The Accidental Love Letter
Page 17
What on earth is he doing?
‘I wanted to chat to you about the beaver,’ he says, swinging his legs back and forth like a toddler.
I try not to glower at him.
Of course. Of course he does. What else would my boss want to talk to me about at 11.30 on a Wednesday?
‘Right,’ I say, trying to control my cheeks from burning.
‘Well?’ Duncan grins, skidding to a halt from his relentless spinning. ‘How did you get on? What did you think?’
‘Bea, did you make a coffee? Oh,’ Faye stops by my desk and smiles sweetly, ‘hi, Duncan.’
I glance up at her.
Why is she asking me that? We never make each other coffee.
‘Err . . .’ I look between Faye and Duncan stupidly, ‘yeah, all right.’
‘Did you enjoy it?’ Duncan says hopefully.
No. No, I did not. I hated every second.
‘Yeah,’ I say, wincing as my voice pings up at the end like an elastic band.
Duncan slaps his hands together, a fresh smile splitting his round face. ‘Great!’ he cries. ‘Well, Bea, that was a bit of a test run for you, but I think you did really well! I’d like you to think of your own stories now, find something you want to write about.’ He leans on the desk and looks at me earnestly. I notice Faye leering over.
What does she want?
‘Oh,’ I say, ‘wow. Thank you.’
Something I really want to write about? Does he mean my pitch?
‘Have a think, Albus,’ Duncan says, standing up and smacking his hands together. ‘Best to do something you can really get your teeth stuck into. Something you really care about.’
I smile weakly as I watch Duncan walk away. I feel a warm glow spread across my chest and a small spindle of an idea begins to spin in my mind.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I edge towards Sunfields.
Am I about to break the law?
I glance at my watch. 12.07. I’m three minutes early. A cold bluster of wind wraps around my neck and I shrink into my scarf.
I’m not really breaking the law. I mean, I wouldn’t go to prison for this.
It’s not like I’m wearing a balaclava.
I sneak towards the faded plastic door, wait to be admitted and then push it open with my shoulder. Jakub looks up at me and, for once, I see the shadow of an expression sweep across his face.
Is he pleased to see me?
‘What are you doing here?’
Ah. Of course not.
I smile, ignoring the anxiety leapfrogging about my body like a small cluster of toads.
‘I thought I’d come in today,’ I say lightly, walking straight past Jakub and through the heavy door behind the reception desk. As always, Jakub ignores me.
I poke my head round the door leading to the living room and wave to Gus, who gives me a thumbs up. I follow his gaze and spot an old wheelchair propped up against a table. I feel my heart skip.
I must buy Gus a thank-you present.
Glancing over my shoulder to check Jakub is out of sight, I slip into the living room and march straight up to Nina, who is sitting in the chair facing the window. Sylvia doesn’t look up from Wuthering Heights, but Gus winks at me as I walk past.
‘Hi, Nina,’ I say, dropping down to her level.
Her eyes flit over to me.
‘Hello,’ she replies.
‘I’ve got a surprise for you,’ I say quietly. Before I give Nina the chance to answer, I reach forward and grab the wheelchair. I shake it open and catch Nina’s bewildered stare.
‘What are you doing?’ she asks, her voice hoarse as if it hasn’t been used in days.
‘We’re going out!’ I say brightly.
I steer the wheelchair next to her and hold out my arm for her to hold. Nina looks down at my arm and then back at me. For a moment, she just stares at me and I feel my face twitch in the silence.
‘No, thank you.’
I blink at her, trying to catch my smile as it slips off my face.
No?
I falter. I wasn’t expecting her to say no.
She can’t say no.
‘Come on!’ I say. ‘It’ll be fun!’
I look over my shoulder, my heart racing in my chest.
Come on, Nina. Come on. You have to come with me before Jakub comes in.
Nina moves her head to look back out of the window and locks her gaze on the bare tree, shivering under the ice.
She needs to come with me now. If I leave it much longer, Jakub will notice. Then this will all be for nothing.
I can’t leave it. I need to take her.
I drop down to my knees and rest my hands on her armrest.
‘Nina,’ I say, the brightness of my voice fading away, ‘you’ll like it. I promise.’
I stare at the side of her face.
She needs to come with me.
‘Please.’
Nina’s eyes slowly move towards me, and she locks her eyes on mine. I stare back at her, my body aching as she looks at me.
I reach forward and touch her hand. ‘You can trust me.’
*
‘I can walk, you know,’ Nina says. ‘I don’t need this chair.’
I wince as a pert rucksack thwacks the side of my face and I mumble an awkward apology as I squash into the woman next to me.
I look down at Nina. ‘Gus said you’d be more comfortable in the chair,’ I say carefully, as the bus swings around another corner.
Christ, who the hell is driving this thing?
I glance down at my watch and feel a jolt of nerves. 12.48.
‘Are you hungry?’ I say, leaning closer to Nina. ‘We’ll have lunch soon.’
Nina moves her head towards the window as my question is swallowed by the screeching of a passing horn.
I don’t even know what she eats. Does she have any allergies?
Oh God, what if she’s a vegan?
I curl my hand around the yellow pole and feel my arm tense as the bus tips forward again.
One more stop.
I did leave Jakub a note, telling him exactly where we are going and when we’ll be back. Obviously, he’ll be angry, Jakub seems angry about everything, but at least he won’t be worried. It’s not like I’ve kidnapped Nina. She did get in the wheelchair voluntarily.
Sort of.
I look up as a crowd of teenagers troop down the stairs, all laughing and jostling together. I feel a small jolt of fear as I glance towards Nina, sat in her chair and staring out of the window. Without quite meaning to, I step in front of her like a guard dog. The bus rocks forward past another set of traffic lights and my thumb dings the buzzer. I notice Nina look in my direction in curiosity. She hasn’t asked where we are going. I’m not sure she really cares.
I feel like she doesn’t care about anything.
I grip the handles of Nina’s chair as the bus groans to a stop and push Nina out of the door. The chair jolts at the uneven pavement and I hear Nina grunt as she knocks against the back of the chair.
Shit. Is there a knack to this chair that I don’t understand?
The wet December air swirls around us and I wince as a car streaks past us, spraying us in a shower of blackened icy water.
‘Right!’ I say brightly, trying to make my voice carry over the shriek of traffic. ‘It’s just down here.’ I wheel Nina around and lean my body against the chair to push it down the pavement.
Nina places her hands on the armrests of her chair as we move down the pavement. Small specks of rain fall from the sky and she remains silent.
I glance up at the signs, trying to ignore the creature stirring in the pit of my stomach.
I really thought she’d be more excited about this. I know she doesn’t know where we’re going. But I thought she’d want to go with me, I thought we’d created a bond together.
I thought she liked me.
My fingers grip the handles tightly as I power through the streams of angry-looking people, storming through the pa
vement against the rain.
Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken her out of Sunfields at all. Maybe I should have just left her by the window.
This thought cues a sharp pinch of fear in my heart.
What am I doing? I barely know this woman. I’ve only met her a handful of times, and I’ve barely managed a conversation with her. I’m just assuming that she’d like this when I know nothing about her. I didn’t even ask if she’d want to come.
I push the chair down a small side street, my eyes searching for the sign. Although I don’t need to look at the signs, I know where I’m going. I used to come here all the time.
We don’t have to stay long. If she hates it, then we can go home. We could turn straight around. We could be back home by two thirty. Jakub might not even notice that we’ve gone anywhere.
An icy burst of wind whips the back of my neck and I glance down at Nina. Although she is wrapped up in a big puffa coat (that I forced her into), I can see her bare hands are twitching.
‘We’re almost here,’ I say, my voice dipping as I catch my breath, ‘I’m sure it’s just here . . .’ My voice fades away as I turn another corner and spot the large building. Its old, shining lettering is proudly engraved on the front, exactly how I remember it. As I look up, warmth washes over me.
RICHMOND GARDEN AND BIRD SANCTUARY.
My eyes flick down to Nina and for the first time since I met her, I see her face curve into a smile.
I take a deep breath.
‘I thought we might have better luck seeing a robin here.’
*
I push Nina through the clean, glass door, which slides open invitingly. As soon as we step into the sanctuary, the crisp smell of freshly cut grass nips my nostrils and I feel my heart lift. I notice Nina’s tense grip on her armrest has loosened.
‘So,’ I say, as we make our way through the reception, ‘I thought this might be a nice place to spend the day. I used to come here a lot when I was a child. There are so many birds here and—’
‘I’d like to walk, please.’
I stop in my tracks at the sound of Nina’s ropey voice.
‘I can,’ she says firmly. ‘I’ll be fine.’
I hesitate. She does walk around Sunfields, I’ve seen her.
‘Okay,’ I say, stepping in front of the wheelchair and holding out my arm.
Nina reaches forward, curling her small hand around my bare arm. Her hand is icy cold, and I flinch when she leans her weight on me as she pulls herself upright. Her grip stays firm on my arm as she reaches her full height, and her chocolate button eyes lock on to mine. For a second, we stare at each other, until Nina slowly peels her hand off my arm and stands unsupported.
I step backwards and park the wheelchair by the door, glancing back to Nina, who is watching me.
Please don’t fall over. Please don’t fall over.
‘Okay,’ I start again, ‘I think it’s through here.’ I walk back to Nina and offer her my arm, which she ignores. ‘That’s where they all used to be,’ I add, hearing my voice fade away.
Nina nods, and as we reach the next set of double doors my breath is snatched from my chest.
We’ve entered a giant greenhouse, which arches over thirty feet into the sky. Rays of white sunlight streak through the glass and swirl around us. The greenhouse is filled with proud trees, curling around each other and flexing their branches to show their fat green leaves. As the thick smell swallows me, I feel a hot spark of joy.
I haven’t been here since I was a child. I used to love coming here.
Nina steps forward and I follow her, and we slowly make our way along the light grey path, occasionally masked by the dark shadows of the larger trees. I hear a light tinkling sound coming from a pearly blue pond, dropping specks of water out of a dinky water feature. I look over to Nina, who is looking at an array of fat lily pads, floating on a dark pond.
‘Have you been here before?’ I ask, stepping towards her.
Nina shakes her head. ‘Never,’ she replies.
I glance down at my watch. I’ve worked out that we can stay here for one hour. Ninety minutes at the very most. Any more than that and Jakub would have full licence to kill me.
I glance ahead.
‘Hello!’
I jump slightly as a bright-eyed girl pops up in front of me. Her mocha ponytail swings at the top of her head and she grins at us both.
‘Hello,’ I say politely.
‘Welcome to Richmond Garden and Bird Sanctuary,’ she chirps. ‘What are you hoping to see today?’
I look back at Nina, who is still watching the lily pads.
She’s not going to jump in, is she?
‘The birds,’ I reply. ‘They’re just through the next room, right?’
Nina looks up at my question and steps towards us.
The girl nods. ‘Sure,’ she says, gesturing us to follow her, ‘I’ll show you.’
I start to walk after the girl, checking Nina is by my side, and to my alarm I feel a lump form in my throat.
I really hope she likes it. I really, really hope she likes it.
Please let her like it.
‘So!’ the girl says as we reach a set of large double doors. ‘It’s just through here.’
She punches a square button on the wall and the doors swing open in front of us. As we step forward, the lump swelling in the back of my throat drops.
There is nothing here.
I look around madly at the empty room. There are several trees, towering over us, but not a single bird.
Where are all the birds?
My eyes flit over to Nina’s face, and I see her smile has faded too.
She hates it. Why aren’t there any birds here?
‘Is this the bird sanctuary?’ I say in a small voice.
‘Yes!’ the girl says. She shoots me a large grin and then catches my eye. ‘Look up,’ she adds, nodding her head to the ceiling.
Slowly, my head tips towards the ceiling and I gasp. Hundreds of birds sweep across the ceiling, dipping and weaving in and out of the trees. There are small, zippy green ones, shooting through the air like rockets, and fat grey ones, pocketed together on branches like little balls of cotton wool. I watch in amazement as they dip and dive and all sing together, chirping away to each other like a large, mismatched family.
I twitch as I feel something on my arm, and as I look down, I realise that Nina has curled her arm around mine. Her head is craned backwards as she watches the birds, and I feel my heart grow.
*
‘Here you are.’ The young boy smiles at me as he places a fat teapot on a tray. ‘One pot of Earl Grey tea.’
‘Great,’ I say, sliding my hands out of my sleeves and curling my fingers around the tray, ‘thanks.’
‘That’s five pounds, please,’ he says.
I try to control my face from shooting him a look of outrage.
Five pounds? Five pounds for two cups of tea? Is it made from an actual Earl?
I scrabble around in my pockets and manage to fish out my flimsy debit card.
I don’t even know if I like Earl Grey. I only bought it because that’s what Nina wanted, and I wanted to seem cultured.
I tap my card on the machine and feel my chest coil in anticipation.
Please don’t get declined. Please don’t get declined.
It’s the eighth of December. I get paid on the first. I’ve literally just been paid. The rent and all of the bills come out on the second. I definitely still have five pounds in my account. Surely. I must do.
The card machine beeps approvingly and the boy glances up at me.
Oh, thank God.
I pick up the tray and turn on the spot, thick fumes of perfumed tea swirling from the spout of the teapot.
Urgh, that smells disgusting.
Why does it smell like some kind of horrible witches’ potion?
I make my way towards Nina, who is seated in a violet chair and smiling in my direction. Her hands
are folded neatly and resting on the circular table and for the first time since I’ve met her, her shoulders are no longer sunk into her frame.
She looks happy.
I feel my face ping into a grin as I reach her.
‘A pot of Earl Grey . . .’ I say, sliding the tray on to the table.
Nina moves her hands, her mouth curving into a smile.
We spent forever in the bird house. It was as if the beating wings showered us with glue, welding our bodies to the ground. The only part of us that moved was our eyes, which skimmed across the room at each bird that dipped and dived. Apart from the light chatter between them, there was no sound at all.
I could have stayed in there all day.
That is, apart from the incessant anxiety nipping at my brain at the idea of Jakub finding my note and Nina being away from the home a second longer than the three hours that I promised.
I pull a small china teacup towards me.
‘Would you like some?’ I ask Nina, reaching my hand towards the teapot.
‘No,’ Nina says at once, freezing my hand instantly, ‘not yet. You have to let it brew.’
I blink at her.
What?
Nina catches my expression.
‘You have to let the tea brew,’ she says, lifting a finger towards the teapot. ‘It won’t be ready yet.’
‘Oh.’
I drop my hand on to the table.
Gosh. I’d hate for her to see how I make tea at home in my Sports Direct mug.
Can you add sugar to Earl Grey? I think I’m going to need about six.
‘Thank you for bringing me today.’ Nina looks up at me.
I smile. ‘That’s okay!’ I say instantly, in my usual stretched expression of glee.
It’s the same voice I use for everything. When Angela asks me to reload the paper in the photocopier, or when Emma apologises for never taking out the bins ever, ever, ever.
It’s like I’m on autopilot. I don’t even mean it. I just hear myself say it.
‘I’m sorry there weren’t any robins here,’ I add, shifting in my seat.
Nina looks up at me and smiles.
I was desperate for us to see a robin. I didn’t even think to look before. I mean, it’s a bird sanctuary, I thought it would be a given.
‘Did you tell Nathan?’
I jump as Nina’s soft voice breaks my thoughts.