he glances up at the tree. ‘And I will always believe the tree brought you back for a reason, and I’m not going to ruin it this time.’
My eyes close in anticipation and his hand slides into my hair and he pushes me back against the tree trunk, cradling my head right above the carving of our names as he pulls my lips to his. There’s nothing soft or gentle about it this time as his whole body presses against mine, and we’re grasping at each other, pulling each other closer. I didn’t think we were holding back when we kissed the other day, but we were compared to this. It feels like the first time again. An apology for everything that’s happened between us and a declaration of love at the same time, and it’s a good thing the solid trunk of the tree is at my back because I doubt I’d still be upright without it.
His soft stubble is making my jaw tingle, and I’m not sure if I can hear the wind blowing or just the rush of blood in my own head as every atom in me centres on our lips. Each point where his body touches mine is a burning hot pressure point, and I’m clutching him closer, one hand scrunched in his hair, the other at the back of his neck, my fingernails leaving indentations in his skin.
I can’t kiss him hard enough, deeply enough, just enough. Every time we need to gasp for air, instead of pulling away, we dive back into the kiss, holding on to each other like we’re drowning in it. No kiss will ever be long enough to make up for lost time.
He’s panting and I’m gasping for air when we finally do pull back and he leans his forehead against mine, bracing the other hand against the tree because he’s definitely holding both of us upright.
‘Now that’s something I should’ve done fifteen years ago.’ He breathes the words against my lips.
I let out a burst of laughter. ‘I think we might’ve been too young to fully appreciate a kiss like that.’
He pulls back until he can meet my eyes, his thumb stroking gently across my jaw. ‘We were too young for a lot of things, including admitting our feelings, but I’m not going to make the same mistake again. I love you, Fee. Just as much now as I did fifteen years ago. This time, I’m not asking you to stay – I’m begging you to. You make me feel like we can tackle anything as long as we’re together. The world has been a better place since you came back, and I don’t want to let that go again.�
� He holds his hands out and I slip mine into them and he squeezes them tight. ‘I’m in a better position now. I can leave the campsite in good hands and go on trips. I want to go places with you. Visit some of the destinations we always said we would, but always, always come home together in the end.’
I’m perilously close to tears again as I let one hand trail up his arm and slide my fingers into his hair and then trace them down his neck and across his chest, until the magnet pulling me to him is too strong and I pull his head down until I can kiss him again.
‘I’ve never stopped loving you, Ry,’ I murmur against his mouth. ‘Every relationship has failed because they weren’t you. I can’t think of anything better than staying here with you.’
Judging by the whoops and cheers from the direction of the care home, the residents must be watching from the windows, because by the time we emerge from the cover of the branches, the gates are open, Baaabra Streisand’s back in her place, and the first few families have come in to pick their own strawberries.
Even though the sea breeze isn’t particularly strong, the branches above us are rustling and waving around, and I look at Ryan and I know we’re both having the same thought – the tree is cheering us on.
He pulls me in for a hug, his hands clutching into my top like he can’t possibly pull me any closer but he’s trying anyway. ‘Welcome home, Fee,’ he murmurs in my ear.
Home. I like the sound of that.
Chapter 20
‘And the winner of the Tree of the Year competition is …’
It’s a couple of weeks later and the Tree of the Year ceremony is online, so we’re all gathered around Tonya’s phone while the internet buffers slower than a dial-up modem, and we wait for the man on the screen to make his announcement after a pause that any talent show TV presenter would be proud of.
The tips of the sycamore have started to turn yellow as September creeps in, and it won’t be long before the tree is once again open for wishes as the sycamore seeds start to fall. The strawberry patch is still open and we’ve put up polytunnels to protect the plants from the first frosts of autumn, and customers are still coming.
‘The seaside sycamore tree!’ The tinny, juddering voice shouts through the speaker and Alys squeals so loudly that she makes Tonya jump and drop the phone.
‘I knew we could do it,’ she says as she fishes the phone out of a strawberry plant.
‘Congratulations, Seaside Sycamore Tree, you will receive a grant towards the conservation efforts, and we have many delighted listeners who are already booking their trips to Wales,’ the man onscreen says.
Ryan throws his arms around me and picks me up, spinning us around, and my hands slide into his hair and stroke his face when he puts me down again. He leans down to press a respectful kiss to my cheek, considering the number of residents gathered round and customers who have stopped to hear the announcement.
Steffan, Godfrey, Mr Barley, Morys, Alys, and Ffion are also here, along with my dad, who’s standing to one side with his arm around Cynthia. Cheryl’s clapping, and most of the nurses are outside, enjoying the early autumn sunshine with the residents.
There is so much hugging that I lose track of who I’ve hugged and end up hugging both Alys and Tonya at least four times, until Dad extracts me from the group by clapping a hand on my shoulder and pulling me over to Cheryl.
‘I want to show you girls something.’ He beckons for us to follow him down to the tree. Cynthia comes with us, and when Ryan looks at me questioningly, I grab his hand and pull him along too.
Dad searches the trunk for a few moments, but seems to know exactly what he’s looking for. He rubs his fingers over the indentation in the bark and then steps back so Cheryl and I can see it too.
It’s the carving of Mum and Dad’s names that they did on their wedding night. One that’s been here all this time and we never knew, never noticed it amongst all the other carvings of lives gone by.
He stands in the middle with his arms around mine and Cheryl’s shoulders, holding Cynthia’s hand against Cheryl’s arm, and Ryan’s holding mine on my other side.
‘I probably should have showed you girls this long ago, but it’s always felt too painful to face. The people we love are everywhere, even when they’re gone. To me, your mother will always be a part of this tree. I’ve avoided it for a long time, but there’s so much love here today that it seemed like the perfect moment. I’m relieved that it will stand here for a long time to come.
I’m crying again. So is Cheryl. So is Dad. There are hugs all round as they walk back up to the strawberry patch, and Ryan and I stay by the tree.
‘We did it,’ he whispers, squeezing the hand he’s still holding.
‘We make a good team.’
He leans down to press his lips to mine, his hand sliding into my hair and tilting my head to meet him, keeping it soft and gentle and not long enough with the number of people who are still celebrating nearby.
Eventually, he tugs me over to lean on the barrier and look out at the perfect sea view, and seconds later, one of the branches above us rustles, and a brown sycamore seed glides from the tree and lands on the grass behind us.
My eyes go wide. ‘I guess the tree agrees.’
‘I’ve always said it knew we were trying to save it,’ he whispers, like speaking normally would break whatever magic exists in this canopy under the branches.
I look up at his laughing, crinkled eyes and wonder if there’s something to be said for trees granting wishes after all.
He bends over to pick up the seed and holds it out to me. ‘Go on, this one is most definitely meant for you.’
My fingers brush his warm palm as I take it and turn it over in my hand, and eventually, I hold it out to him and nod for him to take half and we break it apart like a wishbone.
Half a wish each seems fitting somehow.
‘I wish for the success of the strawberry patch,’ I shout into the universe and we both throw the seeds over the cliff and watch as the two halves twirl downwards. The tide is at its highest point so the sea is lapping at the cliff edge and the helicopter seeds land perfectly in the water below.
I let out a whoop and he laughs, grabbing my hands and pulling me to him. ‘This one’s guaranteed to come true. I think the tree owes us a little magic, don’t you?’
‘Maybe it’s us who owe the tree a little magic,’ I whisper against his chest where he’s pulled me to him, and his arms tighten as I move so I can look up at the branches shifting above us.
Maybe the magic of any tree is in the life that’s passed underneath it while it stands there unmoving for generations, and maybe that is the kind of magic that makes wishes come true.
I look over the edge and see the sycamore seed bobbing on the water’s surface below. Or maybe sometimes it’s pure magic and sycamore wishes made at a seaside strawberry patch really do come true, even if you have to wait a while.
Gripped by The Wishing Tree Beside the Shore? Don’t miss The Little Bookshop of Love Stories, another unputdownable novel from Jaimie Admans. Available now!
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Keep reading for an excerpt from The Little Bookshop of Love Stories …
CHAPTER 1
It is a truth universally acknowledged that today is the Mondayest Monday ever.
I’ve been fired. Again.
I trudge home through the afternoon drizzle that’s so well timed it’s like it waited for me to leave work. I’d left my umbrella behind and was in such disgrace that I wasn’t bold enough to go back in and get it. My boss was one angry step away from fire spurting out of his ears. I think the sight of me again would’ve tipped him over the edge.
The job had been going well too. I’d been there almost a year, and apart from a few warnings about my clumsiness and the odd wage deduction for breakages, being a waitress at a dog-friendly pub within walking distance of my flat wasn’t too bad.
That was
before this afternoon.
A family out for a walk had come in for an afternoon meal, and as I carried the tray of desserts to their table, the little boy dropped his monkey directly into my path. I stumbled over the plastic toy, instantly decapitating it with my shoe, and the tray slipped in my hands, and like a moment from a cartoon where an unseen crowd in the background do a slow-motion gasp of horror, the child’s ice-cream sundae flipped over, doing such an impressive mid-air somersault that if gymnastics judges had been watching, it would’ve scored a perfect ten. The ice-cream bowl was deposited upside down on the head of its chosen victim like some missile-based hat.
As the child burst into screaming tears – unsure if caused by ice cream on head debacle, murdered monkey toy, or a fair mix of both – the ice-cream bowl continued its pursuit for gymnastic glory by cartwheeling from the child’s head to the floor, at which point the family dog leapt from beneath the table and devoured it. As the dad yelled, the mum cried, and the child wailed while ice cream dripped slowly down his neck, the dog clattered the empty metal bowl around the floor, careening into tables, doors, and other diners, dodging any attempt to intercept him with a speed Mo Farah would envy.
When the bowl was eventually wrestled from the dog with only a few teeth marks to show for its adventure, the family were offered their meal on the house and a complimentary voucher, while they bundled their ice-cream-covered child and now somewhat pukey-looking dog into their car to rush it to the vet’s, lest it had consumed an errant chocolate chip lurking in the ice cream. We watched in horror as they squealed a three-point-turn, the mum in the back seat, trying to haul the dog away from licking the ice-cream-covered child. The dog got so annoyed that he barfed in her lap to show his appreciation. This created a domino effect of vomiting as the child then turned to puke out of the window, and the dad hit the brakes, causing the mum to lean forward and throw up all over the front seat.
The Wishing Tree Beside the Shore: The perfect feel good romance to escape with this summer! Page 30
