‘Goodness,’ Alice said. ‘She was quite – predatory.’
‘Yes,’ Ben said. ‘She could be quite scary once she got those talons into you,’ he said, taking a good draught of wine.
‘Does that happen a lot?’
‘What?’ Ben said, the colour from his face finally settling back to something approaching normality.
‘I mean, I guess you have a lot of ex-girlfriends.’
‘I’ve had one or two,’ he said. ‘Everybody has a past.’
‘Not as colourful as yours, though,’ Alice said, berating herself for her irked tone. Why had the incident with Lynne got to her so much? This was how it was going to be with Ben, wasn’t it? He was a good-looking man – way out of Alice’s league – and he attracted a type of girl that would always look down on Alice.
‘What do you mean by that?’ Ben said with a frown.
Alice sighed. What did she mean, she wondered? ‘I mean, you’re so handsome.’
He laughed. ‘And you’re beautiful.’
‘No, I’m not,’ Alice said quickly.
Ben shook his head. ‘You’re always selling yourself short, Alice.’
‘But I’m not beautiful,’ she said.
‘And I’m sure you’ve had just as many boyfriends as I’ve had girlfriends,’ he added.
Alice felt her heartbeat accelerate as she thought of the woeful lineup of old boyfriends like Michael who’d still lived with his mother and had had to be home by nine o’clock each evening or Rick who’d forgotten to pick Alice up for their date one evening because he’d got back together with his ex.
‘Listen,’ Ben said at last, his hand reaching across the table to take hers, ‘let’s not talk about the past. It’s the present I’m interested in.’ He gave a warm smile and Alice’s insecurities were banished. For the moment.
They ordered voluptuous desserts with swirls of chocolate, drank sweet tea and drove home. Alice did her best not to think about Lynne, she really did, but her beautiful, haughty face kept staring out at her from her mind’s eye and Alice couldn’t help but wonder how many other ex-girlfriends of Ben’s would give her the once-over and make her feel as if she had no place by his side.
‘You’re very quiet,’ Ben said as he pulled up outside her cottage and switched the engine off.
‘Just thinking,’ she said.
‘What about?’ he asked, leaning in closer to her.
‘Us.’
‘Us is a very good thing to think about,’ he said and she couldn’t help but smile. He was very good at making her smile.
‘Do you want to come in?’ she asked nervously.
Ben took her hand in his and brought it up to his mouth and kissed it. ‘I’d love to,’ he said, ‘but I think we should wait.’
‘What do you want to wait for?’ Alice said, half-panicked in case Ben was seeing her for who she really was.
‘This is special, Alice,’ he said, ‘and I don’t want to rush things.’
Alice swallowed hard. It was the last thing she’d expected him to say and his sweetness made her feel so guilty.
‘Okay,’ she said at last, and closed her eyes as he kissed her.
‘Good night,’ he said a moment later as she got out of the car. She watched as he disappeared into the night and a terrible sadness settled in her heart. Why couldn’t all this be happening because of who she was – who she really was? Why couldn’t Ben have noticed her weeks ago before the wish had been made?
As she turned to go inside, she was aware of a ghostly presence next door. It was her neighbour, old Mr Montague. He was standing in his front garden behind the wooden gate and the air was filled with smoke from his cigar. He did look a funny sight standing in the moonlight in his saggy pyjamas. Alice didn’t often see him but she knew that his wife had thought he’d given up smoking years ago and didn’t know about him sloping off to the garden every night for a quick one. He’d once confided in Alice that he told his wife he was on slug patrol.
‘Are you all right, Mr Montague?’ she said.
He nodded and then his eyes lit up. ‘Alice! Is that you?’ He shuffled forward in his furry slippers and almost crashed into the little wooden gate.
‘Yes, Mr Montague.’
‘You’re out late. Got yourself a fancy man?’
She smiled at the old-fashioned term. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said honestly.
‘You be sure to choose carefully, now. A girl like you deserves somebody who will love and cherish her for who she really is.’
Alice blinked hard in the moonlight as Mr Montague’s words struck home. ‘But how can I be sure of that?’ she asked. ‘How can I be certain that a man loves me for who I truly am?’
Mr Montague beckoned her forward with a bony finger and Alice dared to approach the gate. ‘Come closer,’ he said.
Warily, Alice took another step forward. ‘What is it?’ she asked, feeling Mr Montague’s hot breath on her cold cheek.
‘Oh, Alice!’ he whispered and, before she could get away, he had her shoulders clutched in his bony hands and was kissing her cheek with an alarming sucking sound.
‘Mr Montague! Please let me go!’
‘Alice! My Alice!’ he cried into the night air. ‘You’re my one true love! How did I never see it before?’
‘Because there is nothing to see. I haven’t changed and neither have you. You’re a married man and this is madness! Madness!’ She shook his hands away from her and tore up her garden path, jamming her key in the lock as quickly as she could.
She was shaking so much that she could barely put the safety chain on the door. This had got to stop. She couldn’t go through this any more. Her life was falling apart and for the first time she realised that the old life hadn’t been so bad after all. She might not have got quite so much male attention but at least everybody had been honest. At least she didn’t have to put up with this mad charade of passion.
She walked through to the kitchen and made herself a cup of camomile tea to try and calm her nerves, taking it through to the living room and sitting down on the sofa. For a moment, she thought she could hear a radio but then realised that the sound was coming from outside.
Alice stood up and moved to the window, listening for a moment, trying to work out what it was. It sounded like some sort of animal in pain but then she realised it wasn’t an animal. It was old Mr Montague.
‘He’s singing!’ she said, gasping in horror as she caught sight of the old man at her garden gate still wearing nothing but his saggy pyjamas. What made matters even worse was he was down on one knee, an ancient guitar in his arms which he wasn’t really playing, just holding for support.
Alice’s hand flew to her mouth as she watched him, trying to make out the words he was singing. He kept saying her name over and over again, that much was clear, but there didn’t seem to be any sort of rhythm or tune. He was just making it up as he went along and the result was the most awful noise Alice had ever heard. She had to stop him.
Opening the window, she leaned out. ‘Mr Montague – it’s the middle of the night! What are you doing?’
‘I – I – I,’ he stuttered, ‘I’m serenading you.’
‘I think you should go to bed.’
He nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes! Oh, yes!’
‘Your own bed, Mr Montague,’ Alice said.
There then came a strange cry from Mr Montague’s house and the burly figure of his wife came crashing through the undergrowth. ‘What is going on, Ernest Montague?’
‘I – I – I’m serenading Alice,’ he said as if it was the most natural thing to be doing in the middle of the night.
‘You stupid old fool!’ his wife bellowed. ‘Nobody wants to hear you croaking into the night like a hoarse frog! Least of all Alice. Now get inside, you big oaf!’
Alice watched as Mrs Montague cuffed her husband around the head and dragged him back into the house. She sighed in relief, shutting the window and drawing the curtains sharply; then, taking a deep breath, s
he walked through to the bathroom where she stared at herself in the mirror above the sink.
‘You’re not up to this,’ she told herself. ‘It’s all going to go horribly wrong if you don’t end it now.’
But she didn’t want to end it. She had real feelings for Ben and she was beginning to believe that he liked her for the woman she truly was and wasn’t just momentarily dazzled by her because of the wish she’d made.
She stared at her reflection for a moment, knowing what she had to do. She had to tell him the truth, didn’t she? Ben was a decent man and, if she had any real feelings for him at all, she would be honest with him.
Getting into bed later that night, she nodded to herself in the darkness. I’m going to do this, she thought. I’m going to tell him the truth.
Chapter 24
There was a letter on Milo’s doormat when he got home with Tiana one evening. A real white envelope without a cellophane window and with a handwritten address. It would have been a nice change from the usual bills and junk mail if only Milo hadn’t known who it was from. Georgio.
He waited until Tiana had skipped along the corridor to her bedroom before he opened it, glaring at the oversized handwriting which seemed to be shouting down at him.
Milo, it began abruptly. You never answer your phone. You refuse to discuss things with us when we visit and you make all sorts of excuses whenever we meet. You leave me no choice but to write to you.
Sonya and I have been talking…
Milo groaned. So they’d been talking again, had they?
…and we really think that Tiana would be better off with us here on the mainland. We’ve been worried about her for some time.
‘Oh, have you?’ Milo said. ‘Like the time she twisted her ankle skipping? Or the time I rushed her to the dentist with a roaring toothache?’
We think that it would be better for her if she was here with Sonya now that she is working from home. Sonya would be here for her constantly – a better choice than an unreliable babysitter.
Milo scoffed at the reference to his beloved and loyal Hanna.
Tiana is growing up fast, the letter went on, causing Milo to physically flinch. His brother’s tone seemed to suggest that Milo wasn’t aware of this fact but he was all too aware of it. Each and every day.
And we think it is selfish of you to keep her in a place that is doing her no favours. Just think of the school for a start.
Milo thought of the tiny school in the next village where the one classroom was half-empty because of the lack of children. He and his brothers had gone there and, he hoped, his own children would go there too. It was constantly threatened with closure but it had somehow struggled through to the twenty-first century and the small classroom size meant individual attention from the teacher. Tiana wouldn’t get that in a big school on the mainland, would she?
The letter went on.
She needs a better class of education and she needs to meet more children of her own age. It just isn’t good enough, Milo—
‘What’s that?’ Tiana asked, surprising Milo, having sneaked into the room. She placed a tiny hand on the letter but Milo quickly whipped it out of her way.
‘Nothing,’ he said in a manner that was far too hasty for Tiana to believe him. ‘It’s just a silly letter begging for money.’
‘Will you give them any?’
‘No,’ he said, scrunching the letter up into the tiniest, tightest ball imaginable, ‘not a single penny.’ He opened the bin and threw the letter inside and then tipped the remains of some soggy cereal from a breakfast bowl on top of it so there’d be no chance of Tiana reaching inside and discovering what it really said.
‘Come on, Tiana,’ he said.
‘But I’ve got to do my homework.’
‘Later – we’re going for a walk first.’
She looked at him as if he’d gone soft in the head but then did as she was told.
They left the house together a couple of minutes later. The air was soft and warm and the ground was dry and firm and already beginning to crack, leaving lizard-like patterns across the land.
Milo did his best thinking when he was outside and he really needed to think hard now. Since his brother’s last visit, he’d tried to put the issue out of his mind but he’d known that it would rear its ugly head again at some point and would have to be faced. He felt truly sad that Georgio and Sonya weren’t able to have children of their own – it must be the most heartbreaking of situations to face when one wanted a child so desperately – but that didn’t give them the right to force Milo’s hand and take Tiana away from him.
They followed the little track from their house towards an olive grove. It belonged to a farmer but he didn’t mind the locals walking amongst his trees. In fact, local legend had it that half of the population for miles around had been conceived in this very grove, which made Milo anxious on summer evenings when Tiana would declare that she was going to play there.
Milo loved the ancient olive trees with their thick, gnarled trunks and sinuous shapes and he had to admit to bringing two or three girlfriends there himself over the years. But now wasn’t a time to think about romantic trysts amongst the trees.
‘Tiana,’ he said at last as they reached a dip in the path, ‘I want you to be absolutely honest with me.’ They sat down in the grass. The earth was still warm after a full day of sunshine upon it.
Tiana looked at him. ‘Am I in trouble?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Why do you ask?’
She shook her head.
‘Tiana?’
She pouted. ‘It wasn’t my fault.’
‘What wasn’t your fault?’
‘That Costas fell over.’
‘I’m sure it wasn’t,’ Milo said, wondering what on earth she’d done.
‘I only pushed him a little bit,’ Tiana confessed.
Milo frowned. He hadn’t been expecting this. ‘Why did you push Costas?’ he asked, thinking of the rotund little boy who, if truth be told, was a horrible bully.
‘Because he said I looked like a donkey,’ Tiana said, her eyes round and watery.
‘You look nothing like a donkey!’ Milo said with a laugh.
‘Well, that’s what I said!’ Tiana said, quickly blinking her tears away.
‘And that’s when you pushed him over?’
Tiana nodded. ‘He’s such a roly-poly, he wouldn’t have felt anything when he fell.’
Milo grinned. He was glad that his little sister could hold her own. He gazed out across the olive grove for a moment, his vision blurring with the silver-green of the trees.
‘Listen,’ he said after a moment, ‘I know we’ve talked a little about this before but I need to hear you say it again.’
‘Say what again?’
‘That you’re happy.’
‘At school?’ Tiana asked.
‘At school. At home. Here on Kethos.’
She nodded. ‘Of course I am. I tell you all the time!’
Milo laughed and picked up her little hand and kissed it. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I just like to hear you say it.’
‘You’re funny,’ she said.
‘It’s just that I want to be sure – absolutely sure – that this is the right place for you because there are choices, you know.’
‘I know,’ she said.
He nodded. ‘And I won’t mind if you decide to go somewhere else.’
‘With Georgio?’
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘You really wouldn’t mind?’
‘No,’ Milo lied. ‘I wouldn’t mind if that was what you wanted.’
‘You mean, you wouldn’t miss me?’
His dark eyes widened. ‘Of course I’d miss you!’
‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’
‘No!’ he said, aghast at the sad look on her face. ‘It’s just that some people might think it unfair that I keep you here.’
‘You mean that’s what Georgio thinks?’
‘Yes.’
&nb
sp; ‘He wants me to live with him, doesn’t he?’
‘Yes, he does,’ Milo said. ‘Because he’s your brother too and he misses you.’
‘But I don’t know him,’ Tiana said and Milo’s heart sang with love at her honesty. Georgio was more like an uncle to Tiana because he’d left home years before she’d been born but perhaps that was the card he was playing – he was older and wiser. Mind you, Milo was old enough to be her uncle too only their relationship was totally different because he’d been around when Tiana had been born. He’d seen her take her first steps and heard her speak her first word. He’d been there for all the firsts, hadn’t he? Whilst Georgio dropped by twice a year for her birthday and for Christmas.
‘If you went to live with Georgio and his wife, life would be very different but it might not be a bad idea for you,’ Milo said, each word squeezed out of him most unwillingly. But he couldn’t put himself first here. He needed to think of Tiana. She would be a teenager before he knew it and then what would happen? Was he sure he’d be able to handle her then? And would she be happy being marooned on an island? He had to think about her. He couldn’t put himself into this equation – it wouldn’t be right or fair.
‘But I like it here,’ she said, plucking at the short grass.
‘But that’s only because it’s all you know,’ Milo said. ‘You could get to know another place just as well as here.’
‘Then why don’t you move?’
Milo flinched. She had an uncanny ability to strike at the very heart of things. ‘Because this is my home,’ he said.
‘And it’s my home too.’
He nodded at her sage statement. There was no arguing with that and he was so relieved to hear it. It was what he’d hoped for, of course, but he had to give his brother a chance because that was only fair, wasn’t it?
‘Good,’ he said, squeezing her hand.
‘Can we go now?’ she asked. ‘My bottom’s gone numb.’
Milo laughed. ‘Mine too,’ he said and they both stood up, brushing each other’s bottoms down.
They walked back through the olive grove together. The sun was beginning to set and the sky was streaked with peach and tangerine. A light wind brought the scent of the sea to them. Milo saw the gentle expression on Tiana’s face and knew that she loved it all as much as he did and that she’d never be able to live anywhere else and for that he was eternally grateful because he knew there was nothing that Georgio could do about that.
Wish You Were Here Page 17
