Sunday's Child (5 page)

“Did she have to go far?”

Hattie nodded. “Not too far away. They live about forty-five miles from here. Normally Di manages fine by herself when Brendan's away, but with a small baby, and being sick, she needed a hand this time.”

“I can understand that.” He paused. “I know people sometimes mock the TA's, but they are just as important as the regular army blokes.”

She nodded. “Yeah, they are. Brendan loves doing it. Says it gives him a focus outside of home and work and is a way for him to give something back to his country.”

The lights changed and they crossed the road. “How many children do they have?”

“Five, including the baby. Penny says Di's rushed off her feet with the four little ones as it is, doesn't know how they'll manage with five. The oldest is eleven.”

“Wow, that's a lot of kids.” Cal glanced at her. From the look on her face it was a painful subject so he changed it. “So, where does an hotelier go on holiday? Another hotel or is that too much of a busman's holiday?”

“Definitely a busman's holiday and not my scene.” She paused. “I was meant to go away fairly soon, but whether that will happen now I don't know.”

“Oh?”

“Steve's talking about going to go and help Penny, the week I wanted to go away. And he doesn't like us all being away at the same time.”

He glanced at her. Her shoulders had slumped and she looked downcast at the thought of missing out on her trip.
So much for picking a neutral subject, Cal Nice one.
“Won't that leave you on your own if he goes?”

“He's talking about possibly getting someone in to help, but...” She shrugged. “I'll just have to see how things go I guess.”

“Is your holiday booked?”

“I'm staying with my aunt so it's flexible. As far as he's concerned, it's just driving to the coast and staying with family and not a holiday. Therefore it's not booked in the proper sense of the word and doesn't count.”

“If it was booked anywhere else, or you had flights or something, you wouldn't be able to change it so easily.”

Hattie held his gaze. “I know. And yes, he does take advantage, but he's my brother and—”

He nodded. “It makes it harder to put your foot down and insist on some me time, doesn't it? But everyone needs a break. Even you. So pick another week, book it and don't tell him where you're going.”

“That's an idea. Maybe I will.”

“You could still go stay with your aunt, just don't tell him that until you get there.”

Hattie nodded. “I might just do that when I get home. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” A faint smile crossed her lips.

His heart leapt at the thought of having made her smile. The gravel path crunched under his feet as they began to walk along the river. He undid his jacket and checked his camera and phone were secure in the inside pocket. “I don't remember the last time I had a holiday.”

“Really?” She sounded amazed. “Surely you'd have gone away during the off season?”

Cal laughed. He pulled off his tie and rolled it, before sliding it into his pocket. “There rarely is an off season in football anymore. Especially with all the European, and World Cup matches there are now. Not to mention the friendlies and even Olympics.”

Her grin lit her face. “Even when England always got knocked out in the first round?”

“Especially then.” He smiled back, moving aside to let a woman jogger pass them. “You may mock, but it's not easy having the hopes and dreams of an entire nation on your shoulders all the time. Every British tennis player will tell you that.”

“True. It's been a long time since we won any singles titles. At least on home soil.”

He undid the first two buttons on his shirt. “But winning isn't everything. It's the taking part that matters.”

Hattie looked at him, brows arched in shock.

“What's that look for?” He stopped and sat on a bench. He patted the space beside him.

She sat, her perfume wafting over him. “I just didn't expect to hear you say that. I thought winning would mean everything to you. The ‘be all and end all' kind of everything.”

“At one point maybe. You get so caught up in the whole—” he gesticulated, trying to think of the correct word “—shebang, that it's just a massive cycle it's not easy to break out of. It's like your whole life is dominated by being here simply to score and win matches. Some players are just so driven by the bonuses that they do anything to win.”

“Like cheat and dive all the time to get penalties and free kicks?”

He took a deep breath, looking back out over the river and the ducks swimming on the surface. “Some do, I never did. The whole ‘ref he tripped me up' routine used to annoy me something chronic and it still does. In fact, when I was captain, I used to forbid the team to do it. I'd make a point of telling them that if they go down, unless they're physically incapable of it, they get up and carry on.”

“Too right. That's why I prefer rugby.” She paused and put her hand over her mouth, blushing in a most delightful manner. “Oops.”

He roared with laughter. “I'll pretend I didn't hear that.”

She laughed with him. “Sounds good to me.”

Cal opened his backpack and pulled out the sandwiches he'd bought. He offered her one. “I hope cheese and tomato is all right.”

“Cheese and tomato is great, thank you. My favorite combination.”

He smiled and pulled out two bottles of juice. He gave her one and said grace. He opened his sandwich and turned his attention back to the river. “It really is beautiful here.”

Hattie followed his gaze. “It is. Have you seen the abbey ruins yet?”

“No, I haven't.” He glanced at her. “I didn't even realize Headley Cross had an abbey.”

“It was destroyed during the dissolution of the monasteries. The stones gradually got used in other buildings over the years, but there's still a fair amount left. The gardens are beautiful.”

“I will have to go and see them. Whereabouts are they?”

Hattie tilted her head and pointed. “See that stone bridge just over there? Go under there and you're in the gardens. The abbey is just beyond them.”

“I shall go and see them tomorrow. Thank you.”

“Welcome. Then a little further downstream is the weir. That is really worth seeing, even on a calm day like today. During a storm it's incredible.”

“I'm sure it is. How far along is it?”

“Not far. Five minutes if that. I'll show you once we've eaten.”

“I'd like that. Have you always wanted to run a guest house?”

She sipped the juice. “No. I wanted to be a ballerina.”

“Really? You dance?”

“Not anymore. I loved ballet and even though I say so myself, I was pretty good at it and used to get the lead a fair amount. But I broke my leg when I was fourteen. I fell out of a tree and after six weeks in a cast, I couldn't go en-point anymore. They didn't know why. The break had healed perfectly, without the need for surgical intervention. I just didn't have the strength in my lower legs any longer. I was heartbroken.”

“I bet you were. Dare I ask why you were climbing a tree at the age fourteen?” He took another bite of his sandwich.

“I was trying to impress my brother's friend.”

He tilted his head. “Did it work?”

Hattie laughed wryly. “Oh it worked all right. He was so impressed by my inability to climb a tree that he never spoke to me again. Of course, it didn't help that I landed on his brand new skateboard and broke it, either.”

He pointed his bottle at her. “His loss.”

“In more ways than one. I decided at that point that boys weren't worth it.”

“Really?”

She finished her sandwich and rubbed her hands on her skirt. “Yep. I mean I ruined what could have been a glittering career.”

“And a skateboard,” he added, collecting the rubbish together.

“And a skateboard,” she said wryly, brushing the crumbs off her lap. “And for what? To attempt to get the attention of someone who never spoke to me again, even after we replaced it. I have remained uninterested in the male of the species ever since.” She stood. “Shall we go and see the weir?”

“Sure.” He dumped the rubbish in a bin and slid his back pack on again.

They started walking, his hand inches from hers. He had no compulsion to hold it, like the old Cal would have done. He was content simply to be with her, enjoy the moment and her company. “What did you do once your leg healed?”

“I left the dance academy and started at the local comprehensive school. I chose different exam courses, ones that didn't involve music or dance or sport. Then I went to college and did catering, purely because I liked cooking and the teacher said I was good at it. Steve always wanted to run a guest house, and when the lodge came on the market, he bought it on a whim. As I was a qualified caterer, he asked me to help. So I put all my savings into helping buy it and started working there.”

Wait a minute…She cooked? Was she really responsible for all the wonderful meals I've had over the past few days?

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Most of the time. Some days I'd rather do something else, but I guess that's like any job and here we are at the weir.”

“Yes, here we are.” He leaned over the barrier, looking down at the fast flowing water tumbling and pounding over the rocks. “That is amazing.”

“And it's relatively calm today.”

“It must be awesome during a storm.”

“It is. And after a lot of rain, as well. The water comes off the Downs and pours through here.”

“Does it flood?”

“Sometimes, yeah. I've got some photos of the whole area under a good two feet of water that I took last winter.”

Cal watched two children playing along the water's edge. Their parents stood close by, keeping tabs on them. He automatically scanned the riverside for lifebelts and buoys and shook his head as both marked posts were empty. “Someone should tell the council that the lifebelts are missing.”

Hattie followed his gaze. “The kids keep stealing them. They end up in trees or on roof tops, but I'll call them when we get in.”

He nodded, deciding to do the same thing. The more people that complained, the better chance there was of the equipment being replaced. The problem was they needed to be accessible to everyone all the time and therefore couldn't be locked away to keep them safe.

The two children ran along the edge, tossing the ball back and forth. The water thundered and twisted beneath them.

He pulled out his camera and took several photographs, wondering about taking one of Hattie without her noticing. Deciding against it, he shot her what he hoped was a winning smile. “Pose for me? It'd make a good picture for your wall in the dining room. I noticed there isn't one of the weir there.”

“Sure.”

He lined up the shot and took several photos at differing angles. As he put the camera back in its case, there was a scream and a loud splash. Glancing down, he saw one child on the river bank and a brief glimpse of a dark head in the raging torrent below.

Instinctively he shoved the camera at Hattie, stripped off his jacket, and toed off his shoes. He climbed onto the railing, took three rapid deep breaths, prayed the water was deeper than it looked, and dived in.

 

 

 

 

5

 

The water was cold and sent ripples of shock searing through Cal. His fingertips grazed the base of the river bed as he pushed upwards. He surfaced and glanced around, not seeing the child. One of the adults on shore pointed to his left. The current was stronger than he realized, trying to pull him downstream towards the weir. And if it was having that effect on him, being such a strong swimmer, then a child wouldn't stand a chance.

He caught a glimpse of something red, and swam hard in that direction. It vanished just as he reached it and he dived down to search. Grabbing hold of it, he kicked for the surface. Terrified eyes looked at him. He drew in a deep breath. “You're all right. I've got you. Hold on to me tightly.”

“O—K…”

Cal started for the shore. The weir was getting closer and the last thing he wanted to do was go over it. Rescues were second nature to him and inch by inch, with telegram prayers, he gained precious distance between him and the weir.

Finally, he was within touching distance of the bank. Arms stretched towards him and he handed the child to his parents. He hauled himself up. Water streamed from his clothes, and dripped from his hair into his eyes. He rubbed both hands over his face, his breathing coming hard and fast. A crowd had gathered and applause broke out.

Ignoring them and the way his body shook as the adrenaline began to drain from his system, he hunkered down next to the child whose mother was now sobbing and holding him tightly. He sucked in a deep, teeth-chattering breath. “Are y-you OK?”

“Y-yes.” The wide-eyed child coughed, clinging to his mother.

“Th-that's good. I'm Cal…” He held out a hand.

The child held it tightly. “T-T-Thomas.”

Cal grinned. “That's a good name.” As he stood, Thomas's father touched his hand.

“Thank you so much for saving him.”

“You're w-welcome.” He shook the man's hand. “I'm just g-glad I w-was there.”

“Cal!”

He turned as a panicked Hattie came running over to him, carrying his shoes and jacket. He attempted a reassuring smile. “We're OK, j-just wet.”

An ambulance with lights and sirens going pulled up, and he moved out of the way. “I need to g-get back and ch-change.”

“Shouldn't you get checked over too?”

He shook his head, glad all the attention was now on Thomas and not him. “Let's just g-go. I d-d-don't want a f-fuss.” He shook hard as he put his jacket and shoes on, cold despite the warmth of the sun.