by K. J. Frost
“Do you want to come out into the garden with me?” Mother asks, coming over and linking her arm through Amelie’s, leading her away. “Oh…” she adds, glancing over her shoulder at me, “did Rufus tell you that we found your note this morning?”
Amelie turns, our eyes meet, and we both burst out laughing.
Pearce, Wells, Adams and Ward arrive together in one car – which evidently belongs to Pearce’s father and has been borrowed for the day. Now they’re here, I realise Thompson is right. I do recall Adams and Ward, I just wasn’t able to put names to faces. They greet me somewhat awkwardly, although Aunt Dotty soon steps in and welcomes them into the house, taking them through to the sunroom, showing them the garden and asking after their families, even though she’s never met them before.
Tooley is the next to knock on the door. He’s much more at ease with me, enquiring after my health and telling me how relieved the men were when they heard I was going to be alright. I have to admit, I’m touched by the sentiment and I take him through the house myself.
Thompson and his family arrive last, and he makes the introductions, while holding his young son in his arms, the boy’s blond head nestled onto his shoulder. His wife is even more petite than Amelie, showing no signs as yet of her condition. She has reddish-blonde hair and the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, her face dotted with freckles and, although she’s a little pale, she’s positively glowing with the new life she’s creating. I’ve just finished shaking hands with her when Aunt Dotty appears from the back of the house and takes Julia and Christopher away, leaving me and Harry by ourselves.
“You have a lovely family,” I say sincerely.
“Thank you,” he replies.
“What Julia sees in you is beyond me,” I add, joking.
“I know. She tells me that all the time too.” He laughs, although it seems a little half-hearted.
“How’s the morning sickness?” I ask, wondering if that’s causing a problem.
“Let’s just say we’d have been here a little earlier, but…” He leaves his sentence unfinished.
“I hope she takes it easy today.”
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” he says as I lead him through the house. “I just didn’t want to leave them at home on their own all day. Not after the week we’ve had.”
I can imagine that Julia will have found the last few days just as daunting as Amelie. It may not have been Thompson who was injured, but that doesn’t make the threat we’ve been living under any less real, or any less frightening for everyone involved. Not only that, but I know he’s been putting in some long hours in my absence, not just at work, but ferrying Amelie and my mother around as well. I don’t suppose it’s been easy for his family.
“I meant to tell you yesterday,” he adds as we get to the sunroom, pulling me back a little by my good arm, “I went to see Kate Pendry’s parents yesterday as well.”
“Oh?”
He looks away, staring down the garden, to where everyone else is gathered, talking and laughing, my mother and Aunt Dotty joining in. Julia and Amelie are standing slightly to one side, smiling and deep in conversation already, which is good to see. I like the idea of her making new friends, especially as I know how lonely she’s been since Beth was killed.
“Yes,” Harry says, and I turn to face him, dragging my mind back to our conversation. “The father was there as well.”
“What happened?” I can see he’s troubled.
“They couldn’t have cared less about their daughter,” he replies, letting out a sigh and leaning back on the doorframe. “The only thing they were interested in was what the neighbours would think, and would they have to move to a different area to escape the shame of what she’d done.” He hesitates. “I don’t know why I expected anything different, but for some reason, I did.”
“You expected something different because you like to think that most people are inherently good, when basically, they’re not. Most people are pretty damned horrible.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “But look on the bright side, if they weren’t, we’d have nothing to do.” I look closely at him. “Are you alright, Harry?”
He glances at me. “I had a telephone call from my mother,” he says, and I wonder what’s happened, knowing that at least one of his brothers is serving in the army. “My youngest brother Vic got his call up papers.”
“So they’re both gone?”
“Well, Vic will be going in a week or so.”
“Try not to think the worst,” I tell him.
“That’s what Julia said.” He smiles at me and slowly nods his head, turning to gaze down the garden, just as young Christopher raises his arms up, clearly wanting to be carried. Amelie says something to Julia and then bends, lifting the boy into her arms and letting him rest on her hip, like a natural. He reaches around her neck and nestles against her, and I take a deep breath to try and compose myself. Despite my conversation with Harry about fatherhood, and my mother’s occasional hints about baby names when I first introduced her to Amelie, we haven’t really talked about children, and whether they might feature in our future. I suppose we haven’t had the opportunity, and I’d rather assumed Amelie was too young to have thought about such things in a serious way yet. Looking at her now though, I think I might have got that wrong. And that means we need to talk – not because I don’t want to have children, but because I’ve just this moment realised that I do.
“Well, Christopher has certainly taken to Amelie,” Harry says, turning back to me, a broad grin on his face. “I give it six months at most.”
“Six months?”
He nods. “Before you’re announcing the impending patter of tiny feet.”
“Can we at least get married first?”
He looks back down the garden. “Yes, but only if you hurry up,” he says and laughs as he goes down the steps.
We’ve been lucky with the weather and the sun is shining brightly, although the ground is still wet from the recent rains and, as I stand at the door of the sunroom and watch them all start working, I’m almost not sorry that I can’t join in. The earth will be heavy, and digging it over is going to be hard work. As the morning progresses, there’s a lot of raucous laughter – most of which seems to be instigated by my mother – and everyone is in very good spirits, even if they are all completely filthy.
Ethel and Aunt Dotty have made sandwiches for lunch, which they bring out on a big tray, together with some tea, and everyone stops for half an hour. I take the chance to spend some time with Amelie, who I’ve hardly seen since earlier this morning.
“Where have you been?” I ask her, putting my arm around her as she takes a bite from her sandwich.
“Just here and there,” she replies evasively. “I like Julia,” she adds as an aside, pulling me away from everyone else. “She’s ever so nice.”
Thinking about it, I’ve hardly seen Julia all morning either and I assume they’ve been together somewhere further down the garden.
“Far too good for Harry,” I reply and she taps me gently on the chest.
“You’re mean to him,” she says. “He’s been very kind to me.”
Without warning, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck spring to life, but I shrug them away quickly, reminding myself that Amelie is not Victoria and I have nothing to fear.
“I know,” I reply gently, sighing through my moment of unfounded jealousy.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, looking up at me.
“Ludicrously tired, considering I haven’t done anything.”
“You only came out of hospital yesterday,” she replies, looking concerned. “Perhaps you should go and lie down?”
I want to tell her that I’d rather like it if she came with me and we could lie down together for a while. A year or two might do to start off with… or maybe we should just settle for forever. I’ve missed her over the last few days, and seeing her now has made me realise how much.
Nurse West was right. There’s no need for me to
plan a proposal, because the only thing that matters is us, and not wasting any more time.
“Amelie,” I say quietly, holding her hand in mine and looking into her eyes.
“Yes?”
“Will you—?”
“Rufus?” My mother’s voice intrudes into the moment and I turn to face her.
“Yes, Mother?” I try to keep the impatience out of my voice. For someone who’s been nagging at me to propose, she’s doing a remarkable job of preventing it.
“Frank’s here.”
I turn fully and notice Uncle Frank – the Chief Constable – standing behind her in the doorway to the sunroom, wearing a casual outfit of grey trousers, a white shirt and a tweed jacket. Everyone else falls silent, a little wide-eyed and in awe of seeing him so informally dressed, and the other ranks present stiffen, as though standing to attention in his presence. Well, this is awkward.
“Rufus,” he says, coming down the steps and into the garden. “How are you, my boy?”
“I’m better than I was, sir, thank you.” I decide the ‘sir’ might be a good idea, considering the company we’re in.
He raises an eyebrow as though to correct me, and then thinks better of it, giving me a slight nod of his head. “I heard you were home,” he adds, “but didn’t realise you were having a party.” He glances around the garden, nodding at Tooley and Thompson, who return the gesture.
“It’s not really a party, Frank.” My mother steps up and links her arm through his. “We’re helping Dotty to dig over her garden.”
“You are?” He seems surprised.
“Yes. You’ve heard of this Dig for Victory campaign, haven’t you?”
He nods his head in slow comprehension. “Oh, yes. Of course.”
“Well, these lovely young men offered to help,” my mother continues, waving her arm at the gathering before her. “Because Rufus is hardly in a fit state.”
Again, Uncle Frank nods his head. “I don’t suppose you could use another pair of hands, could you?” he suggests.
“We never say no to help,” Mother replies and Frank smiles down at her.
I wonder for a moment at the wisdom of this move, considering that the four PCs present have probably never met the Chief Constable, and that his presence might make them feel uncomfortable, but it’s too late to argue as my mother pulls him towards the others and starts making introductions.
Amelie comes and stands beside me again. “Are you alright?” she asks.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Y—You were going to ask me something?” she says, stammering slightly.
I kiss the top of her head just gently. “Yes, but it’ll keep.”
I feel as though the atmosphere has changed with Uncle Frank’s arrival. The moment has passed… but I know it’ll come back again.
I don’t know what I was worrying about. Uncle Frank has fitted in perfectly, taking off his jacket and working in his shirtsleeves, and is laughing and joking with the others while they dig their way down the garden.
I stand, leaning against the doorframe of the sunroom and realise that Amelie and Julia are still nowhere to be seen and, intrigued, I start walking slowly and carefully along the pathway that leads down one side of the garden.
Coming around the other side of the run-down, rather dilapidated potting shed, I discover where my beloved has been all day. This area, which was once bare earth and used for storage, is now turfed and tidy, and Amelie and Julia are crouching down on the ground to one side, with a pot between them, filling it with soil. Christopher seems to be helping, in a manner of speaking, adding handfuls of earth and getting utterly filthy in the process.
“What’s going on?” I ask, and they both startle and stand upright, Amelie coming over to me.
“We’re making a little area for your aunt,” she says, lowering her voice.
“You are?”
“Yes. Come and see.” She leads me over to where they’ve been working. “I thought up the idea last weekend, when we were clearing the flowerbeds,” she explains, going back to her task. “I couldn’t help but notice how upset Dotty looked at the loss of her garden, and I saw this patch of earth and thought it might be possible to turn it into something a bit… nicer.”
“Well, you’ve certainly succeeded.”
She smiles up at me. “I cleared this space first thing,” she says, “and then Julia came and joined in, and we got them to take up some of the turf really carefully, and then re-lay it over here. And since then, we’ve been potting up some of your aunt’s shrubs… the ones we took up last weekend, remember?” I nod my head. “They can live in the sunroom over the winter and be planted out again in the spring.”
She claps her palms together to get rid of some of the dirt and then stands with her hands on her hips, surveying the work they’ve done.
“Aunt Dotty will love it,” I say, looking down at her.
“I know it’s not what she’s used to, but…” Amelie’s voice fades.
“It’s somewhere she can sit and draw,” I point out. “That’s all she wanted… and she will love it.”
“You’re sure?” She seems doubtful.
“I’m positive.” I take her slightly mucky hand and give it a squeeze. “Would you like me to prove it?”
“How?”
“I’ll go and fetch her.”
She glances around at the space she and Julia have created, and then looks up at me again. “Alright.” She nods her head.
I find her uncertainty touching, but I don’t comment, and go back onto the path and up to the house, where Dotty is standing in the sunroom, watching her garden being transformed. She looks a little desolate, but paints a smile on her face when she notices me approaching.
“How are you, Rufus?” she asks as I go inside. “Not overdoing it, I hope?”
“Not at all,” I reply. “But I’d like you to come and look at something with me, if that’s alright?”
She tilts her head to one side, as though she doesn’t understand, but steps forward unquestioningly and goes out through the door ahead of me.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“Down the path and behind the potting shed,” I reply.
She turns, her brow furrowed, but does as I say, coming to an abrupt halt when she gets to our destination. She looks up at me.
“Did you do this?” she asks, tears filling her eyes as she takes in the sight before her, of a small patch of lawn, a cherry tree in the corner – which was always there, but was somewhat neglected and has now been trimmed back and cleared of all the rubbish around its trunk – and the pots that Amelie and Julia have planted up and dotted around to great effect.
“No,” I reply. “This was Amelie’s idea. And Julia helped her achieve it.”
Dotty turns away and steps forward onto the grass, then holds out her arms and embraces Amelie. “Thank you, my dear child,” she says.
“Do you like it?” Amelie asks, leaning back and looking at Aunt Dotty.
“It’s perfect.”
“Well, it’s not perfect yet, but it will be in the spring. We’ve potted up all these plants and we’ll get the men to move them into the sunroom later on. They’ll be protected from the frosts in there, and you can plant them out again in the spring.”
“It’s going to be so lovely,” Dotty whispers, looking around her. She turns to Julia. “Thank you, my dear,” she says.
“You’re welcome,” Julia replies, with a heartfelt smile and I’m aware of someone standing just behind me, and I turn. It’s Thompson.
“What’s happening?” he says, leaning on his spade.
“Amelie and Julia have been creating a small oasis of calm for Aunt Dotty,” I explain.
He smiles. “Oh… I see. That’s what they wanted the turf for, was it?”
“Yes.”
He nods slowly and moves away again, and I look back to where Amelie is talking animatedly with Aunt Dotty, looking at the shrubs and discussing where might be best to pla
nt them out when the weather warms up again. Just for a moment, she glances up at me, and I smile, and realise that, without doing anything, I’ve just achieved the impossible. I’ve fallen even more deeply in love with her.
Everyone leaves at about four-thirty. The garden is completely dug over, the pots have been moved into the sunroom and arranged to Aunt Dotty’s specifications, and the four PCs have decided to go home, bathe and change, and meet at the pub later on. Tooley’s gone back to his sister’s house, where she’s evidently prepared a rabbit stew for their supper, and Thompson and his wife are keen to get Christopher home, fed and into bed. He told me earlier that they usually go out on a Saturday evening, but they decided they’d be tired tonight, so have planned a night at home instead. I told him the fact that he’s looking forward to it so much means that he’s getting old. He laughed and winked at me, and told me I’ll think differently when I’ve got children of my own, right before he put his arm around his wife and led her away. Somehow, though, I don’t think it’s going to take the arrival of children to make me appreciate an evening of solitude with Amelie.
My mother invited Uncle Frank to stay for dinner, but he declined, being the last to leave.
“I’m really grateful to you for coming over today, sir,” I say to him, showing him to the front door. “And for helping out.”
He smiles. “Think nothing of it,” he says. “I’m sorry I haven’t been over sooner. I wanted to come and see you in the hospital, but there were things to do at the station in your absence, and then I had to go over to Guildford and cover for Webster while he’s been at Kingston, helping Sergeant Thompson.” As he speaks, I realise how many people have put themselves out on my account, and feel slightly humbled by the thought.
“Th––Thank you, sir,” I stammer.
He puts his hand on my shoulder. “That’s what families are for,” he replies and gives me a knowing smile as he lets himself out.
“Family?” I turn and see Amelie standing by the door to the living room. We’re alone in the hallway and I walk over to her.
“Yes.”
“You’re related to him?” she queries. “I thought…”
