Cherry Blossoms

by Patricia Keyson

  “I think we’ll pull into the bank, in the shade of those trees, and then we’ll be able to enjoy the lunch you brought.” When Cherry had secured the boat to a tree on the bank, she hopped back on the boat and settled on the cushion Oliver had thrown her. He then passed her some pitta bread filled with minted falafel and salad and arranged Moroccan chicken wraps and fruit on a plate, before handing her a glass of wine.

  “To boating!” Oliver raised his glass. “Are you having a good time?”

  Cherry raised hers too. “I am, but I feel sad at the thought of our old home being bought and repaired by some stranger. I suppose things change,” she murmured aloud.

  “They certainly do,” Oliver agreed. It wasn’t so long ago that he’d been besotted by Rebecca and now he barely gave her a thought. All his thoughts were about this lively young woman who looked so serious at this moment. Then there was the hotel.

  “What is it, Oliver? You’re looking thoughtful,” Cherry said.

  “Just thinking how quickly things do change. I was working in the City when my mother died, leaving me the hotel. It was only four months ago. I didn’t know what to do at first. I had a good life there and enjoyed my job. Lots of friends, a good social life. It was a difficult decision to make, but I thought if I didn’t come and try to make a go of the hotel I’d regret it for the rest of my life.”

  Cherry reached for a wrap. “Any regrets about coming here?”

  “None at all,” he said solemnly as he gazed at her.

  “I’m sorry about your mother.”

  Cherry looked away and hoped by changing the subject she wouldn’t say anything she’d regret. Sitting on the gently rocking boat with Oliver just an arm’s reach away was almost more than she could bear. “I can’t really say I ever got to know her, she was quite distant with her employees, from what I’ve heard.”

  “We weren’t close. She was a rather distant mother, too, but I do miss her.” There was a catch in his voice.

  Cherry reached forward and took his hand. She squeezed it gently and was going to pull her hand away when Oliver grasped it firmly. She’d definitely made the right decision leaving Jay behind. Oliver pulled her towards him and gently kissed her. She felt an overwhelming wave of desire as he gazed into her eyes.

  “Cherry, I just want to say . . .”

  But the moment was lost as Cherry leapt up, almost overturning the boat. “Look we’ve drifted from the bank,” she shouted, “and I’ve left the oars there.”

  “Sit down, Cherry, you’re making me seasick. This is ridiculous.” Oliver grinned.

  Cherry sat back down, hot and bothered. “You’ll think me such a fool, not keeping the oars in the boat. We should have brought Jay, he’s got more sense than me.” Hearing Oliver laugh, she saw the funny side of their situation, too, and pulling the cushion out from behind her, threw it at Oliver, almost knocking him off balance.

  “I won’t hold this against you as long as you’re prepared to do the swimming,” Oliver said.

  Cherry tested the water with her hand. “Way too cold for me. Anyway, it’s your outing. I’m prepared to meet you halfway, I’ll apologise for not being much good at tying ropes to trees.”

  Oliver hadn’t enjoyed himself so much for months and was quite happy to dive into the water. All that troubled him was the question of how much clothing to keep dry. He slipped his shirt off and, after a moment’s hesitation, stripped down to his boxers. Jumping in, he rocked the boat and heard Cherry clapping and shouting encouragement. Bobbing up, he pulled the boat back to the bank. Once on dry land he secured the boat and watched as Cherry leapt out clutching his clothes.

  “Here we are, Oliver, slip these back on,” she said holding them out for him. She couldn’t fail to notice his toned, masculine body. Being with him was becoming more and more difficult, especially as she’d told herself she must regard him as her employer and nothing more. Oliver was shivering and reached out for her.

  “Warm me up, Cherry, that water’s freezing.”

  It took all Cherry’s willpower to resist. She turned and stepped back to the boat. “Come on, Oliver, let’s get back in so that I can row us back to the yard. Then we can drive home with the heating on. It might be sunny, but it’s a cold day for May and we don’t want you going down with anything.”

  “This always happens to me,” Oliver said miserably. “I’m always the one who gets wet.”

  Oliver didn’t say much on the drive back to the hotel and Cherry didn’t know whether to chat or keep quiet. They pulled into the staff car park and Oliver slammed on the brakes. “Do you see that?” he said, angrily.

  Cherry couldn’t see anything unusual.

  “That car!”

  It was a red TVR, and meant nothing to Cherry.

  “It belongs to Darius. What the hell’s he doing back so soon?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Oliver was polite enough to open the car door for Cherry before marching off to find out what Darius was up to. Cherry couldn’t see a problem. She’d been surprised when Darius had gone to the conference, but he wasn’t the sort of man, in Cherry’s opinion, to spend a few days being told what to do. Obviously, he didn’t have an overwhelming interest in the hotel business. Hopefully Oliver would have time to change out of his damp jeans before confronting Darius.

  She opened the car boot and started unloading the picnic things. It had been a wonderful time and she’d loved being on the river. Crumpled up on the floor of the boot were Oliver’s socks. He said he couldn’t drive without shoes and he felt uncomfortable in wet socks. It was funny, reflected Cherry, a giggle threatening, how she found even his feet attractive. Tucking the socks into her pocket, she carried the picnic things back into the hotel. After she’d sorted them all out, she headed for the cottage.

  Cherry was delighted to have all these rooms to herself. It was wonderful to have separate bedrooms and more living space. She’d stayed up late the night before trying out the oven. And it was such a luxury to have a washing machine and loads of hot water on tap. Almost without thinking, she ran herself a deep bath, pouring in vanilla and cocoa butter scented oil. Then she dashed to the bedroom for a book and the portable radio. She’d make up for her day at the river being cut short by spending some time in the bath! A luxury she’d been without while living on the boat.

  Very comfortable and warm, Cherry turned the pages of her Scarpetta crime novel, soothed by the piano music playing in the background. Suddenly, she sat upright, splashing water over the side of the bath. What on earth was she doing? Technically, she was still supposed to be at work. Because of her time on the river and the picnic, she’d forgotten that it was a working day out. Oliver had said he needed to know what sort of boats they wanted and how many. Pulling out the plug, she scrambled out of the bath, drenching her book, and dried herself before dressing in cream trousers and a lilac blouse. Her hair had gone frizzy from the humidity in the bathroom, but she had no time to try and tame it properly, just running a brush through it.

  Ten minutes later, she was sitting at the desk in the office, a pad of paper in front of her, chewing on the end of a biro.

  “Ah good, you’ve made a start.” Oliver came into the room, looking smart in a suit again, giving no indication that he’d stormed off, fallen in the river, or kissed her so deliciously.

  Cherry pretended to be engrossed with scribbling lists onto the page and didn’t look up. Eventually, she handed over the pad and said, “Here are my ideas. I hope you’ll find them satisfactory. Now, if it’s all right with you,” she glanced at her watch, “I have to go and pick up Jay.”

  Oliver’s head jerked up. “But I thought he was with Maurice.”

  “They’ve spent the day together, yes, but I can’t expect Maurice to look after him any longer. I think I’ve done all I can here today. If I think of anything further, I’ll make notes this evening and continue tomorrow. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  “Cherry . . .” Oliver started, but she swept out of the r
oom.

  * * *

  “It was great, Mum. You should have been there. I caught a whopper!” Jay exclaimed. “It was that big.” He extended his arms as far as he could.

  “Sounds as though it would have fed us all.”

  “Oh, most fishermen throw their catch back. It’s the thrill of the catch, not the kill,” Jay recited.

  Cherry smiled to herself. Jay and Maurice had evidently had a good time together.

  “What shall we do now, Mum?” They were lounging on the sofa in the cottage watching the news on TV, but Jay was restless.

  “Come on then. I’ll buy you an ice cream at the hotel and you can eat it in the lounge.”

  Jay scrambled to his feet and was out the door before Cherry could switch off the TV and grab her purse.

  * * *

  “Darius! I thought you were away. Look Mum, it’s Darius.”

  “The conference didn’t take your interest then?” enquired Cherry feeling a bit uncomfortable.

  “It was quite boring, Cherry. I thought I’d have more fun playing twenty-one with my mate here, so I came back.” He took a pack of cards from his pocket, shuffled and cut them elaborately and slapped them down on the table. “Ready when you are.”

  “Do you still want that ice cream?” asked Cherry.

  “I’d rather play cards first. Can I, Mum?”

  Cherry left them to it and sank into a deep armchair by the window. Exhausted by all the goings on of the last couple of days, Cherry closed her eyes and tried to relax. Things were going well, she told herself. Jay had enjoyed a good day out and was now having a fun time. They had somewhere great to live and she didn’t need to impose on Pat and Maurice. She promised herself an early night. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be overwhelmed by bad dreams of Oliver. She thought of what might have happened if she hadn’t left the blasted oars on the bank. She remembered Oliver’s face with his inviting lips nearing hers. Finding it unbearable to think of what might have been, she snapped her eyes open. Then wished she hadn’t.

  “Mrs Talbot? What are you doing here?” Cherry struggled out of her reverie and looked up at her worst nightmare.

  “As a matter of fact, I called in for a pot of tea on my way home. I didn’t know you’d be here, I thought you’d be out with Jay as it’s his half-term holiday.”

  Cherry stood up and faced Mrs Talbot. “Yes, he’s . . .”

  But Mrs Talbot didn’t let her finish. “By the look of things, it’s just as well I did call in.” Her lips compressed, and she looked pointedly in the direction of Jay and Darius.

  “Twist,” yelled Jay, while Cherry’s insides twisted.

  “Oh no,” she breathed.

  Just at that moment, Oliver came out of the office and passed through the lounge. He advanced on Cherry and Mrs Talbot. “How do you do? Are you a friend of Cherry?” He beamed his most winning smile at her and extended his hand.

  Short of being rude, Mrs Talbot had to shake hands with him. Cherry, not sure what was going on, but glad of the diversion, introduced her son’s social worker to her boss and explained that Mrs Talbot had just popped in for a pot of tea.

  “But now I find that the child is gambling,” she exclaimed, nodding towards the corner banquette.

  Oliver’s rumble of laughter took Cherry by surprise. “Gambling? Oh no, Mrs Talbot. I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick there. Just a minute.” He darted over to Darius, spoke briefly to him, and then returned. “The man with Jay is my brother. It’s as I thought. Darius is giving Jay some homework. You know, practising adding up, that sort of thing. We used to do it with our parents during the school holidays,” he continued smoothly. “Much better if you can make a game out of these things, I’m sure you agree, Mrs Talbot.”

  Taking up the theme, Cherry said, “Jay does need some help with his arithmetic and Darius was kind enough to volunteer. They only play for matches.” She was so relieved she hadn’t given in and let Jay gamble with pennies. She stole a look at Mrs Talbot who looked uncertain.

  “Good, now that’s settled, would you excuse me?” Oliver took Mrs Talbot’s hand once again. “I hope we’ll have the pleasure of seeing you here again soon.” He carried on through the hotel lounge before disappearing into the kitchen.

  Cherry frowned at Oliver’s strange behaviour, but he’d certainly saved their bacon this time and she sent silent thanks to him. “May I get you that pot of tea, Mrs Talbot?” Cherry asked. She just wanted the woman to go, but didn’t want to be seen to be hurrying her out in case she became suspicious about Oliver’s explanation.

  As Mrs Talbot and Cherry settled down at the table by the window once again, one of the waitresses appeared and deposited a bounteous tray in front of them.

  “What’s this?” gasped Mrs Talbot. “I only wanted a cup of tea.”

  “Mr Fingle’s compliments, madam. He thought you both deserved a full cream tea.”

  They looked at the warm scones, pots of cream, and strawberry jam. “This looks scrumptious,” said Cherry, despite feeling it was a little late to be serving up a cream tea. But she was delighted to see Mrs Talbot reaching for a plate. Cherry picked up the large teapot and poured a cup of steaming tea, handing it across the table.

  “These scones are delicious. It’s ages since I had a cream tea,” said Mrs Talbot. “In fact, it’s ages since I had lunch.” She took a large bite of scone, leaving a trace of cream and jam on the end of her nose. Cherry laughed and passed her a napkin. Maybe she wasn’t such an awful woman after all. She must have to deal with all sorts of people and Cherry was certain that it was the child’s welfare which mattered most to her.

  Cherry took a deep breath. “I’d like to thank you for keeping an eye on Jay. I know it’s your job to make sure that the children are looked after properly. I’m sorry if I’ve been less than helpful to you in the past.”

  “Believe me, Cherry, I’ve come across a lot worse people than you.” Well, that was a backhanded compliment if ever there was one, but Mrs Talbot didn’t seem to realise her gaffe. “As a matter of fact, I remember my own father taking me shopping in order to improve my arithmetical skills. I became very accomplished at mental arithmetic. Won a prize for it.”

  Even having moved forward with her opinion of Mrs Talbot, Cherry still had difficulty trying to picture her as a schoolgirl.

  As she grinned, Mrs Talbot said, “Cherry, since you’ve been living here, you seem a lot happier. I never did like the idea of you both living on a boat. It didn’t seem suitable somehow. And, of course, the water can be so dangerous.” A small frown clouded her face. Leaning forward, she confided, “I had a very nasty experience in a boat once, you know.”

  Cherry didn’t know, and couldn’t imagine. All she could think of was the wonderful time she’d had in boats. First of all living on one and then with Oliver earlier that day.

  “And that little lad of yours seems very happy and settled here,” continued Mrs Talbot. She took another giant bite of scone and settled back in her chair.

  Cherry looked over at Darius and Jay. Her mouth fell open as she saw Oliver sitting on the edge of the table, chatting and laughing with them. Considering how annoyed he’d been with his brother not long before, Cherry could only suppose that Oliver was putting on a show for Mrs Talbot. Oliver caught her look and gave a thumbs up, along with a brilliant smile. Cherry’s heart soared.

  Chapter Twelve

  Oliver was enjoying sitting in the office with Cherry after all the ups and downs of the previous day. It was a sunny afternoon and beams of sunshine caught the motes of dust dancing in the air. He was still very angry with Darius and his attitude to the hotel and the conference, but felt good about his interception of Mrs Talbot and the happy outcome. Cherry had an extra spring in her step. He was hoping her good mood would include him. He wondered if he should invite her for dinner that evening. They could go to a quiet restaurant in town and get to know each other better. Although he already felt he knew her well, it would be good to spend some prop
er time together.

  Cherry was reading through her notes. “So I ordered the boats this morning, the fishing rights are being dealt with by your solicitor, and I’m taking delivery of ten bicycles tomorrow morning. The renovation of the old chalets is starting next week and the planning application has gone in for those pine cabins we’re going to build in the wood. The builder wants to start on the roadway in July as he’s sure we’ll get permission for the cabins. Oh, yes, and the contractor is going to start work improving the bank for the moorings of visiting boats. I think that’s everything for now, but we must think about the brochure for next year. We need to start sending them out soon. I thought we’d take some photos of the river, try and catch its mood at different times of the day. Then in the coming year we can catch the seasons ready for the next year’s brochure. We need pictures of people fishing, boating and cycling.”

  As she talked he watched her hair bobbing round her face and the way she frowned a little when she was thinking. He wanted to smooth away the frown lines with his fingers and kiss her lips to take her mind away from the hotel and back to him.

  “Oliver!”

  “Sorry, I . . .”

  “You weren’t listening to a word I said. I just asked you a question. If you’re not going to take any notice of me I might as well give up.” She flung her notepad on the desk.

  “I’m sorry, I was preoccupied. I was thinking. Isn’t it good about Mrs Talbot and how she seems to be off your back at last?”

  “Mmm, all down to your cream tea. If I’d known the way to her heart was through food I’d have tried it months ago. All I had to do was offer her a ginger nut and she’d have left Jay and me alone.” Cherry giggled. “I can’t thank you enough. It’s such a relief to know I won’t lose Jay. If I can ever help you out . . .”

  “There is one thing.” Oliver made his way round the desk and took her hand.

  The door burst open and Darius came crashing in. “Ah, there you are, Oliver, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”