‘Tell me!’
‘Sit down.’
‘You’re worrying me,’ she said as she sat down in the living room. She noticed he was still standing. ‘Tell me what’s going on.’
‘It’s Jenna. She’s in hospital.’
‘Oh, no! What happened?’
‘She tried to OD.’
‘Oh, Jonathan. Is she okay?’
‘She’s stable now. They’ve got things under control.’
‘Who found her?’
‘A friend she was meant to meet up with. The friend found a bottle of pills and called an ambulance.’
Vanessa got up from the chair as tears began to fill her eyes.
‘I knew something wasn’t right with her. I should have stayed when I dropped her home.’
She reached up to caress his face. ‘You can’t be with them all the time. You have to let them live their own lives.’
‘Even if that means them tossing those lives away?’
‘She’s going to be all right, Jonathan.’ She placed her hands on his. He was shaking. ‘Let’s sit down, shall we?’
She guided him to the sofa and they sat next to each other. She ran a hand through his hair and studied his face. She’d never seen him like this before and was thankful that he’d called her because she would have hated knowing that he’d gone through something like this alone.
‘Are you okay?’ she whispered after they’d been sitting there in silence for a good few minutes.
He nodded, but he looked miles away.
‘Jonathan?’
He turned to look at her. ‘She’s going to be okay,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ Vanessa told him. ‘You’ve done all you can.’
He shook his head. ‘I should have read the signs. If anyone should have read them, it was me.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked. ‘Jonathan? Has this happened to you before?’
Between Vanessa asking the question and Jonathan answering it, there seemed to be the most agonising void of time. Then he sighed and turned to look at her, the pain in his eyes almost too much for Vanessa to bear.
‘Rachelle,’ he said simply.
‘The woman in the photo?’
He nodded. ‘I couldn’t help her, Vanessa. I couldn’t help her!’ A tear rolled down his cheek and he turned his head away.
‘Shush,’ she said, putting her arms around him.
‘I loved her, but I couldn’t save her.’
Vanessa continued to hold him, now understanding that this was why he worked so hard for his team – because he’d lost someone he cared about deeply.
‘I noticed you’d moved her picture,’ she said gently.
‘I didn’t want you to get upset by it,’ he said, a little more composed now as he wiped a hand across his face.
‘I wouldn’t get upset by it,’ she told him. ‘You have a right to a past just as I have.’
‘But I don’t want to live in it anymore.’ He gave a great sigh. ‘I want to tell you something, Vanessa. Something that might change your opinion of me.’
She looked at him, wondering what he could mean by that. ‘You know you can tell me anything,’ she said, ‘and I won’t judge you.’
He shook his head. ‘Don’t make any promises you can’t keep.’
‘Jonathan—’
‘No, listen to me first.’ His eyes locked with hers and they were cool and earnest. ‘It was a week after Rachelle overdosed. I wasn’t coping with losing her. Her parents blamed me and it got pretty ugly at one point.’ He ran a hand over his face and then continued.
‘I got horribly drunk one night and got in the car. It was a stupid thing to do, but I wasn’t thinking straight. I just had to get out of the house. It felt so empty without her. I’m not sure where I drove, but I hit the main road and went a fair few miles before turning off, God knows where, and that’s when I crashed.’
‘Oh, Jonathan! Were you hurt?’
‘I should have been. I hit a tree by the side of the road and wrote off the car.’
‘But you were okay?’
He nodded. ‘The point is, I could have killed somebody.’
‘But you didn’t.’
‘I was totally out of control. It makes me shudder when I think about it.’
‘You were going through a rough time,’ she told him.
‘But I shouldn’t have gone out in that state. I put others in danger. It was a bad decision.’ He paused and let out a great sigh. ‘You see, I know what it’s like to lose control and I can see how people make bad decisions. It can happen to anyone.’
‘God, Jonathan. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through, losing Rachelle like that, but you’ve turned yourself around and you’re helping others to do the same.’
‘But I wasn’t there for Jenna when she needed me.’
Vanessa’s heart ached for him. ‘You can’t possibly be there for all of them all the time. It’s like being a parent. You do your best – your very best – but you have to give them space, and hope that you’ve guided them and encouraged them and given them the tools they need to make good choices. That’s all you can do. But you do more than that too, you know? You show them that there are amazing things in the world. You show them beautiful things which enrich their lives. You do so much good, Jonathan.’
He looked up at her. His eyes were rimmed red.
‘This is why I didn’t want you getting involved with her, Vanessa. I know how much it hurts.’
‘But you can’t go around not getting involved with people on the off-chance that they might hurt you. Life doesn’t work like that. Not for me, anyway,’ she told him softly. ‘And Jenna’s going to be okay.’
‘I know,’ he said at last.
‘And you are too.’
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it and they sat in silence for a few minutes before Vanessa got up.
‘Shall I make us some tea?’
Jonathan nodded and made to get up.
‘I’ll do it,’ she said quickly, but he followed her through to the kitchen and got mugs from the cupboard.
A few minutes later, they sat at the table together.
‘You okay?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘I’m sorry I—’
‘Don’t apologise,’ she said. ‘You know, I’ve been thinking.’
He looked at her inquisitively.
‘There’s something we could do.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean for Jenna. To really help her.’
‘Go on,’ he said.
‘Well, you know we need more help in the garden?’
‘Yeah,’ he said slowly.
‘I’ve been thinking, if we open it to the public, even if it’s just for weekends and public holidays, we’ll have money coming in. We could afford to pay her and you. She could be your assistant. Your trainee. I’ve seen what a great worker she is and she loves learning from you.’
‘You’d really want to do that? I mean, have me and Jenna working for you?’
‘Of course I would. I’d love to have you there as Orley’s gardener,’ she said, reaching across the table and holding his hand. ‘I mean, if you want the job.’
‘You sure you could afford that? I hate to be so base and to talk about money and everything.’
‘No, no. It’s okay. I don’t want there to be any awkwardness between us. But I could definitely afford two part-timers. We’ve got money from selling the north wing and I really think we could make a go of it if we opened to the public. Maybe we could even sell plants and cut flowers. What do you think?’
Jonathan didn’t need long to think about it. ‘It’s a great idea. It’ll keep me close to you too.’
‘You can fit me into your timetable, then?’
‘Are you kidding? There’s nothing I’d rather do than spend time with you at Orley.’
‘You know, I sometimes think you only like me for my garden,’ she teased.
He smiled. ‘So you’ve found me
out!’
She got up from the table and took his face in her hands and kissed him. ‘I’m happy to share my garden with you. And my life.’
His expression softened at her declaration. ‘What on earth did I do to deserve you?’
She stroked her fingers through his hair. ‘Just being you was all it took.’
By the time Vanessa got home, it was after seven in the morning. It didn’t seem right to go back to bed even though she felt exhausted. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. She had too much going on in her mind what with Jenna in hospital, Jonathan’s confession and her idea to hire them both to help in the garden.
She went upstairs to take a shower and change into fresh clothes and, by the time she came downstairs, Dolly and her daughters were in the morning room.
‘You’re up late, Mum,’ Jassy said.
Vanessa smiled. ‘You wouldn’t say that if you knew the truth.’
‘What truth?’
‘I’ve been up for hours. I spent most of the night at Jonathan’s.’
‘Disgraceful,’ Dolly said through a mouthful of cornflakes.
Tilda spluttered on her orange juice. ‘Mum!’
‘It’s not what you think,’ Vanessa said quickly and calmly. ‘I’m afraid there was a crisis in the night.’
‘What crisis?’
‘Jenna overdosed.’ The news was greeted by gasps. ‘She’s okay! She’s in hospital. They got her there in time.’
‘Are you going to see her?’ Tilda asked.
‘Jonathan thinks it’s best if I wait till she’s home. He’s going to visit her today and let us know what’s going on.’
‘What happened?’ Tilda asked.
‘We think it was something to do with her boyfriend, Carl. She’s been unhappy for a while.’
‘I always knew those kids were no good,’ Dolly said. ‘It’s obvious one of them would get into some sort of trouble sooner or later.’
‘Dolly, how can you say such a thing?’ Vanessa said, staring at her mother-in-law in undisguised horror.
‘Because that’s who they are. Don’t be so naive, Vanessa. You can’t hope to change them by getting them to hoe some weeds and plant a few cabbages.’
‘But you’ve spent time with them. I thought you cared about them.’
‘Yes, but I haven’t made the mistake of getting close to them like you have.’
‘No, you never like getting close to anyone, do you?’
Dolly chose to ignore this remark. ‘They’re the kind of people who hurt others and you’d do well to remember that.’
‘I don’t need this right now, okay?’
‘You’ve always been one to bury your head in the sand. That’s your trouble.’
‘And you’ve always been one to point out all my faults!’ Vanessa countered. ‘But no more, Dolly. I’ve really had enough. You have no right to criticise me in my own home.’
‘Oh, your home is it?’
‘Please don’t start that again.’
‘I’m not starting anything, I’m merely—’
‘STOP!’
The voice startled the fighting women into instant silence as they stared at Jassy, who was now up on her feet.
‘Why are you so mean, Grandma?’ Jassy said. ‘You’re always so mean, especially to Mum, which isn’t fair. She does her best and she’s doing a bloody good job too, but you just pick and pick at her and it’s not right!’
Dolly looked totally stunned by her granddaughter’s sudden outburst.
‘Jasmine, I—’
‘I can’t understand why you’re never happy. I know Dad died and we all miss him so much it actually hurts here sometimes,’ she said, squeezing her abdomen in an alarming fashion, ‘but we try and keep going. We’re there for each other. Or at least we should be. Sometimes, Grandma, it seems like you don’t want to be a part of this family.’
‘What?’ Dolly said.
‘You pick on Mum all the time. She’s sad too, you know. If you cared, you’d know that. You’d talk to her rather than shout at her. It’s the same with Jonathan’s team. If you were nice to them – if you gave them a chance and just talked to them – you’d realise they were really good people.’
Vanessa could feel her eyes filling with tears at her daughter’s rather marvellous defence of her. Tilda was looking on in amazement, her mouth open but no words coming out.
There was silence for a moment as none of them spoke for fear of Jassy starting up again. Vanessa hadn’t seen her daughter quite so impassioned since she was a young child and less capable of controlling her emotions. It had taken years of patient teaching to get Jassy to understand that emotional outbursts weren’t the norm, but Vanessa wasn’t going to correct her daughter today because she felt that she had done exactly the right thing and, although a part of her couldn’t help feeling sorry for Dolly, a large part of her was glad that Jassy had spoken out. It was about time that Dolly realised just what an effect she had on people.
A scrape of the chair, and Dolly was standing up. Vanessa and her daughters watched, waiting to see what she would do and say. But she didn’t say anything and her face was a perfect blank.
They watched as she turned around and slowly walked out of the room. It was hard for Vanessa not to go and try to somehow comfort her after Jassy’s tirade, but another part of her, the part that had been battered and bruised by Dolly over the years, kept her seated.
She looked across the table at Tilda and Jassy.
‘Sorry,’ Jassy said once her grandmother was out of the room. ‘Was I wrong?’
‘No,’ Vanessa told her. ‘A little unexpected, perhaps.’
‘But she was picking on you. I hate it when she does that.’
‘Me too,’ Tilda said.
‘You never say anything, Mum. You just take it,’ Jassy cried.
Vanessa felt quite helpless under her daughter’s scrutiny. ‘I just try to keep the peace.’
‘I would have said something a lot sooner if I were you,’ Jassy insisted.
‘Me too,’ Tilda said.
Jassy looked at her sister. ‘Well, you could have chipped in!’
Tilda looked stunned by this. ‘I don’t think I’d have dared go up against Grandma like that.’
‘No, you were pretty impressive, Jassy!’ Vanessa said.
‘How come you’ve never stuck up for Mum, Tilly?’ Jassy asked.
‘What?’
‘Why haven’t you said anything to Grandma before?’
Tilda looked a little embarrassed by the question. ‘I – well – I guess I’ve always been a little afraid of her.’
‘Me too, darling,’ Vanessa said.
‘And you’ve always been closer to her,’ Tilda added. ‘You can get away with more than I can.’
‘You think?’ Jasmine said.
‘Definitely!’
‘Of course, you’ll have to apologise to her,’ Vanessa said.
‘You’re joking!’
Vanessa shook her head. ‘I’m not. You’ll have to make sure she’s okay and that she’s not brooding.’
Jassy didn’t look pleased by this request.
‘But maybe not just yet,’ Vanessa added. ‘I think we can let her brood for just a little while.’
It wasn’t until after dark that Jassy ventured into Dolly’s quarters. Jassy had just painted a brutal abstract and was now feeling miserable as she remembered her earlier outburst, which was funny because it had left her feeling exhilarated at the time. She’d never understood how feelings could swing from one extreme to the other so quickly. It was baffling. But she knew she had to apologise. Even if her mother hadn’t asked her to, Jassy knew it was the right thing to do.
She knocked on the door and, when there was no reply, went inside.
‘Grandma?’ she called. She’d learned not to just charge into the room as her grandmother often dozed off in her chair. As a child, Jassy hadn’t been able to understand why a grown-up needed to sleep during the day, but she was
used to it now and took extra care.
Reynolds was by her feet in an instant and Jassy bent down to pick him up, her chin receiving a few enthusiastic licks.
‘Jasmine? Is that you?’
‘Yes, Grandma.’ She walked forward, the dog still in her arms.
‘I was asleep,’ Dolly said, her face holding the softness of a gentle nap.
Jassy sat down on the chair opposite, Reynolds settling into her lap.
‘You’ve been painting?’
‘Of course.’
Dolly nodded. ‘Good.’
‘You should paint too,’ Jassy told her.
‘I’m too old to learn now.’
‘No you’re not. Nobody’s ever too old to learn anything. I don’t know why people say that. Anyway, it would do you good – get rid of your madness.’
Dolly frowned. ‘I’m not mad!’
‘Not as in crazy,’ Jassy said. ‘I didn’t mean that. I meant madness as in anger. You know, how you’re always cross. Painting would make you feel better.’
Dolly shook her head. ‘I’m not going to learn to paint, Jasmine.’
Jassy sighed. ‘Well, don’t say I didn’t try.’ Her eyes glanced around the room as they usually did. There was always plenty to take note of, from the pretty pieces of silver and china to the large paintings that she loved to stare at, absorbing their colours and textures and wondering about the people from the past who had painted them. But then she remembered why she was there.
‘Sorry,’ she said.
‘Pardon?’
‘Mum said – I mean – I wanted to say I was sorry. For shouting at you. You know – before.’
‘Yes, I remember,’ Dolly said.
Neither of them said anything for a moment. Dolly stared out of her window at a garden she could no longer see in the darkness and Jassy continued to tickle Reynolds.
‘Jasmine, I . . .’ Dolly paused.
‘What?’
‘I don’t mean to be mad – I mean cross.’
‘Don’t you?’ Jassy was genuinely confused by this confession. Emotions, as far as she was concerned, should always be real and true and it baffled her that adults would sometimes muddle them all up, shouting at those whom they protested to love and laughing at things which weren’t funny.
‘It’s just that I sometimes feel . . .’ She gave a sigh and Jassy watched as her grandma twisted her large knotty fingers together. Jassy had sketched those hands on several occasions. They fascinated her, but they made her feel sad too because she’d look down at her own hands and wondered if they would look like her grandmother’s one day and, if they ever did, would she still be able to hold a paintbrush?
Love in an English Garden Page 26
