The date had come through for the court appearance, so now Kate knew her days of missing Sam were numbered. She had bought a calendar and a red pen with which to mark off the days as they passed. Marie saw the calendar and nodded, just once. Beyond this, her new friend had not spoken of the court case again, nor had she continued to ask questions about Evan. Instead, Marie seemed to have thrown her energies into pairing Kate off with Patrick.
This new turn of events wasn’t a complete surprise; Kate had been preoccupied, but had still seen it coming. The constant stream of information about her other lodger – that he worked out in Willows Wood as a forester; that he was amazingly good with his hands, she should see the coffee table he knocked up for Marie last Christmas; that he was only lodging here because there was a family on a long-term rental in his own house and he was too kind to kick them out of their home … and had she mentioned that he was single and solvent and a thoroughly nice guy?
Only about a hundred times, Kate thought every time Marie launched into another one of her Patrick appreciation sessions. It was a Saturday morning, and Kate was working on an outfit she wanted to wear for the court hearing. She’d sourced a vintage pattern at the haberdasher’s, along with some navy wool suiting. The pencil skirt and tailored jacket would stretch her skills, but she thought the effect would be worth it. And she could use the offcuts for Sam. Hanging on a small wooden coat hanger by her side was the sailor suit she’d made over a year ago, now too small for her son, but she planned to replicate it exactly.
‘Coffee for two,’ Marie called from the landing, knocking on Kate’s already open door with her elbow. Kate jumped up to relieve her of one of the mugs, setting it down on top of her bookcase, far away from the delicate fabric that was laid out next to the sewing machine.
‘Looks complicated.’ Marie gestured to the pattern pieces Kate had already pinned in place. ‘How on earth can you tell what goes where?’
Kate laughed. ‘It’s easy. You just follow the instructions.’
Marie picked up the sheet of paper Kate had pointed to. She dug a long fingernail into her lacquered hair to scratch at her scalp. ‘Incomprehensible,’ she announced. ‘You, my dear, are a genius.’
‘Hardly!’ Kate sipped her coffee. Marie had her own espresso machine tucked away downstairs; Kate couldn’t get enough of the bitter, intoxicating taste. She sighed and said, ‘You know, I never liked coffee much before I was in hospital.’
‘It’s addictive,’ Marie said, grinning.
Kate pulled a face. ‘Ah well, there you go then. My mother always said I had an addictive personality.’
As Kate sipped her coffee, her gazed landed on the beautiful yellow silk curtains Marie had given her and she remembered her idea to do something nice for her friend.
‘Marie, would you let me make you a dress? I’ve got some fabric in mind, but I was wondering what style you’d prefer.’ She glanced at Marie’s baggy leggings and shapeless tunic doubtfully. ‘I mean, do you have anything coming up that you might need a new outfit for?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Marie said, giggling, ‘I’m having dinner with the Queen next week, didn’t I tell you?’ She smiled and patted Kate’s arm. ‘Get away with you. Concentrate on topping up your own wardrobe and making clothes for little Sam. And getting paying customers, of course. I’m fine as I am.’
Kate only nodded. She wasn’t going to be put off that easily.
‘But what about Big Tony?’ Kate crossed the room and fingered the silky fabric. Then she draped it across her body, twirling around until she’d wrapped herself up like a mummy. ‘Ta da!’ she said, laughing. ‘I think he’d really like this.’
‘I don’t think it’s Big Tony’s colour,’ Marie told her seriously.
‘Oh, Marie. You know what I mean. You could wear it on one of your dates. I’ve seen how you like to dress up for him.’
‘I try, but it’s mutton dressed as lamb these days.’ Marie waved away Kate’s protests. ‘Now listen, I’ve got a surprise for you today. You spend too much time shut away up here like Rapunzel. It’s time for you to get some fresh air into those weak little lungs of yours.’
‘I go out every day,’ Kate protested. ‘And I’m hardly weak! I’m getting better all the time. Look, I can walk without the stick now.’ She crossed the room again to demonstrate.
‘And what about sleep? Every woman needs her beauty sleep. Don’t think I don’t know how little sleep you’re getting – you could pack luggage in those bags, my dear.’
Kate tucked her chin into her neck, embarrassed. ‘I have a lot on my mind,’ she mumbled. ‘I really don’t care what I look like.’
‘Beautiful women like you don’t have to care,’ Marie said with a sigh. ‘What I wouldn’t give to look so enchanting on zero sleep.’
‘You said something about fresh air?’ Kate reminded her, desperate to change the subject.
‘Right. Patrick is going to take you out this afternoon, isn’t that lovely? He’s going to show you the woods where he works, give you the full guided tour. Now, don’t start groaning and rolling your eyes like that – it’s very unbecoming. I’ve made a picnic, and Patrick has taken the day off especially.’
‘Marie, Patrick never works on a Saturday.’
‘He does too! Not so much in the summer, but this is a busy time of year for him, so you should count yourself lucky.’
‘I’m busy,’ Kate said, folding her arms across her chest. ‘I can’t just drop everything and go out with a man I hardly know.’
‘Hardly know? You’ve lived under the same roof for two weeks. Kate,’ she said, dropping her voice, ‘he’s a nice man. Take it from me, a little time spent in the company of a nice man does you the power of good.’
‘But I don’t want to –’
The sound of a door closing above their heads cut Kate off mid-sentence.
‘He’s coming,’ Marie hissed. ‘Act natural.’
Kate’s shoulders sagged and she shook her head despairingly. Patrick descended the stairs, his footsteps ominous in the silence.
‘And you might want to change into something a little more alluring than jeans and a ratty T-shirt,’ Marie whispered in Kate’s ear, then she winked broadly and turned to greet her other lodger.
Chapter 13
Willow Woods was a misnomer, as far as Kate could tell. She’d asked Patrick to explain the difference between a woodland and a forest, but the answer had been so complicated she wasn’t sure she understood any better now than before. What she did know was, the woodlands he managed were vast and sprawling, covering much of the land between Corrin Cove and the inland villages that dotted the gently rising hills.
The journey to Willow Woods took them through a densely forested landscape, the trees folding over the narrow road to form an impenetrable canopy. By the time they reached their destination there was no sign of the bright September sun they’d left behind in Corrin Cove. Marie’s picnic bounced on the back seat of Patrick’s jeep, and Kate sat in silence, lamenting the fact that she hadn’t been able to persuade Marie to accompany them.
‘I have an appointment for a bikini wax,’ Marie had announced loudly, sending Patrick rushing off downstairs, while Kate slapped her landlady on the arm for behaving so badly.
They left Patrick’s jeep parked outside his ‘office’ – a timber structure suspended between two sturdy oaks. Kate’s eyes nearly popped out of her head at the sight of it; she was even more astonished when Patrick told her he’d constructed it himself. It was utterly charming, and Kate told him so.
‘You work there?’ she said, shaking her head in amazement. ‘But that’s just … It must be every boy’s dream to grow up and have a job in a place like this.’
He grinned. ‘Kind of. Come on, there’s more to see.’
She followed him into the woods, glancing at his profile as they trudged side by side through the soft undergrowth. He was a handsome man, there was no denying it. There was a solidity to him, and a calmness that she thought mi
ght come from spending so much time out here, at one with nature. A sigh escaped her lips, and Patrick looked down at her, his eyebrows raised.
‘Are you okay?’ he said. ‘It’s not too much for you, is it?’
She shook her head. She had brought her cane for support, but she only intended to use it if she began to tire. They walked on in silence for a while. The quiet in here was absolute, like nothing Kate had experienced before. She could hear her own breath and her heartbeat; she was aware of every step, every crack of a twig, every snap of a branch pulled back and let go again. And she was just as aware of Patrick’s breath, the rustle of his jacket, the regularity of his stride. There were no birds singing, no aeroplanes overhead, only the shushing of the wind in the trees far, far above them. You could get lost in here, she thought, and never find your way out again. If someone chose to bring you in here and leave you for dead, no one would ever find you.
Biting down an irrational surge of panic, Kate pressed on, keeping her head down so she could see only the ground in front of her. Patrick began to whistle under his breath. Kate frowned. The tune was familiar. She thought hard, trying to place it. It reminded her of childhood, of nursery rhymes and long summer days. And then she had it: the Teddy Bears’ Picnic. Well, that was sort of appropriate, she supposed …
She stopped suddenly, her eyes flashing a warning.
‘What’s wrong?’ Patrick was ahead of her; he turned around, his expression one of mild enquiry.
‘If you go down to the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise?’ Kate spoke the words instead of singing them. She threw Patrick a challenging look. ‘Are you trying to tell me something?’
He grinned again, a mischievous glint twinkling in his eyes. ‘I wondered whether you’d pick up on that.’
‘Oh, very funny.’ Kate carried on walking, and Patrick fell into step beside her once more. ‘So,’ she said, ‘do you have a big surprise for me down here in the woods?’
‘I certainly do.’
She glanced up, trying to gauge his tone. ‘But you’re not going to tell me what it is, are you?’
‘Not until we get there.’
Figured. But now she felt lighter, somehow, and the trees that closed in around them seemed to be hugging them close, keeping them safe. She allowed herself to sink into it, to try and allow all the stresses of the past few months to float away like a balloon, soon to be lost in the treetops that whispered and shivered above them.
***
‘Okay, so close your eyes.’
Kate did as instructed, gripping onto her cane with one hand and Patrick’s outstretched arm with the other.
‘Take two steps forward. Move to your right a bit. No, the other right.’
Kate laughed. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve never been very good with my left and my right.’
‘Just as well you’re not a park ranger then. Now, open your eyes.’
‘Now?’
‘Whenever you’re ready.’
Holding on tightly, Kate opened her eyes. In front of her was a clearing, covered only with bracken and moss. She looked across at Patrick. ‘It’s very … nice,’ she said. ‘Is this the spot you’ve chosen for our picnic?’
He nodded, his eyes full of amusement. ‘Look up,’ he whispered.
She tipped back her head, then let out a gasp, her left hand releasing Patrick and flying up to her open mouth.
‘Oh, my goodness! It’s incredible.’ She turned to him in astonishment, then gazed back up into the trees.
High above them, swaying in the breeze as though suspended by the very air itself, was a tree house. Like the building back at the forestry centre, this was constructed from timber, but whereas Patrick’s office was square and functional, the tree house was circular, mirroring the shape of the trees it nestled in so neatly, with a large round window in the side and a long rope ladder snaking down to the clearing below.
She laughed. ‘Oh, you really do spend all your time out here working, don’t you? Not just playing in tree houses like a little boy.’
‘I work plenty,’ he said, shrugging. ‘Well, okay, maybe there’s a bit of the boy left in me still. But all work and no play makes you dull, right? Like you, stuck at that sewing machine all day long. I was glad when Marie said you wanted to come out here and see the woods.’
‘She said I wanted –?’ Kate bit off her words and met Patrick’s gaze. ‘Is that what Marie said?’
He nodded, then sighed. ‘Ah, I see. Marie has played us both, it seems.’
‘Right.’ Kate looked at her feet, swallowing down a nugget of disappointment. So he’d only offered to bring her because Marie asked him, not because he wanted to.
‘She did make us this picnic,’ he said, hoisting the basket up onto his shoulder. ‘So we shouldn’t be too cross with her.’
Kate shook her head, not quite trusting herself to speak.
‘Come on then,’ Patrick said. ‘You won’t believe the view from up there.’
But Kate held back, eyeing the ladder doubtfully. ‘Patrick, I can’t climb that. There’s no way I can do it, and not just because of this.’ She lifted her cane. ‘I wouldn’t have been able to climb a rope ladder when I was fit and well.’
He shook his head, still smiling. ‘That’s just there for emergencies. And for when I feel like challenging myself a little. Come on – there are steps on the other side of those trees.’
She followed him, biting her lip, overwhelmed at the thought of being high in the treetops with this man who seemed at once so gentle but at the same time strong and capable.
They rounded a giant trunk at least three metres in circumference, and there, embedded in the tree at regular intervals, was a set of wooden steps, each tread only just wide enough to stand on. The treads wound around the trunk, up and up, accompanied by a thick rope handrail, leading to a timber walkway that had been hidden from their vantage point back in the clearing. Patrick laid the picnic basket on the woodland floor and gestured to Kate to go first.
‘You’ll be fine, Kate,’ he told her. ‘They’re just spiral stairs like you’d find in any castle turret or stately home. Try to forget that you’re outside, and lean into the body of the tree. Oh, and don’t look down.’ He grinned at her and nodded again for her to move. ‘I’ll be right behind you. I won’t let you fall.’
She took a deep breath, then began to climb. ‘I don’t actually like stately homes,’ she told him over her shoulder.
‘I didn’t think so,’ he said, chuckling.
‘I’m more of an outdoors kind of a girl.’
‘Right. That’s what I thought.’
‘In fact, I’d like to live in the woods, just me and Sam, just escape from the world, never have to bother with anyone, ever.’
She was babbling now, talking for the sake of it. Patrick kept up his own chatter behind her, egging her on, telling her she was doing great. The truth was, she’d never been an outdoors kind of person at all. She’d spent her teenage years resenting Corrin Cove – hadn’t even heard of these woods until today, despite growing up a stone’s throw from them. She’d spent all of her adult years until now in a sprawling metropolis, where the only greenery had been the odd patch of municipal grass. She climbed on, not daring to look at anything other than the next tread in front of her, trying not to think about the distance from here to the ground.
And then she was at the top, stepping onto a sturdy platform of solid timber and gripping hold of the handrail exultantly. ‘I made it!’ she cried.
‘You certainly did.’ Patrick stepped up from the tree-stairway behind her, for a moment so close she could feel the entire length of his body pressed against her. She closed her eyes, fighting the desire to lean into him, to enjoy the view while encircled in his arms – she knew she would fit so snugly there. Too soon he moved on to stand by her side, and Kate let out a tiny sigh and opened her eyes.
‘Wow,’ she exclaimed. ‘It really is incredible.’
Up here she could see the
curve of the forested land, see how it fell away down towards the cove. She gazed across the treetops, shaking her head in amazement.
‘It looks like rain,’ she said, peering out towards the ocean. Darkening clouds were flattened against the sea, the sky an angry violet above them. But Patrick was already crossing the narrow walkway, half turned and holding out his hand for her to join him.
She followed Patrick across the walkway into the tree house, enjoying the sensation of being on top of the world. While Patrick went to fetch the picnic, shimmying down the rope ladder with ease, Kate stood at the round window and closed her eyes again, allowing the rising breeze to cool her face and lift her hair, feeling so alive, so animated, she wanted to capture the moment and keep it with her for all time. She imagined bringing Sam up here, and decided to ask Patrick if he thought it would be safe.
They ate their picnic in silence, but the silence was companionable, and Kate felt as though she had known Patrick all her life. She was glad he didn’t bombard her with questions the way Marie did; she only wanted to savour the moment.
‘I suppose we should be going,’ Patrick said after they’d wolfed down all of Marie’s sandwiches and posh crisps and home-baked sausage rolls. ‘I heard you tell Marie you were busy. I don’t want to take up too much of your day.’
‘Can’t we stay just a little longer?’ Kate heard herself asking. ‘I mean, only if you can spare the time.’ She swallowed, aware all over again of the effect his proximity had on her. ‘It’s just that it took so much effort to get up here in the first place – it seems a shame to go back so soon. Maybe we could just ... sit for a while?’
Patrick nodded, then settled back against the side of the tree house and closed his eyes. Kate studied him for a while, tracing the faint lines on his face with an imaginary finger, wondering what he was thinking, what secrets he kept, what he thought about her. She snuggled deeper into the blankets that lined the floor, and leaned back against one of the giant cushions. The tree house rocked gently, and Kate felt like a baby in a cradle, swaying, safe, up here on the top of the world.
Keeping Sam Page 8
