“Is there something on your mind granddad?”
“Hmm?” he looked up, innocence personified.
“Well you’ve rinsed that plate about five times now.”
“Have I?” he smiled ruefully.
“Yes, you have. Now spit it out.”
He put the plate down and turned to her.
“I just don’t want to see you hurt my girl.”
She was unsure why he was saying this, so she just nodded and said, “I know you don’t.”
“I don’t think now is the time to get into anything new.”
“Granddad, you’ve lost me. Are you talking about selling my paintings? If you’re worried I’ll be upset if nobody buys any its fine. I’m not expecting great things from it, hopefully the odd sale.”
“No not your paintings. Your paintings are wonderful and I wouldn’t at all be surprised if they become highly sought after.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“You know, relationships and stuff”
She looked at him blankly.
He sighed.
“James” he said, “it was perfectly obvious that he liked you”
Then he watched in bewilderment as she laughed so hard and for so long he became worried the baby might pop right out onto the kitchen floor.
“What?” he asked, “what’s so funny?”
“Granddad,” she said eventually through the odd hiccup after she had calmed down enough to speak, “James is more likely to be interested in dating you than me”
It took a moment to sink in but then she saw understanding dawn on her grandfather’s brow.
‘You mean –?”
She nodded.
“Oh” he chuckled. “That’s ok then.”
Ivy walked over and kissed her granddad on the forehead.
“Don’t worry” she said, “this baby is my number one priority. You, my wonderful man, are number two. I don’t need anyone else.”
He put his arms around her and gave her a hug, kissing the top of her beautiful dark head.
So the next morning when he answered the phone and heard James on the other end he passed it over to Ivy without complaint, happy that she was at least making a friend and he didn’t need to worry about any complications clouding Ivy’s life when she least needed it.
Besides, he’d seen how Walt had looked at his granddaughter in the supermarket, and how she’d looked back at him. There was still something there between those two. Over the years that Ivy had been away Walt had kept in touch, popping round once a week or so for coffee or a beer. Sometimes he would notice something that needed fixing, perhaps a stuck drawer in the kitchen or a loose board on the deck, and he would be back the next day with the tools to fix it. When Leo had his first stroke it was Walt who had found him and called the ambulance. When Leo was back home recovering Walt checked on him every day, bringing him groceries and precooked meals from his mother that he’d just needed to defrost and heat before eating.
At the start Walt would always, without fail, ask after Ivy. He would try and sound casual but could never quite pull it off. It broke Leo’s heart to never be able to give him the news he most wanted to hear, that she had asked after him, or that she was coming home. After awhile Walt stopped asking, figuring that if Leo had anything new to tell him he would.
“Hello?” Ivy said into the phone
“Ivy you gorgeous and talented woman, I insist you have coffee with me. My mother has the most dreadful packet rubbish and I’m simply dying for a decent cup but I hate sitting in public on my own. It just seems so tragic, and tragic I am not. I have an image to maintain after all.”
She laughed, his theatrical tone amusing her.
“Well I can’t let your image be tarnished can I?” she said, “I’d never be able to live with that on my conscience.”
“Exactly the answer I’d hoped for. I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes. Is that enough time to get presentable?”
She looked down at what she was wearing, a navy and white striped dress that gathered under the bust before draping over the curves of her belly and falling to just above her knees. Some boots and a coat and it would do.
“I’ll be ready.” she confirmed.
“Excellent.”
Forty five minutes passed before she heard his car turn into the driveway. Opening the door she gave him a questioning look.
“Hey don’t look at me like that,” he said, “you think looking this good comes easy?” and he gestured up and down his body with his hands. Then he looked at her, raised an eyebrow and sighed.
“You could have at least made an effort.” he joked.
She poked her tongue out at him.
He shook his head. “I’m kidding. You didn’t need to do anything did you and yet you look divine. Normally I’m not one for babies,” he gestured towards her stomach, “but it suits you.”
“Thanks,” she told him and reached behind the door to grab her coat.
“Granddad we’re off,” she spoke over her shoulder towards where her grandfather was reading on the window seat on the far side of the lounge.
“You two have fun,” he called back.
“You sure you won’t come?”
“No,” he shook his head, “I’m quite happy here thank you.”
Outside she looked up at the cloudless blue sky and smiled, “it’s a gorgeous day, why don’t we walk?” but James shook his head.
“These shoes may look fantastic but you have no idea how uncomfortable they are - we’re driving.”
They left and headed into the village. He was a careful driver she noted, indicating well before any turns and staying under the speed limit. He noticed her watching him. “I’m out of practise,” he told her. “Back in the city I take the train everywhere.”
“I haven’t driven myself in quite a few years,” she admitted. “I guess I should get some practise in. I will need to be able to drive myself places when the baby comes.”
“Do you have a car?” he asked.
“No,” she shook her head, “but granddads old truck is there if I need it. It will do.”
He pulled over to the kerb. “No time like the present to have a practise,” he grinned wickedly, and getting out of the car he tossed the keys towards her, “catch!”
So Ivy ended up driving, but instead of heading into the village she took the road up into the hills and spent a happy half hour or so refreshing her driving skills while James chatted to her from the passenger seat, telling her all about his life in the city. His boyfriend Henry was back in the city looking after their apartment and two small Shih Tzu’s – Coco and Chanel.
“Those dogs are my babies and I miss them terribly,” he admitted. “If I tell you something you must promise not to tell anyone.”
She crossed her heart and promised.
“Every night I call Henry and he puts Coco and Chanel on the phone and I tell them how much daddy is missing them and how much I love them, and I swear to you they understand every single word I say.”
She tried to keep a straight face, and failed.
“You’re laughing!” he cried.
“I’m not,” she protested, “just smiling.”
“Yeah well, you’ll understand once that thing,” he pointed to her stomach, “makes an appearance.”
On the drive back to the village they passed a big black truck waiting at an intersection, but they paid it no notice. The driver of the truck however, saw them and clenched his fists on the steering wheel. It was Walt.
Seeing Ivy behind the wheel of the little blue car, a man beside her and the two of them seemingly carefree and laughing, was like a punch to the stomach. It literally took his breath away. Even though he was indicating to turn the opposite way he changed course and without thinking followed them instead. He followed them all the way into the village, and when they parked he drove on and parked twenty metres down the road, from where he could watch them in his rear-view mirror. He saw them emerge from the
car, Ivy radiant and womanly and still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and head into a café. He thought about following them inside, as he felt a compulsion to see her with this man who had won her heart and who had been lucky enough to impregnate her. But just as he put his hand on the door handle to open it he snapped to his senses and swore at himself in disgust. Why was he torturing himself like this?
He drove home, happy to find Nina out and the house empty; he needed time to collect his thoughts. Something had to change. This village wasn’t big enough for both of them.
So that afternoon Walt made two decisions. The first, he would sell his house and move to another village or city. He didn’t care where, as long as he could walk down the street without seeing Ivy or her man or one day soon, the baby he always thought would be his.
The second decision he was less sure about, but he knew that once he had made it that would be it, there would be no going back.
He was going to propose to Nina.
He was going to push Ivy out of his mind once and for all and make a new life, somewhere else and with someone else.
It would be hard, but it was what he had to do. She had moved on and now it was time he did the same. No matter how much it hurt.
Chapter twenty eight
Leo was reading the newspaper, as he did every morning with his cup of coffee, when Ivy heard the pages rustle and a sharp intake of breath. She looked up from the canvas she was painting. Her easel had been set up in the porch area and she was currently working on a seascape with a small amount of the village around the edge. Her paintings were selling well and James called her daily to nag at her to ‘get cracking on some more you lazy trollop.’
“You ok Granddad?” she asked, concerned. She could see that he was reading the back pages where the obituaries were generally listed.
“Hmm?” he looked up at her, his face pale.
‘What’s wrong? Do you want me to get you a glass of water?”
“No I’m fine,” he smiled at her, but it was a weak smile and she noticed that he folded the paper and moved it as far away from her as possible. She put her paint brush down and wiped her hands on the flowery apron she wore to protect her clothes.
“I know when you’re not telling me something granddad – spill.”
He assumed an expression of clueless innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about my dear.”
“Fine. Have it your way. Pass me the paper please.”
“I haven’t finished with it.”
“You’re not reading it right now.”
“No but I’m going to read it again soon.”
“Well pass it here and I’ll give it back when you want it again.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Granddad you’re starting to scare me a little now – what are you hiding?”
He sighed and rubbed his temples wearily.
“I guess you’ll find out sooner or later.” He passed the paper over.
Now she was really starting to worry. She flipped to the back page and scanned the obituaries, but nothing stood out. One of the names was vaguely familiar, possibly an old school mates parent or grandparent, but certainly not someone who’s passing affected her in any great way.
She looked up at him questioningly.
“Check the Announcements,” he said.
She did, and then she saw what had upset him.
An engagement announcement:
Tom & Caroline Symonds are delighted to announce the engagement of their daughter Nina Symonds to Walt Parker, son of Paul & Meredith Parker. The Wedding will be held at St Mary’s Catholic Church on the 1st October 2013.
We wish the happy couple every success for a long and prosperous marriage.
Leo watched anxiously while she read it, completely unsure of how she would react, but -
“Oh,”
- was all she said.
Then she folded the paper back up and passed it to him and turned once more to her canvas. He studied her back, waiting for something further but nothing came.
“That’s it?” he asked her eventually, “that’s all you have to say?”
She carried on painting and without turning around answered him.
“What do you want me to say granddad? That I’m heartbroken? Devastated?”
“Well no, obviously I don’t want that. I want you to be honest though, so if that is how you’re feeling then please, tell me.”
“He deserves to be happy.”
“Yes, he does.”
“And if she makes him happy, then I’m happy for them both.”
“You don’t really mean that.”
“I do.”
“No, I mean, I know you want him to be happy, but not with someone else surely. I know you still have feelings for him my girl, and I know he still loves you. I saw the way you two looked at each other in the market. He never stopped asking after you, when you were away. Always asked how you were, where you were.”
She stopped then, turned back to him quizzically.
“You kept in touch?”
“Oh yes. He came around here almost every week, fixed things for me. Bought me food. Kept me company. He’s been a wonderful friend, your Walt.”
She frowned at him. “Why didn’t you mention any of this before?”
He looked down at his cup, shrugged.
“He asked me not to, that day in the supermarket. I don’t know why but I figured after everything he’d done for me the least I could do was respect his wishes.”
“Well that’s odd, why would he do that?”
“I have no idea, you’ll have to ask him.”
She sat there, astounded with what she’d just learnt. “So all this time he kept in touch with you?”
Her grandfather nodded. “It’s only since you’ve been home that he’s stopped visiting.”
“He hates me.”
“Oh no, I’m sure that’s not it. Why would he have asked after you all those years if he hated you? If you ask me it’s the opposite, he’s still in love with you. I’m positive of it.”
“Then why doesn’t he come and see me? Why won’t he let me talk to him or try and explain how I was feeling when I left him like I did?”
Leo shrugged again, helplessly. “I wish I had the answers for you, I really do. But you know there’s only one person who can give them to you.”
“How, when he doesn’t want to know me?”
“You hurt him. He may just need a bit of time to forgive you. Don’t give up so easily.”
Ivy mulled over his words for a day and a night. Then she decided that she had nothing to lose as things were already pretty dire between them, so she went into the village and bought a beautifully embossed engagement card which she signed on behalf of herself and Leo. She also wrapped her favourite painting, the one that she hadn’t been able to part with despite James’s most imploring begging. It was of a startling sunrise, streaks of pink and blue across a pale sky with a few clouds smeared across, the colours reflected in the sea. But not just any old blue; palatinate blue. The colour Walt had told her on her very first date was his favourite. The shop hadn’t carried it so they’d ordered it in especially. It was a stunning shade, and she’d used most of the tube on this one painting. Using artistic license she’d added black silhouette of the beach and a tree to one side, the treehouse visible through the branches.
She almost changed her mind when wrapping the painting as she was worried he might not love it as much as she did, but she really wanted Walt to have it.
Armed with the card and the painting she got James to drive her to Walt’s house. On the front lawn she was startled to see a For Sale sign.
“He’s moving?” James asked, “Where to?”
“I have no idea,” she answered.
She’d told James about the history between her and Walt. He’d become a wonderful friend as well as agent to her, and over tequila one night (fo
r him, water for her) she’d spilled out the story. James was thrilled.
“Oh how romantic!” he declared when she had finished her tale. “It’s like it should be a movie featuring Clark Gable or some other dashingly handsome man.” He splayed his hands theatrically, “Star crossed lovers, destined to always be apart.”
“Hardly star crossed.”
“Shush, don’t ruin the fantasy.”
So when she’d asked him to drive her to the house he’d needed little persuasion. Parking on the opposite side of the street they studied the house.
“Well now that’s just impressive.” James said.
Ivy had to agree. Leo had given her the address and told her she couldn’t miss it, “Walt designed it himself,” he’d told her. “It won a lot of awards.”
The house was three stories high and crafted from dark timber. Set against a hill of ferns and native trees it blended in as if simply an extension of nature. Tall, sweeping windows faced down and out towards the sea below. Everything was cleverly designed to capture and enhance the natural light.
Ivy got out of the car and started to walk up the path to the front door. She heard footsteps behind her and turned, causing James to nearly run into the back of her.
“Watch it” he said.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“What?” he replied, the very picture of innocence.
“You can’t come in.”
“If you thought I was going to wait in the car you thought wrong,” he said. “I want to meet this lost love of yours,” and he folded his arms defiantly.
She could tell from his look that he wouldn’t be persuaded otherwise so she sighed and turned to the house again, approaching the door and ringing the bell nervously. From the other side of the door they heard the chimes echo throughout the house, then footprints approached.
‘Is it too late to run?” she muttered to James who answered by prodding her forward, closer to the door. It swung open but instead of Walt they were met with the arched eyebrows of Nina, who leaned languidly against the doorframe in a very clear gesture that they would not be invited in.
When Stars Collide Page 14
