The Faerie Tree (17 page)

Chapter Thirty-Six

I deserve a serious hangover – perhaps it is because I slept like a log I don't have one. I have no idea how long I did sleep; it's half past seven now but who knows when I went to bed. I think I know how I got here though, but for a moment I wonder if I dreamt it. I raise myself on one elbow; my jeans are folded on my bedroom chair – it isn't where I'd have left them after a few glasses of wine.

As well as a hangover I deserve nothing but shame and embarrassment. I feel neither. I feel strangely calm, because the thing I remember most about last night is Robin saying that if I asked him into my bed when I was sober then he wouldn't turn me down. Perhaps I did imagine that, but no, it is there, along with the memory of his touch on my leg and my jeans on the chair.

The house is silent – Robin must still be asleep. The pump of my shower might wake him so instead I wash with warm water from the basin, brush my hair to get the tangles out, and clean my teeth. I have to admit that my mouth is not at its best this morning. I gulp two glasses of water from the cold tap, the chill of it gripping my throat.

I look myself up and down in my bathroom mirror. My buttocks are almost nothing but at least my breasts are pert. Still,
it isn't the greatest of bodies these days – I am forty-four, after all – and I don't quite have the gall to go to him naked. Instead I pull a candy-striped nightshirt over my head; it looks casual, but it's short enough to help me to feel sexy. Lord, I need that help right now.

With every step along the landing I expect to lose my nerve, but the thought of what might happen if I don't do this is driving me on; at worst, a lifetime of what ifs – at best, a day of not looking each other in the eye.

Robin is lying on his back with his hands behind his head. He doesn't move when he sees me, but a muscle under his beard twitches.

“How are you feeling this morning?” he asks.

“Better than I deserve really. And I'm sober.”

The word hangs between us but he says nothing.

“Did you mean it?” I blurt out.

His Adam's apple bobs up and down. “Did you?”

“Yes.”

Before he has a chance to reply I slip under the duvet. In a single movement he turns and pulls me to him, holding me as tightly as he can. His naked skin is warm and I sink into him, an enormous sense of safety filling me from head to toe – I have found him, I've found my Robin again.

Of course, we make love. I expected it to feel familiar, but instead it is shiny and new, as if we have never done this before. Robin recognises it too. It must be what prompts him to tell me he has waited a lifetime for this moment. Was it worth the wait? When he tells me yes I purr like a cat and he laughs then starts to kiss me again, his beard a soft tickle on my skin.

Later, he pulls me out of my reverie by asking what time I have to pick up Claire. We are scarily close to it and he leaps out of bed saying that he will go and I should finish my marking so we can all have an outing this afternoon.

“Where to?” I ask him.

He pauses, one leg half way into his jeans. “Not Kimmeridge. That's just for us.”

I feel myself glowing. “I didn't understand last night.”

He frowns. “I'm not sure I understand this morning, either, so let's hold off on telling Claire until we've had time to talk.”

My glow stops. “You're not regretting it, are you?”

He zips his fly and walks back towards the bed, then stoops to kiss me. “My only regret is that we didn't do it twenty years ago.”

And that leaves me feeling very puzzled, because we did.

Robin

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The day Izzie and I first made love was unreal. I had to keep pinching myself to make sure it was actually happening.

That afternoon we went to Highcliffe to hunt for shark teeth. Izzie and Claire didn't believe me, but as we scoured the sand at the edge of the tide I found one within minutes. They gathered close, marvelling at its sharpness, and I told them about the Jurassic Sea and the animals that swam in it fifty million years ago. Izzie's hand touched mine as she took the tooth from me and slipped it into her pocket.

Claire and I trawled the beach for more hidden treasure while Izzie sat on a bank of shingle, watching the surfers.

“I've never surfed,” Claire said when we joined her, “but it looks awesome. Have you, Robin?”

“Yes. When I was a student and then… one summer… I went to Newquay and worked in a surf shop and for a surf school. I was on the beach a lot that year.”

“Wow – I'd love to go to Newquay.” Claire looked at Izzie from under her fringe. “Actually, Mum, Sasha and some of the others from school are planning a week there after our exams. Do you think I could go with them?”

I watched Izzie's fingers clench around the shingle she was sifting. “Who's organising the trip? Will somebody's parents be going?”

Claire shook her head. “We'd be staying in a hostel with other groups and doing a proper surf course, so we'd be supervised, but the idea is that we go on our own.”

“Oh, I don't know, Claire. If you want to learn to surf perhaps Robin could teach you instead?”

“Well I'm very rusty, but whether or not Claire goes to Newquay I'll certainly take her out a few times to get the feel of it. But not until the weather's warmer,” I added. “Those guys out there today must be nuts – it's freezing.”

“That's great, Robin. Maybe Mum would worry less if I could already surf.”

“What I don't like is the idea of you going away on your own – you'll only be seventeen, after all.” Izzie wrapped her coat more tightly around her.

“I bet driving a car's more dangerous than surfing,” Claire muttered.

“Then perhaps I won't let you do that either,” Izzie snapped back. She looked up at me, eyes pleading for support.

“Listen, Claire, it's unreasonable to expect your mother to say yes when she knows nothing about this trip and it does all sound a little vague. Why don't you get some more information together? When do you have to decide?”

Claire picked up a pebble then dropped it. “Not for a little while – next month probably. But what's the point if Mum's going to say no anyway?”

Izzie sighed. “I'm not going to say no anyway. Robin's right, I need more information and more time.”

That pacified Claire – sort of. As we walked up the cliffs to the car park she dragged behind us and kept turning back to watch the surfers.

Izzie touched my hand. “So when did you go to parenting class?”

“Did I overstep the mark?”

“Not at all. I don't feel such an inadequate lone parent when you're around.”

I wanted to hug her but I couldn't. We would have to tell Claire about us first.

On Sunday morning we strolled into Bishops Waltham for a coffee while Claire got on with her homework. Over latte and croissants at Josie's, Izzie's hand stretched across the table and snuck into mine.

“I missed you last night.”

I lifted her fingers to my mouth and kissed them. “I missed you. I want this settled today, Izzie – it's too hard when we've waited this long.”

“But what is there to settle? We just need to tell Claire and then everything will be fine.”

“But what do we tell her? What are we, Izzie?”

Two little furrows appeared between her eyebrows. “I'm not sure what you mean.”

I set her hand free so that she could pick up her mug. “Well, if we weren't living under the same roof already there would be a period of courtship. We'd go out a few times, then perhaps you'd ask me to stay, and I would, but not every night. Then, after a while, if it was all going well, maybe we'd talk about moving in together. But the reality is that we're already there.”

“I don't see why that's a problem.”

“I'm not saying it's a problem, but we need to know where we are on the continuum.” I grinned at her. “What I really want to know is am I courting you from the spare room or are we going to be tucked under the duvet together every night?”

She laughed and looked at me in a way that took me straight back to Jennifer's bathroom in 1986. “You come to my room tonight, mister, and I'm not letting you go. Even if I have to chain you to the bed. But seriously, Robin, it's not as if we don't know each other. And Claire likes you so it's not going to be an issue. I know we can make it work this time.”

“Last time we didn't have a chance. Mum died and… it felt
as though it was all my fault. I couldn't cope, Izzie – I ran away. I didn't deserve you.”

“Oh, Robin. I was just as much to blame.”

It was an odd comment but I ignored it – I didn't want to keep looking back over my shoulder at the past.

Izzie wanted us to tell Claire together but I was adamant she should do it alone because if I was there it wouldn't give Claire the opportunity to express her concerns. And she was bound to have them; her father hadn't been dead six months – this was frighteningly fast by anyone's standards. So when we got home I put on my gardening trousers and my wellingtons and went outside while Izzie climbed the stairs to Claire's bedroom.

It is hard to find things to do in a garden in early February, so I took the bird feeders off the apple tree and gave them a good clean under the outdoor tap. As I was blowing on my fingers to warm them I noticed there was a corner of the lawn which looked particularly damp so I got a fork out of the shed and started to spike it. I was just finishing when I felt someone watching me.

I turned around. “Well, what do you think, Claire?”

“You've missed a bit – just behind your left foot.”

I speared the ground again. “You know that wasn't what I meant.”

She smiled. “You and Mum? I'm OK about it. No – that's wrong – I guess I'm really pleased. It's the best thing for her.”

“But it's too soon after your dad?”

She shook her head. “No, Mum needs you now. Time wouldn't make any difference. It's just, well, a bit odd.”

I folded my hands on my fork. “I will never take your father's place Claire, nor would I want to.”

She smiled at me. “No, what's odd is that I think my father took yours.”

That took me aback alright. “Oh, come on Claire…”

“No, really. Mum said you were old flames and the way she lights up around you, the way she looks at you – it was never like that between her and Dad.”

“That's just the difference between a new relationship and an old one. Let's face it, Claire; by the time you were old enough to notice how your parents were with each other they'd have been together more than ten years. Your mother and I have been together about ten minutes.”

“But what about before?”

“We never even got off the ground. It was all just starting when my mother died and it pole-axed me completely. I was in no fit state to be any good to anyone.”

Claire frowned. “That's funny – Mum gave me the impression it was more.”

I looked back towards the house. “Inside our hearts I think it probably was. I was head over heels in love with her, Claire, and even if she felt half of that for me it would have been a pretty big thing. But that's all ancient history now and everything happens for a reason. We've been given another chance, that's the main thing.”

Out of nowhere, Claire hugged me. “You're going to be so good for Mum. Thank you, Robin – I'm so happy it's you.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

The hiss of tyres stilled on the drive then the engine cut out. But there was a longer than normal pause before the car door slammed and a blast of icy air from the hall heralded Izzie's arrival.

“The fairies have got a surprise for you!” I called.

There was no reply.

“Izzie?”

Her briefcase thudded onto the parquet. “What?”

I was about to repeat myself but one look at her face silenced me. I reached towards her and traced the lines under her eyes with my index finger. “What's wrong?”

For a moment I thought she was going to cry but she blinked and shook her head. “Nothing… I mean, I think I might be going down with something.” Her eyes glanced past me and locked onto the coffee table. “Champagne, Robin? Have you won the lottery?”

“Some days I think I have.”

She cuffed me on the top of my arm. “Idiot. What's it in aid of?”

“A half term safely navigated, a table booked at Regginas for eight… but I can cancel it if you don't feel well.”

She looked down at our feet, hers neat in their black court shoes, dwarfed by my sprawling socks.

“Look, I'll call them now – we can go another time – it doesn't matter.”

“Robin, I'm sorry – it was a lovely thought too.” When she finally looked up her eyes were red rimmed.

“You do look full of cold.”

She sniffed. “Yes, that must be what it is. Two of my tutor group have a real stinker and I bet I've caught it.”

I moved to hug her but she turned and started up the stairs. “I think I'll have a soak in the bath. I might feel more human after that. Glass of champagne might help too.”

“How about I bring you one then pop down to the village for some fish and chips?”

“Perfect.”

It wasn't until Izzie was half way through the bottle that I discovered what was wrong. As I unwrapped our supper she asked, “What time's Claire coming back?”

I frowned. “I'm not sure, exactly – I can't recall her saying when the film finished. Didn't she tell you when you dropped her at the station this morning?”

Izzie picked up a chip and nibbled at it. I poured myself a glass of champagne.

“We weren't exactly speaking by then. We had a bit of a row, if you must know.”

“Can I ask what about?”

Izzie put her head in her hand. “Newquay – bloody Newquay.”