Sunshine Over Wildflower Cottage (34 page)

A moment of intense lip-biting ensued.

‘When we buried him, a robin flew into the church. Do you remember, Linda, I said “That’s your father, that is”.’

‘I remember,’ nodded Linda.

‘It flew all around the church and then landed on the coffin.’

‘Really?’ said Caro, tears bursting from her eyes from the effort of keeping herself in check.

‘Oh aye,’ said Linda. ‘Then it flew up again and crapped on the organist.’

Caro couldn’t hold it back then. She unleashed her laughter and the others followed suit.

‘All down his black jacket. There he was, happily playing away “The Lord is my Shepherd” with half a pint of robin shit down his back.’

Caro gestured for Linda to stop because she couldn’t breathe.

‘I knew it was your father because he hated that song. He said it always reminded him of funerals,’ said Iris.

‘Well, why did you pick it then, Mum?’

‘I shouldn’t have. I got persuaded into it by the priest. Your father wouldn’t have wanted any hymns, least of all that one. That’s how I knew he was that robin. It’s the sort of thing he would have done.’

‘What, crapped on an organist?’

‘Linda, don’t be so disgusting. This is your father you’re talking about!’

Even Gaynor was laughing so hard that her stomach muscles ached. For a minute or so the room was engulfed in a cloudburst of much-needed tension-releasing mirth.

‘Oh, it’s been a mess this week for us, hasn’t it?’ said Linda, recovering now. ‘All of us laughing one minute, crying the next. I’ve felt like I’m on a bloody roller-coaster; I think I’m going to book in for one of your stress-busting massages, Caro.’

‘Just ring me when you’re free,’ replied Caro. That brought the subject back round to Stel for her. ‘Hey, has anyone seen Stel’s new fella yet?’

No one had.

‘She came to see me this week for a massage,’ said Caro, tapping her lip as she reflected. ‘I didn’t pay much attention to it at the time but later, I wondered if she was sounding me out.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Linda.

‘I might be overthinking this but . . . well . . . something she said . . .’ she rubbed her forehead as if it were a magic lamp and would bring the words to the front of her mind exactly as Stel had put them. ‘She said that he wouldn’t let her see the dessert menu when they went out for a meal. She wanted to know what I thought about that and asked me if Eamonn had ever done that sort of thing.’

‘What are you getting at, Caro?’ said Gaynor.

‘She was stressed to hell. It was like trying to massage a bag of breeze blocks. Add to the mix that nonsense about not wearing make-up . . .’

‘Hmm,’ said Linda, putting that all together. ‘Do you think this Ian might be a bit controlling?’

‘I have no idea,’ replied Caro. ‘But maybe we should keep our eye on her. You know what Stel’s like where fellas are concerned. She couldn’t pull out a good one in a bucket full of Liam Neesons.’

‘We’ll ask her some subtle questions when we’re all together tomorrow,’ decided Gaynor. It might have been her husband’s funeral but she couldn’t help him any more. She could, however, help a friend if she were in need.

Chapter 75

Ursula still refused to come to Viv. She was happy enough to grant permission for Viv to be in her space, but she sat steadfastly on her highest branch and wouldn’t budge. It was early evening; Viv would have liked to have thought that it wasn’t the usual time for interaction and that was disorientating the Snowy too much for her to play ball, but she couldn’t fool herself. Ursula somehow could see into her soul and knew what she was and hated her.

‘Any chance of some advice, Ursula?’ said Viv. ‘I’m stuck. I’m stuck in the middle of a right old mess.’

Ursula fixed Viv with her bright yellow eyes.

‘You see, I came here to do one thing. I thought that would be the difficult bit, but I can’t tell you how easy it turned out to be. Just being here, this is the hard part, the
really
hard part, and I didn’t expect that.’ She tried to whistle the sound that Ursula would recognise. Viv blinked because she couldn’t see any more. Tears were dripping down her cheeks, down her chin. She could smell the salt in them as they slid past her nose.

‘I never wanted to fall in love with you all,’ sniffed Viv. ‘I’ve got to think of myself though, haven’t I? I don’t want anyone to hate me.’

Ursula bowed her head. Was she offering her consent? There was no warmth in those sunshine-yellow eyes though.

‘I don’t know what to do. And I can’t ask anyone. Which is why I’m sitting in a cage and talking to an owl.’ She laughed at the absurdity of it.

She wouldn’t even talk to Hugo about it. He thought she’d told him the whole story, but she hadn’t. She couldn’t.

Viv’s head dropped onto her chest and she sobbed. Heath had driven up to look at Mr Mark and Mr Wayne’s poodle Douglas; Geraldine couldn’t have walked as far as the aviary. There was no one to hear her but the animals.

Then Viv felt a soft whoosh. Ursula had flown to the floor in front of her. Viv raised her glove and Ursula hopped onto it. There had been no food to entice her, she had just come because she wanted to. She didn’t feel threatened as Viv touched the back of her head, her fingers smoothing over the thick, soft, deep plumage. A Snowy’s colouring was her camouflage, so she could disguise herself against the snow to strike without warning.

Strike without warning.

Those words gave Viv a Eureka moment. She not only knew what she was doing to do but, more importantly, how she was going to do it.

Chapter 76

Stel didn’t really enjoy the pictures. She hadn’t been in the mood for going and would rather have seen her friends but she put on a show of gratitude for Ian. She’d had to pay for the tickets because he’d left his wallet at home – because they’d argued and she’d made him forget it, he said. Anyway, he said, it was about time she stuck her hand in her pocket for something because he was always buying things for her. He made Stel feel mean and so she overcompensated to prove that she wasn’t and bought popcorn and drinks and nachos. She could have bought a small house for less.

He was quiet on the drive home and when they got back and put on the TV, she could tell his mind must have been chewing on something because he had a faraway look in his eyes. Even though they were focused on the screen, he wasn’t in the room.

‘Would you like a cup of coffee?’ asked Stel tentatively at ten o’clock.

He turned his head slowly towards her. ‘No, but I’d like to see your phone,’ he said.

That came from left field. She gave a small laugh of confusion. He fluttered his fingers at her in a ‘give me’ motion.

‘What do you want to see my phone for?’

‘If you don’t have anything to hide from me, Stelly, you’ll show me what’s on your phone.’

He sounded like an automaton.

Stel didn’t have anything to hide so she got it out of her bag and handed it to him.

‘You’ve got a passcode on it. What is it?’

Stel felt an odd swirl of anxiety inside her.

‘2-5-1-2. Christmas Day,’ she said.

His thumb moved deftly over the screen. ‘Who’s David?’ he said.

‘David? I don’t know a David,’ said Stel.

‘Just testing,’ he smiled. But there was an unpleasant twist to his mouth.

He was scrolling down her messages. She had loads of them because she hardly ever deleted them. She tried to think if there were any that she wouldn’t want him to see. Had she texted any details about him to the Old Spice Girls? Or were there any ancient emails from Matchmaker.com still lurking in her files? She felt her heart flutter with apprehension and when he tossed the phone back to her, she felt a ridiculous surge of relief rush through her.

‘Why would you think I was hiding something?’ she asked.

‘Women always hide things from men,’ he replied flatly.

The atmosphere in the house felt as if it had been doused with petrol and one incendiary word would have blown the walls apart.

‘You do remember I’m going to a funeral tomorrow,’ she said, quietly, tentatively, ‘so we’ll have to travel in to work separately.’

‘Convenient,’ he replied, clicked off the TV and marched up to bed without another word. She found his cold back waiting for her and she was glad of that.

Chapter 77

Viv said that she needed a couple of hours off the next morning to go and see the doctor in Mawton. She was slightly worried about her back, she said. After what had happened when Armstrong knocked her over, no one had grounds to disbelieve her. Heath offered to drive her but she said she was fine. There was no need for any fuss.

Viv drove up the hill but took a left instead of a right. She parked her car on the grass verge and took from the boot a tin of white emulsion and a brush that she’d found in the maintenance stores at the sanctuary. She walked down the bridle path that she had taken the afternoon of the storm, climbed over the gate and made sure she swung past the eyes of the security cameras. One had been adjusted to cover the stable door now, probably after her last visit.

Viv opened the can, dipped in the brush, painted a message on the stable door. And she waited.

Chapter 78

It took ten minutes for the Range Rover to arrive. It crunched over the gravel with angry tyres and an even angrier driver at the wheel: Nicholas Leighton. Viv noted that Victoria was in the passenger seat. She and her husband had come alone. They’d understood. And they were taking her seriously.

Nicholas Leighton threw open the door of the car and marched silently over to Viv with fire blazing in his eyes. He had a golf club in his hand and as he was steps away from her, he swung it aggressively. Viv covered her head with her hands and shrieked, expecting to feel its impact. Instead she heard a crunch and realised that he had smashed the security camera that covered the defaced door, but his action had been intended to intimidate her also.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing here?’ Victoria Leighton got out of the car. She appeared elegant and assured with her long dark hair falling around her shoulders, but her arms were crossed defensively across her chest and her movements were twitchy.

Nicholas was blasting the door with water from a nearby hosepipe. The six large numbers written in white paint were melting away into the water. She knew that message would have them coming to her as soon as they saw it. No security, no police, no Antonia in tow.

‘Answer me,’ demanded Victoria. ‘What are you doing here?’

Viv hadn’t realised she had been holding on to her breath until her lungs overrode the manual control. She exhaled long and slowly before she told them: ‘I’m your daughter.’

*

Heath opened the door to clean Ursula’s aviary and the owl immediately got on her high horse with him. He grinned.

‘No use griping at me, Ursula,’ he said. ‘Viv is otherwise engaged this morning.’ He looked up at the snowy owl, lifting her wings, making herself appear like an avenging angel.

‘What is it that you like about her so much, eh?’ he said. ‘What has she got that I haven’t?’

Ursula pinned her great yellow eyes on him, watching his every move.

‘I’ve fed you for years and do I get as much as a head bow? Nope.’ He smiled at her. ‘And yet along comes a woman who would probably have fed you Trill if I hadn’t been here to teach her and you’re all over her like a rash.’

He cupped his hand around his ear. ‘What’s that you say? She does a really entertaining play with condiments? Okay, I’ll give you that one. And her cheese pie is good? How did you know that, Ursula? And of course, as you say, she’s a mean shot with a bucket of dirty water. These are all important things to you, are they?’

And she hasn’t stopped working since she got here and it feels like she’s been here forever. And she threw her arms around a boy whose heart was breaking and got hurt for it. And that’s why you love her, Ursula.

And Heath Merlo thought he could see where the bird was coming from.

*

There was a pin-drop silence to end all pin-drop silences and the only sound was the hosepipe falling to the floor. Then Victoria Leighton started to hyperventilate and her husband ran to her side.

‘You recognised my birthdate then?’ said Viv.

‘I knew, when I saw her. I knew there was something . . .’ Victoria was borderline hysterical. Nicholas pulled her around the corner and started talking to her in a growling whisper. He returned alone, leaving his wife out of sight to calm down, recalibrate.

‘We have no idea what you’re talking about. Can you please explain yourself.’ He looked in total command, not ruffled at all. He was used to holding his ground though and he had an army of people who could get his own way for him. He was not in the habit of being at a disadvantage.

He smelled of very expensive cologne, oakmoss, cedar, a bold pop of lavender in the mix that bloomed into the air when his skin heated, as it was doing now if the rising colour in his cheeks was anything to go by.

As she started to speak, Viv was aware of her left leg shaking, as if it was the pressure valve to the rest of her body. ‘You had me on Saturday, March the twenty-first 1992 in Hallamshire Hospital.’

Victoria appeared at the corner. Viv caught the drift of her scent and it was of a woman much older than she was: a drench of cinnamon with a heavy dust of powder. Viv lifted no sweet notes from her at all.

‘I’ve had plenty of time to imagine what might have happened but let me see how close I am. Scans showed you were carrying a very imperfect baby when it was far too late and dangerous to abort. The only real option was to go through with the birth.’

Nicholas Leighton said nothing but his hand was clenching and unclenching at his side.

‘The labour started earlier than you expected. You had to get to a hospital, but not the nearest one in case you saw anyone you knew. The Hallamshire was just far enough away to dump
it,
then you could get on with your lives. The baby was so premature that chances were it would die anyway.’

Victoria Leighton was clinging on to her husband now, thirsty for his comfort and protection.