A Way Back Home

by Alison Sherlock

  ‘I was just sorting out some material and then my sister rang.’

  She was smiling but her eyes were looking red and she had obviously been crying.

  He made up his mind instantly. ‘Right, you’d better get your coat on. We’re going out.’

  ‘What?’ Skye looked confused. ‘Where?’

  ‘To the pub. You haven’t eaten, have you?’

  ‘No, but…’

  ‘Everyone’s out and I need to eat,’ he told her. ‘Come on. Get your skates on.’

  He waited downstairs whilst she quickly changed into a different pair of leggings and a cream sparkly tunic. Then they got into the Range Rover and headed down the bumpy track towards the main driveway.

  ‘So why are we going out?’ she asked. ‘Is there something at the pub you need me to look at?’

  ‘Yes,’ he replied, turning the car onto the driveway. ‘We both need to see a change of four walls, a menu and a large drink.’

  Her shocked silence continued all the way to the pub, which thankfully was only on the other side of Cranley village.

  They stepped inside the quaint pub. It wasn’t overly busy for a cold Tuesday night but was welcome and cosy thanks to the oak beams and numerous fireplaces. Luckily, somebody had just vacated two soft chairs by one of the roaring fires.

  ‘You grab those,’ said Will, turning to the bar. ‘I’ll get the drinks in.’

  Skye found one of the big armchairs next to the fire and, when he returned, Will shrugged his coat off. He sat down and held out her gin and tonic. When she took it from him, he picked up his Diet Coke and clinked it against her glass.

  ‘Happy birthday.’

  She gave a start. ‘How did you know it was my birthday?’ she stammered.

  He gave her a sheepish look. ‘I overheard Summer singing down the phone to you earlier.’

  Even in the dim light, he could see the blush extending over her pale cheeks.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone?’ he asked.

  She shrugged her shoulders. ‘It’s not important. Besides, I’ve intruded on your family enough, don’t you think?’

  Will was a bit taken aback at being reminded of those words which he’d spoken to her on the very first day she’d arrived. It felt like a lifetime ago. ‘Look, about all that. I’m sorry, okay? You’ve got to learn to ignore most of what I say. It’s all rubbish.’

  She broke into an unexpected smile. ‘I do most of the time but sometimes a little seeps in.’

  ‘Well, you need to work on that,’ he told her, in a mock stern voice. ‘If you’re going to listen to everything I tell you, the lodge will never be done up.’

  Expecting another quip, he was surprised when she leant back in her chair studying him. She took another sip of gin and tonic before saying, ‘You don’t have a lot of confidence in yourself, do you?’

  He raised his eyebrows in response.

  ‘I mean, you have that cheeky charm but the self-deprecating humour masks quite a bit of sadness,’ she told him.

  He took his time before he replied. ‘Possibly. What’s your excuse?’

  ‘You’re changing the subject,’ she told him, shaking her head.

  ‘Ah, you got that, did you?’

  She smiled. ‘Yeah, you’re really not that subtle.’

  ‘Well, I never pretended to be.’ He nodded at the glass in her hand. ‘Why don’t you have some more of your gin? It might stop you from gaining any more insightful knowledge.’

  She took a sip of her drink before changing the subject to her plans for decorating the bathroom.

  They enjoyed a lovely meal. Skye relished every mouthful of the chicken pie and Will found that the burger and chips equally hit the spot. He deliberately kept the conversation light during the meal, chatting about the lodge and the builders. Even regaling her with the stories of the disastrous initial building renovations that had happened in the previous year on the main house. Then, once they’d enjoyed a delicious sticky toffee pudding each, Will asked her once again about why she hadn’t told anyone about her birthday.

  Skye sipped her water before looking at the fire next to them. ‘Summer’s been busy studying these past few years. It’s never been a big deal anyway and seemed even less so recently.’

  ‘I bet you celebrated her birthday though.’

  She looked at him. ‘Of course we did. I thought one of us deserved the effort when Maggie certainly never remembers her own daughters’ birthdays.’

  ‘But what about you?’ he asked. ‘When does it ever become about you?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m happy being in the background.’

  ‘Or maybe you’ve just never let yourself be front and centre.’

  ‘It’s difficult,’ she told him. ‘Holidays and birthdays are the worst; do you know what I mean? Everything’s highlighted. Shoved in your face. Happy families gathered together in lovely homes.’ She sighed, her face momentarily bleak. ‘My father didn’t want me. My mother not much more. They never show that side of life on all those cheery Christmas movies, do they?’

  ‘I try not to watch them,’ he said.

  She shook her head. ‘That’s because you have all that already.’

  Now it was his turn to sigh. ‘Sometimes it isn’t what you think. Sometimes the happy family is a lie. All fake.’

  She looked confused. ‘I don’t see that with Arthur, Rose or Sam.’

  He felt a chill run over his body despite the heat from the fire. ‘I’m not talking about them.’

  She remained quiet whilst he wondered if he could trust her. He realised he could.

  ‘My mother had an affair,’ he said.

  Her reaction was muted, for which he was grateful. ‘How did you find out?’ she finally asked.

  ‘I saw her kiss another man. It was at a party at Willow Tree Hall.’ He took a deep, shaky breath. ‘It was about a month before they died. I was so angry at her. I didn’t tell her that I knew, but I was absolutely foul for the next few weeks. And then they died.’

  ‘And you never got to say you were sorry,’ she said, guessing the truth.

  He looked at her, unable to reply.

  ‘Did you tell Sam?’ she asked. ‘Anyone?’

  Will shook his head in reply.

  ‘How old were you?’ she asked.

  ‘Eleven.’

  ‘Maybe that’s all it was,’ she said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, perhaps the affair never went as far as you imagined it did. Did you ever think of that?’

  He blinked at her. ‘No,’ he said, his voice suddenly hoarse. Had he read too much into the situation? He didn’t know.

  ‘Well, at least it finally explains a few things,’ she told him.

  ‘Like what?’ he asked.

  ‘Like why you keep running away from this amazing family,’ she said. ‘Like why you don’t let anyone in. Why everything’s a joke and nothing’s to be taken seriously.’

  ‘I figure it stops any more hurt,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I’m not sure there’s room for any more in this family.’

  ‘Perhaps if you spoke to Rose or your grandad…’ she began.

  But he shook his head and cut her off. ‘No. I won’t hurt them. They’ve been through enough.’

  ‘Well, that’s a pretty big burden for one man to carry,’ she said sadly.

  ‘Haven’t you noticed how broad my shoulders are?’ he told her, deliberately making the conversation more cheerful. After all, it was her birthday. ‘Especially after all this work on the lodge.’ He flexed his arm muscles and he was grateful that she laughed.

  She hesitated before speaking again. ‘You know, my arms are getting much stronger as well, after all the work on the paintings. Just in case you ever need another shoulder to lean on.’

  He understood what she was telling him and was grateful. ‘Thanks.’

  She blushed. ‘Well, thank you for my birthday meal.’

  He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘You know that you�
�re paying, right?’

  She laughed. ‘I don’t mind.’

  But he shook his head. ‘No way. I was just kidding. Dinner’s on me. See?’ he added. ‘I’m not that bad a guy after all, am I?’

  She took a beat. ‘You have your moments. Once a year perhaps.’

  ‘Well, I’ll see you next birthday,’ he told her.

  But as her face dropped slightly, he realised that she wouldn’t be living with the family in a year’s time. That Skye would have moved on and that he would have needed to as well.

  And he realised for the first time, how much he was going to miss her when she left.

  36

  On Will’s instructions, Skye spent the following morning working on the bedroom furniture in the lodge. He had been most insistent that she didn’t go to the ballroom that day. She was sure that he was up to something but she had no idea what it could be.

  When she came downstairs later that morning, she found a wrapped parcel on the kitchen table with her name on the tag.

  ‘It’s for you,’ said Will, appearing out of the lounge, holding a steaming mug of coffee in his hands.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  ‘Open it and see,’ he told her gently.

  Feeling like a kid at Christmas, she ripped off the wrapping and revealed a pair of purple wellington boots.

  Skye laughed. ‘They’re great! Thank you so much.’

  ‘And I got the colour right,’ said Will, with a wink.

  Skye touched her hair which was slowly fading back to pale blonde. ‘Not so much these days,’ she told him.

  ‘I had noticed,’ he said.

  ‘You’re probably pleased to have me looking vaguely normal, I suppose,’ she said in a teasing tone.

  But to her surprise, he shook his head. ‘You’ve got great hair whatever the colour,’ he told her. They looked at each other for a beat before he abruptly turned around, putting down his mug. ‘Come on then. Time for lunch.’

  Will appeared to be in hurry as they headed over to the hall, which she didn’t understand until they walked through the back door into the kitchen. There, to her surprise, she found everyone standing up to sing “Happy Birthday” to her.

  ‘Thank you,’ she told them all, when they’d finished. She felt quite overcome with emotion from their warmth and love.

  ‘You should have let us know!’ cried Annie, stepping forward to give her a hug.

  ‘Yes, that was very naughty of you,’ said Rose.

  In fact, the whole family fussed around her and gave her hugs. Finally, when she broke free, she gave Will a mock glare.

  He held his hands up. ‘Don’t blame me!’ he said, grinning. ‘Okay, maybe blame me!’

  ‘Blabbermouth,’ she told him, smiling.

  As she turned around, she realised Eleanor was there. ‘Happy birthday for yesterday,’ she said. ‘This is Tom. I don’t think you two have met.’

  ‘Hi,’ said Tom, smiling at her. ‘Happy birthday.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, a little shocked at having one of the most famous singers in the world standing in the kitchen with them and probably having sung “Happy Birthday” to her as well.

  Tom Kingsley was known throughout the world as Tommy King, global singing sensation and one of Sam’s artists, who had hit the very big time a few years previously. He was also Eleanor’s boyfriend.

  The next second, a grey and white blur rushed up to Skye and wrapped himself around her legs.

  ‘Dylan!’ said Tom, grabbing the dog’s collar before he could snaffle one of the presents on the table.

  ‘Watch that he doesn’t steal the bacon!’ shouted Eleanor, above the general melee.

  It was a noisy, lively lunch of bacon butties, tea and coffee. Plus, to Skye’s embarrassment, quite a few presents as well.

  ‘You really shouldn’t have,’ she murmured, as she realised the pile of presents were all for her.

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Rose. ‘You’ve done so much for us already. Here, open mine first.’

  That turned out to be a bottle of perfume and a box of purple hair dye. Arthur gave her a pair of wellie socks and some bubble bath. Sam and Annie’s gift was a beautiful blanket of the softest dove grey. Skye’s immediate thought was how lovely it would look in the lounge of the lodge. Eleanor gave her a goody basket of various creams and soaps, all of which smelt wonderful. Megan turned up later that morning with a handmade card from the children, which was very sweet, as well as a large box of chocolates.

  After the hubbub had died down and the rest of the family had begun to peel away to their various activities, Skye, Annie and her friends had an enjoyable afternoon painting jam jars with heart stencils ready to have tealights placed in them at the wedding.

  ‘A craft day is so much fun without the children,’ said Megan, with a satisfied sigh. ‘No nappies to change either.’

  ‘I’m really enjoying all this kind of thing,’ said Annie. ‘Perhaps we should open up a stall at one of the stables.’

  ‘And be my competition?’ said Eleanor, laughing.

  ‘No such luck with my painting skills,’ said Megan.

  *

  Later on that afternoon, Skye headed out into the woods and was just carrying an armful of branches when she almost bumped into Will.

  ‘More kindling?’ he asked, nodding at the wood.

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ she told him. ‘They’re for the wedding.’

  He easily removed the majority of the branches from her. ‘So where do you want them?’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, glancing down at her jumper which was now covered in pieces of bark and mud. ‘They need drying off before they can be sprayed. I can take them back to the lodge later.’

  ‘If you put this lot in our tiny lounge there’ll be no room for us.’ Will nodded in thought. ‘Come on. I’ve got an idea.’

  He let her open the French doors on the back of the patio that led into the entrance hall. To her surprise he turned left across the stairs.

  ‘I’m not sure Annie will want all this in her lovely new kitchen,’ said Skye.

  But Will turned into the room next to the dining room and placed the branches down on a pile of boxes.

  ‘Nobody ever uses the sitting room,’ he told her, gesturing at the boxes. ‘As you can see, it’s a bit of a dumping ground. I’m sure they’ll be fine in here.’

  ‘That’s great,’ said Skye, thinking how handy it would be now that the wedding decorations were beginning to pile up. It was a large room of which only half was occupied with boxes of all shapes and sizes.

  ‘We can bring in the table you used for the ballroom so you can work on that,’ said Will. ‘And the fireplace works as well, so you won’t get cold.’

  Skye nodded. ‘Sounds great. What would I do without you?’

  ‘Thankfully we’ll never find out,’ he said.

  They had only been joking as they always did. But suddenly there was a long silence. A silence to end all silences as they stared at each other.

  I don’t want to leave, thought Skye. I want to stay here with the Harris family. At Willow Tree Hall. In our lovely lodge.

  And with Will. I don’t want to leave Will.

  She could swear that he was thinking the same thing as his blue eyes continued to stare at her.

  But then he blinked back to life and added, ‘At least until after the wedding.’

  She could feel the bump as she was brought down to earth. Of course it was just about the wedding. He wanted the best for his brother and she understood that.

  ‘Lots of work to do until then,’ she said, in an overly bright tone of voice.

  ‘We’ll make it wedding headquarters in here,’ he was saying, as Annie came into the room.

  ‘Ooh, I like the sound of that,’ she said, heading across to where Will had dumped the branches. ‘Are these the ones to be sprayed?’

  Skye nodded. ‘They’ll need drying out for a day or two but most of them have got lovely shapes and have extra branch
es to hang lights and things from.’

  ‘This is great,’ said Annie. ‘And it’s so original too.’

  ‘And with half the woods inside, it really is a true Willow Tree Hall wedding,’ said Will, giving Skye a wink before leaving the room.

  ‘It’s great that you’re both getting on so much better,’ said Annie, as she looked through the branches.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Skye, suddenly embarrassed. ‘Do you think so?’

  Annie smiled. ‘Will doesn’t suffer fools gladly or many people, come to think of it. It takes a lot to earn his trust.’

  Still blushing, Skye quickly changed the subject to ask about moving a few boxes around so that she could set up a table in there.

  But all the while her mind was thinking about leaving Willow Tree Hall and Will. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the realisation of how sad that would make her feel.

  37

  Will found that he and Skye had settled into an easy routine. Each day, whilst Will worked on the lodge, Skye would head up to the main house and carry on cleaning up the paintings and working on the decorations for the wedding. Once she had finished her day’s work at the main house, Skye would then start work on the interior design for the lodge.

  By the end of November, she had managed to completely restore three whole walls of paintings which had now been carefully packed away so that Alex’s team of decorators could paint the ceilings and walls.

  Late one afternoon, Will found her in the garage, struggling to carry a dark, ugly bedside cabinet outside.

  ‘Look what I’ve found,’ she said, staggering under the weight. ‘And there’s a matching one over there.’

  Will stared down at the battered cabinet and grimaced. ‘Are you sure we can’t just use it for firewood?’

  She shook her head and put the cabinet down, stretching out her back. ‘I know it looks awful now, but once it’s sanded down and repainted, it’ll look lovely.’

  ‘Don’t you ever ask for help?’ asked Will, marching over to pick it up.

  ‘No. Of course not,’ she replied, pulling out the other cabinet from under a whole load of boxes.

  ‘Look, I know you’re strong and capable,’ said Will, putting down one cabinet to help her with the other. ‘Who are you trying to prove this to?’