by Heidi Rice
‘Yes, we’d been seeing each other for two years. Your father and I hadn’t had a physical relationship for a long time.’
Ellie sniffed. ‘Two years? But you never said anything?’ How had her mother kept that a secret for so long?
She thought of Pammy, the woman she’d tried so hard to hate that summer, but who had never shown her anything but consideration.
‘Why hadn’t you and Dad had a physical relationship for years?’ Had her mother always been a lesbian then?
Dee sat down heavily beside her, studied her hands, twisting the ring she always kept on her finger, the ring Pam had given her.
‘He cheated on me the first time, less than a year after we married. He couldn’t be faithful, and I tried to ignore it at first, but eventually there wasn’t really any need to, because we lived separate lives in the same house. He had a mistress and I didn’t mind.’ Her mother sent her a weak smile that spoke of how much she’d endured.
Ellie felt the twist of humiliation in her own chest, recalling all those times she had gone to an event in Orchard County with Dan, and known her husband wasn’t being faithful. And every time she’d made a conscious decision to ignore the evidence.
‘When I met Pammy,’ Dee said, ‘I discovered what it was actually like to be in love. Passionately in love. And I realised I had never felt that way about your father. So no wonder he wasn’t faithful to me.’
Ellie took her mother’s hands, and rubbed her thumbs across the knuckles, slightly swollen from all the hours she put in kneading dough or stirring something. The map of tiny cuts, the red mark across the base of the thumb where she must have burned herself.
She met her mum’s gaze, the pale blue eyes misty with tears. ‘If he couldn’t remain faithful, that’s his fault not yours. He didn’t deserve you.’
Just like Dan hadn’t deserved her.
‘And anyway it was Pam you loved.’
Her mother’s lips curled on one side, the smile weak, but there. ‘I know. But I always loved you more than anything. You were my child. And because I chose to stay here, you stopped believing that.’
‘You couldn’t have stayed with him, and I made the choice to go back to London, so what choice did you have?’ Why had it taken her so long to see this?
Her mother touched her cheek. ‘Don’t let me off so lightly, Ellie. You were a child and I was your mother. I’ve been over the events of that summer again and again over the years, once we’d grown so far apart, and I tried to figure out what I could have done differently. And I came to the conclusion, it was a mistake to bring you here. A selfish decision I made without taking your feelings into account.’ She glanced around the cosy country kitchen, and for the first time Ellie saw it through her mother’s eyes. How much she’d done to the place. ‘It wasn’t ready. You weren’t ready.’
Ellie squeezed her mum’s hand. ‘I’m ready now, and so is this place. You’ve made it into something really beautiful, Mum. Josh loves it here.’
Her mother turned her hand palm up, and squeezed back. ‘I’m glad.’
As she helped her mother with the bread making, the painkillers finally kicked in. She felt lighter, more in control, less fragile, the gut-wrenching feeling of anxiety – that had haunted her ever since the day she’d been eviscerated by Caroline Myerson over a crust-less crab salad sandwich when the woman had sacked her over afternoon tea in the Myerson Memorial Golf Club – was gone for the first time in a month.
She didn’t feel so alone any more. Her father’s infidelity had given her a connection with her mum she had not expected, and she had her new friends – Tess, Annie and Maddy – to do silly girly things with. And she had a ton of challenging exciting work to keep herself busy…
Which ought to prevent her from doing any more silly girly things with Art.
And thankfully Art was still refusing to get involved with the project, so once they got stuck into the construction, she’d be unlikely to see him much. Plus, she was embarking on a lifetime sloe gin ban.
All good.
And she was totally not interested in finding out about Alicia.
Not. At. All.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Art crouched on the front steps of the bow-top Romany caravan, scratching the label on the beer he’d pulled out of the van’s icebox, and watched the merriment in the farmyard below.
They’d been at it most of the day and evening, clearing the years and years worth of junk out of the back barn. And now they were reaping their reward, tucking into the feast Dee had spent hours preparing. George Michael belted out some golden oldie from the eighties, the lyrics bouncing over the coppice woods in the muggy evening towards Art’s perch at the top of the rise. It wasn’t full dark yet, but the fairy lights Dee and the kids had strung across the yard twinkled in the half-light adding a festive flavour to the occasion as everyone settled onto the bench seats, filling their plates from the bowls and platters Dee had laid out on a side table.
While he sat up on the hill alone, having somehow morphed into Shrek.
They were planning another whole day of it tomorrow to get the building ready for the concrete mixer arriving on Monday. The heavy construction needed was minimal – replacing the ground slab and sandblasting and then repointing the brickwork was all that was necessary. He knew because he’d assessed the structure five years ago for Pam’s planning application. The barn itself was solid and already fit for purpose – give or take twenty years of accumulated crap. The bulk of the work to convert it into commercial premises would be in the fit-out. They’d need to add a customer toilet, sort out the plumbing and electrics, build in the shelving and cabinets and the kitchen units. And then he guessed Dee would supervise the decorating. But if they were going for a rustic look, which made sense, he doubted she’d go overboard on fancy design stuff.
Five weeks in total according to the business plan Ellie had done, which he’d spent the last week deciphering. The schedule would be tight. Very tight. To make it work, they’d need a good project manager. However much of an admin ninja Ellie was, he would bet his left nut she knew sod all about construction.
He did. He’d run the project to convert the dairy barn with Rob. And even though he had found the reading and writing part hard, he was certified as both a plumber and electrician.
He’d been mulling it over for the last week, ever since the original planning meeting and his argument with Ellie in the workshop. Maybe he’d underestimated her. The passion and determination in her eyes surprised him. And did it really matter what her motives were? He still had reservations about the whole thing, but when he’d heard about the bank loan being approved yesterday, his last chance of talking sense into everyone had been shot. Pam’s farm shop was happening, whether he wanted it to or not.
As he’d sat in the deserted kitchen last night, eating alone for the sixth night in a row, he’d been considering speaking to Ellie the next morning and offering his services. If for no other reason than to make sure she and the rest of the amateurs didn’t screw it up. If they were going to do this thing, they needed to do it right.
But that was before Ellie had stumbled into the kitchen at midnight, half-cut and far too cute in her tight jeans and mad hair, and challenged him to a drinking contest. The sloe gin and his reckless libido had done the rest.
She’d tasted nothing like the way he’d once imagined she would. Not that he’d imagined kissing her back then, if he could help it. She’d been a kid. A pushy, smart-arsed, pampered kid who thought she was better than him, so why the bloody hell would he want to kiss her? But the day before she’d left the commune, there had been one moment when he had not been completely immune.
That insane split second urge had come back to torture him ever since Ellie had returned. But it wasn’t until last night that the enormity of the problem had surfaced.
She’d been squinting at him, listening to some rubbish he was spouting off the top of his head about human sexuality – where had that come from? Her
eyes had been all squiffy and unfocused, but sheened with something that his trashed brain had taken to be admiration, and the only coherent thought running through his head had been the same as the one from that day nineteen years ago.
I want to taste you.
But this time, he’d been unable to resist acting on it. And instead of being sweet and proper and stuck up, Ellie’s taste had been raw, needy and real enough to make him moan.
Even at fourteen, Ellie Preston had not been good for his mental health. Now she was a disaster zone.
He lifted the lid on the icebox at his feet and dumped the unopened bottle of beer back inside. Booze had got him into this pickle.
Kissing Ellie would have been bad back in the nineties, when she’d been young and annoying and he’d been monumentally screwed up, but kissing her now felt worse. Not only was Ellie married, she was also heading up a project that could mess up all their lives if it failed, and she was the prodigal daughter Dee had been desperate to welcome back ever since Pam’s death.
What if Ellie told Dee what she’d told him a week ago, about why she’d left that summer? Would Dee think he was nothing more than a big fat cuckoo who had kicked her own child out of the nest, to move in himself? It hadn’t been like that, he hadn’t meant it to be like that, but that’s what it would look like.
And then Dee would have to choose between him and Ellie, and she wasn’t going to choose him. Because no one ever had, not even his own mother.
How could he offer to be the project manager now? It would only make him look more guilty. More desperate for an affection he wasn’t even sure he deserved any more.
Maybe he could give Rob some pointers and persuade him to take on the job. It would save the expense of getting an outside contractor. And keep him well out of Ellie’s orbit for the rest of the summer, which was clearly where he needed to be before he gave in to any more suicidal urges.
Of course, he’d have to offer to take over Rob’s early morning milking schedule. But having to get up at 4 a.m. each day for a month to commune with a load of cows ought to teach him to keep his stupid mouth away from Ellie’s.
He listened to the indistinguishable murmur of conversation drifting up from the farmyard now that Dee had turned down George. Josh and Toto shouted and laughed, getting chased round the yard by one of the Jackson twins, while the adults sat jammed together finishing their meal in the twilight.
His gaze tracked instinctively to Ellie, who was tucked in between Jacob and Rob, her blonde hair shining in the glimmer of the fairy lights. He ran his tongue over his lips, tasting the perfumed echo of the gin. His pulse spiked at the memory of her soft sob of breath. The darting licks of her tongue as she explored his mouth.
He adjusted his jeans, feeling the pressure as the blood flowed into his lap.
He definitely needed to stay away from her.
‘I thought I’d find you up here.’
He jolted at the sound of Dee’s voice as her figure separated from the shadow of the trees.
‘I brought you some supper.’ She lifted the plate of food she held. ‘No need for you to go hungry while you sulk.’ She breathed deeply as she made her way to the top of the small hill.
‘I’m not sulking.’ If only it were that simple.
Dee sent him a sceptical side eye as she handed him the plate then produced a knife and fork wrapped in a napkin from the back pocket of her jeans.
‘Then why didn’t you come down to have supper with the rest of us?’
He perched the plate on his knees, and picked up a kebab. Tearing a cube of lamb off with his teeth, he took his time chewing the spicy, succulent meat.
She waited for him to swallow.
As they sat together in the gathering darkness, the fairy lights from the farmyard illuminating the scene below, the guilt felt as if it might choke him.
Who was he kidding? Maybe he hadn’t deliberately tried to make Ellie leave that summer, but he had been a total shit to her most of the time. And the reason for that, it seemed so obvious now, was jealousy. She’d had Dee and he hadn’t. What would he do if he lost Dee’s friendship? If she stopped caring about him sitting up here on his own? If she stopped worrying about whether he’d eaten or not? He’d always hated being fussed over, but what if Dee never fussed over him again? He was so used to it now he would miss it.
‘I had some stuff to finish up in the workshop,’ he said, in answer to her question – an answer that was almost true.
‘Then why are you sitting all the way up here on your own instead of finishing up that stuff in the workshop?’
She had him there.
‘Because I finished and I wanted some quiet.’ That was better, more convincing. ‘I wasn’t in the mood for company.’ Which was actually true. He certainly wasn’t in the mood for a particular person’s company.
‘So is this a problem with the project still, or is it Ellie?’
The fork he’d been using to shovel up a mouthful of Dee’s salad selection clattered onto the plate. ‘What?’
Dee sighed. ‘Are you still sulking about the project going ahead, or is this an issue with Ellie? Because she spoke to me this morning, in the grips of a terrible hangover, and told me you two had come to an accord.’
An accord? Is that what they were calling it?
‘We had a few drinks, that was all.’ Panic skittered up his spine. What else had Ellie told her mother? ‘And I told you I’m not sulking.’ Much.
‘She also told me what you accused her of after our initial project meeting.’
Oh hell. The guilt hissed and twisted inside him like a snake. ‘I’ve got legitimate concerns about the project.’
‘Which have been duly noted,’ Dee said, patiently. She didn’t sound angry, just resigned. He wasn’t sure what was worse. ‘And, as I told you then, you don’t have to protect me, to protect any of us. Ellie didn’t come up with this idea all on her own. We came up with it together. So you need to stop being so hostile towards her.’
She knew. He could hear it in her voice. The disappointment. The distance. Ellie had told her everything. All the stupid, nasty things he’d done as a teenager to push her away, to make her feel like dirt, and now Dee was here to cut him loose. And, the worst of it was, he knew on some level he deserved it.
He ducked his head, staring at the plate half full of the colourful salads she’d brought up to him, not hungry any more. ‘I’m sorry, I never meant to make her go,’ he said, resigned too now.
His relationship with Dee would never be the same again. But whose fault was that? Ever since Ellie had returned, it had been bound to come out. What an arse wipe he’d been as a kid. He’d been hostile towards Ellie as soon as she had reappeared, because he’d been scared. Maybe if he’d managed to stay away from Ellie, managed not to let all those self-destructive urges come out of hiding last night, he wouldn’t have exposed himself to this. But he hadn’t and now Dee knew. That she’d spent nineteen years without a daughter, because of him.
‘Could you be more specific about what you’re apologising for?’ Dee said.
‘I didn’t mean to make her leave that summer. I actually liked her,’ he said in his defence, trying to explain the unexplainable. ‘But I didn’t really figure that out until she’d gone and by then it was too late.’ He was talking nonsense, like a politician trying to cover his tracks.
Dee pressed a hand to his thigh. ‘Art, look at me.’
He turned, steeling himself for the contempt he expected, but all she did was smile. The kind, caring smile he had come to rely on without even realising it.
‘What on earth are you talking about?’ she said.
She didn’t know. For a moment, relief surged. Ellie hadn’t said anything. Why hadn’t Ellie said anything? Had it been the kiss? Maybe she hadn’t been as freaked out about it as he had? Was that a good thing? But, as Dee continued to smile at him, her brows furrowed, waiting for a coherent answer, the relief fizzled out. Maybe she didn’t know yet, but he was
going to have to tell her. And take the risk, because he could not live with this hanging over him.
‘I thought Ellie told you,’ he said.
‘Told me what?’
‘That the reason she left that day with her dad was because of me. She came to see me the afternoon before, and I made her cry.’
She sighed, but the smile didn’t falter. ‘Oh, Art, don’t be an idiot.’
OK, that wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. He guessed it had to be better than what he had been expecting, but the smile seemed almost pitying now, which couldn’t be good. ‘Why does that make me an idiot?’
‘Ellie didn’t leave because of you.’
‘Yes, she did, she told me she did, a week ago.’ He wasn’t sure why he was arguing the point, but it seemed important to come clean about it all.
‘She left for a whole host of reasons,’ Dee said. ‘I’m sure your behaviour towards her didn’t help, and she may even have persuaded herself it was the cause, but the truth was she was vulnerable then, and so were you. And I was the one who didn’t recognise that. It was my job to make her feel secure and loved, not yours.’
‘But you don’t know all the things I–’
‘And I don’t want to know.’ Dee pressed a finger to his lips, halting the confession he was about to make. ‘You were a child back then, unloved and broken, nothing you did then would change my opinion of you now.’
‘Thanks.’ He ducked his head, embarrassed by how much that meant to him.
She touched his cheek, forcing his gaze back to hers. ‘Didn’t it ever occur to you that once Ellie left, I needed you, too?’
‘I guess not.’
‘I’ll admit my affection for you at first was probably transference. When Laura ran off with Rupert, I knew I could be useful to you and being useful helped me deal with losing Ellie.’ Moisture collected at the corners of her eyes.
Panic gripped him again. ‘Jesus, Dee, please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to remind you of all that.’
She sniffed and wiped a thumb under her eyelid to collect the drop. ‘Don’t be silly. I’m not sad. Ellie’s back now and we’re going to rebuild our relationship. We’ve already made a good start.’
