Chapter Six
After lunch the home team were fielding.
They had run up a good score on their innings — a hundred and sixty-one for seven — so the visitors had a tough target to beat.
Liam and Tom were bowling.
They were a good pair — Tom the fastest, Liam with a mean leg spin.
Together they made it difficult for the batsmen to settle into a regular strike.
Between his turn to bowl Liam was out on the boundary.
It was pleasantly lazy out there in the sunshine.
This was what he had always loved about village cricket — the chance to stand around on a sunny afternoon with not much to do but listen to the birds and the bumblebees and smell the freshly mown grass of the wicket.
Across on the other side of the field he could see his small daughter sitting on the picnic blanket with his mother and his sister-in-law.
And Cassie.
She was wearing a pair of loose navy-blue shorts which showed off her long, elegant legs, and a bright yellow cotton shirt knotted around her waist, flashing brief glimpses of her tanned, toned midriff .
.
.
Tom was getting ready to start his run-up, and Liam snapped his attention back to the game.
Cassie Channing was a distraction he didn’t need.
* * *
“Who wants an ice-cream then?” Julia opened her cool box and with a magician’s flourish produced a pack of choc ices.
“Me!” The children bounced up excitedly, hands out to plead for the treat.
“And what do you say?”
“Please!”
Laughing, she passed them out, offering them to the grown-ups too.
Lisa had finished feeding Kyra and laid her on the blanket.
Noah was waving her yellow plastic rattle for her and she was batting at it with her tiny pink fists.
Robyn was watching, wide-eyed.
“Why don’t I have a baby sister?” she asked Julia.
Ooops!
Awkward .
The adults looked at each other.
How to explain that one?
“Maybe one day,” Julia managed.
“When I’m eighteen?”
“Er . . .”
“Like my tappoo!”
Phew!
“Mummies and daddies can have babies when they get married,” Amy pronounced solemnly.
“My mummy’s going to get married to Uncle Bill, and then they can have a baby.”
Cassie was struggling to keep a straight face.
“Well, maybe not right away,” she cautioned.
“Of course not.” Young Ben was proud of his greater knowledge.
“Babies take nine months to come. So do calves. Horses take a whole year, but pigs take less than four months.”
Lisa was clearly having the same problem as Cassie with suppressing her laughter.
“Very good,” she approved.
“I think I’d rather be a pig.”
“Why?”
A silent plea for help.
“Because . . . pigs can eat lots and lots,” Cassie suggested.
“And they can roll around in the mud and their mummies never tell them off for getting dirty.”
“Oh.”
That seemed to be a sufficient answer, to everyone’s relief.
* * *
Liam took the final wicket of the forty overs, leaving the visitors on one hundred and forty-three for eight.
The win put the Sturcombe team at second in the league.
Luke slapped him on the back as they strolled up to the pavilion.
“Not bad, little brother. You deserve a beer for that.”
The two teams had gathered to toast each other with cool pints and to dissect the game.
“That was a great boundary shot in the tenth over. Poor old Colin didn’t stand a chance.”
“Couldn’t expect him to.” Neville Perkin always had to get a dig in.
“Lumbering around the outfield like an old carthorse.”
Colin took the teasing in good part.
“I’m built for stamina, not speed,” he retorted.
“Anyway, you can talk, after you dropped that absolute sitter!”
“Daddy, Daddy, look!” Robyn had raced over to him and was tugging at his hand, bouncing up and down with excitement.
“Auntie Cassie drawed my tappoo.”
Liam smiled as he picked up his little daughter and settled her on his hip.
“That’s a very fine tattoo,” he approved.
“Is that another one round your mouth?”
The child giggled.
“Don’t be silly, Daddy. It’s chocolate ice-cream.”
“Ah . . .”
“Auntie Cassie drawed tappoos on Noah and Ben and Amy too. And Justin and Paige and Sophie.”
“All those tattoos, eh? It sounds like you kept her busy between you all. Did she have time to watch the cricket?”
“Of course she did. And anyway, she didn’t mind.” Those angelic blue eyes were shining up into his.
“She’s really nice.”
Richard Channing had strolled over to join the teams.
“Hey Richard.” Colin gestured with his beer glass towards the picnic blanket where the Channing and Ellis women were sitting.
“Isn’t that your daughter Cassie over there?”
“That’s right.”
“I thought I recognised her. So is she home for good now?”
Richard smiled wryly.
“Ah, well, we’ll have to wait and see about that.”
Liam felt his shoulders stiffen.
Stupid — of course she would be leaving again.
He’d known that from the start.
Probably sooner rather than later.
She’d made a life for herself on the other side of the world — she’d only come home to see her grandmother.
Not that it mattered to him.
He had a life too, and she hadn’t been a part of it for ten years.
Robyn must have sensed his sudden tension.
“Daddy?” Her eyes were wide.
“Sorry, sweetie. Just a bit of a twinge in my knee.” It didn’t matter — she could go or stay.
It was no concern of his.
“Come on, let’s go and see if Granny and Auntie Julia are ready to go home.”
* * *
Nanna and Arthur had dozed for most of the afternoon, which didn’t stop them commenting loudly and critically on everyone’s play.
“That Neville Perkin — I don’t know what he’s even doing in the team. Couldn’t catch a cold.”
Richard Channing laughed.
“Come on, Mum,” he coaxed.
“Time to go home.”
“Huh! You’re going to put me in that damned wheelchair again, ain’t you?”
“Well, I’d offer to give you a piggyback but I don’t think that would be very dignified for either of us. And I do have a certain position to maintain — quite a few of my pupils are here, with phones that can take photos, which would end up on Instagram.”
“Huh!”
But when Ollie came over, she didn’t argue, allowing him and Richard to ease her from her garden chair into the wheelchair.
She leaned over to pat Arthur on the arm.
“Well, goodbye then, you old duffer.”
He grinned at her.
“Goodbye, my luvver. See you again soon.”
“Maybe, maybe . . .”
Cassie anxiously searched her grandmother’s face as they wheeled her back to the car.
She looked pale and tired, but there was no doubt that she had enjoyed herself, so maybe it had done her good after all.
She seemed to doze as Richard Channing drove at a sedate pace back along the Esplanade and up Cliff Road to the house.
They helped her into her wheelchair, which was then carried up the steps to the front door, and she didn’t grumble at all.
“Would you like a cup of tea, Nanna?” Cassie asked as they wheeled her into her bedroom.
“Not just yet, my little Pickle.” She smiled, an unusually sweet smile.
“I think I’ll just have a bit of a nap for now.”
They settled her into her chair by the window, tucking the cushions comfortably around her and laying a blanket over her knees.
Cassie made sure she had a glass of water and her bell close at hand on the table beside her.
Then they all tiptoed out.
In the kitchen Richard had put the kettle on and had teas brewing by the time the rest of the family had walked back from the cricket ground.
“How is she?” Lisa asked, lifting the baby out of her carrier and settling down to breastfeed her.
Ollie smiled crookedly.
“I didn’t even try to take her pulse. I don’t think it matters anymore.”
All eyes turned to him in concern.
“You think . . . ?”
“A few days at most.” His voice was heavy.
“Possibly less.”
“Oh . . .”
Cassie’s mum wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye.
“Well . . .” She sat down heavily on the wooden chair at the head of the table and picked up her teacup.
“Well . . .”
No one spoke for several moments, then Richard cleared his throat.
“I’d better go and mow that back lawn.” Nobody bothered to mention that he had only mowed it two days ago.
“Shall I do the veg, Mum?” Cassie offered.
“Uh . . . Thank you, yes. Are you staying for dinner, Lisa?”
“Yes, if it’s no trouble.”
“Of course not.” Helen put down her cup, the tea untouched.
“Well . . . I . . . I think I’ll go up and have a doze for a bit.”
“Okay, Mum. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”
Cassie sorted out enough potatoes for all of them and began to peel them at the sink.
They were all being terribly English about it — all stiff upper lip.
But if it helped them cope .
.
.
Noah seemed aware of the atmosphere, although uncertain of its cause, looking from one to the other of the adults for clues.
“Daddy, can we watch Supertato?” he asked quietly.
“Sure.” Ollie ruffled his son’s curly hair.
“Come on.” Father and son disappeared into the sitting room.
“Well, Nanna seemed to enjoy this afternoon, anyway,” Cassie remarked.
“She did.” Lisa stroked baby Kyra’s head with a gentle finger.
“How about you?”
“It was fun.” She managed a smile.
“So many people I haven’t seen for so long. And little Robyn’s just gorgeous — like a little angel.” She finished peeling a potato and dropped it into a pan of water, then picked up another one.
“She doesn’t take much after Liam.”
“No. She’s the image of her mum.”
Cassie carefully dug an eye out of the potato.
Natalie .
.
.
She had kept that photo that Lisa had sent her on her phone for a long time, enlarging that small section of it and gazing at the pair of them — Liam with his arm around Natalie’s waist, glancing down at her, Natalie with her head resting against his shoulder, smiling happily at the camera.
A lovely smile, not at all self-conscious, as if she really wasn’t aware of how pretty she was.
A heart-shaped face, bright eyes, soft blonde curls around her shoulders.
Her sweet nature shone out through the photograph.
Liam must have adored her.
She glanced down as Barney nudged her leg.
In spite of having lost several teeth, he still loved a knob of raw potato to gnaw on.
Silently thanking him for the distraction, she hunkered down and tickled his ear.
“There you are, baby. What a good boy you are.”
He took his trophy, trotted happily back to his basket beside the range cooker, and settled down contentedly.
She paused for a moment to ensure that her voice conveyed no more than casual interest.
“It must have been so sad for her, to have lost her mother at such a young age.”
“Yes. But Liam’s a great dad — you can see how much he adores her.” She shifted Kyra to the other breast.
“How do you feel about him now?”
“Liam? I . . .” She was going to deny everything completely, but she suspected that her sister knew her too well, even after all the years apart.
“Well, he’s still very attractive, of course. But I don’t think it’s likely that anything will happen now. It’s been so long.”
“Ah, well.” Lisa smiled.
“You never know.”
Cassie dropped the potato into the pan and picked up another one.
Did she want anything to happen with Liam?
It was difficult.
She couldn’t deny that those old feelings were still there, but she had no idea if he felt the same.
He’d given no indication that he might.
And if he did .
.
.
That would be even more difficult.
Sooner or later she would face the same dilemma as she had faced ten years ago.
Whether to stay or to leave.
“No, I think I do know.” She ran the peeler down the length of the potato.
“He’s been friendly enough but . . . there’s definitel y a barrier there.”
“Shame.”
Cassie glanced back over her shoulder, arching a quizzical eyebrow at her sister.
“Because if I got together with him it might mean that I’d be staying?”
Lisa’s eyes glinted with enigmatic amusement.
“That too.”
“Well, it’s nice to know that you want me to stay. Even though I did pinch your leather jacket and ruin it by falling into the sea at Kelly-Anne Wallis’s beach party.”
“Ah, yes. I’d forgotten that.” Lisa chuckled.
“You can bugger off back to New Zealand then and never darken our door again.”
They both laughed, and Cassie felt a tug around her heart.
She’d missed her sister while she’d been away.
They’d always been close, though they’d often fought like cat and dog when they were kids.
She’d missed the rest of her family too.
And Barney, with his cute little face and fur like a coir doormat, and a tail that wagged happily all the time, in spite of his arthritis.
And this house overlooking the bay.
She glanced around the cosy kitchen.
So many happy memories .
.
.
The scales which had once tipped one way were now slowly tipping the other.
She’d been afraid that would happen if she came home, which was why she’d put it off for so long.
There was a tear in her eye, even though she wasn’t chopping onions.
Lisa finished feeding the baby.
“Time for a fresh nappy I think.” She dropped a kiss on the infant’s little button nose.
“Come on, Munchkin.”
Cassie chopped the potatoes ready to make chips, then took the chicken portions out of the freezer and defrosted them in the microwave.
She was laying them in a baking tray, slathering them with butter and tarragon, when her brother strolled into the kitchen.
“Mmm, that looks good.”
Cassie smiled.
Though he’d lived up the road in Nanna’s house since the old lady had moved into the family home, he still seemed to spend most of his time here at number nineteen.
“Make yourself useful then — lay the table.”
He grinned as he opened the cutlery drawer.
“When did you learn to cook?”
She flicked a tea towel at his shoulder.
“Cheek! You used to gobble down my prawn curry like you hadn’t eaten for a week!”
Lisa and Ollie came in from the sitting room with Noah.
“The baby’s asleep, so I’ve left her in there. I can hear her from here if she stirs.”
“Dad’s just putting the lawn mower away. Noah, could you run up and tell your gran that dinner’s ready. I’m just going to take a little bit in to Nanna.”
She had cut up a portion of chicken into small pieces, and put a few chips on the plate with a spoonful of garden peas.
She picked up the plate and a knife and fork, and carried them through to the dining room.
She tapped lightly on the door.
There was no reply, so she pushed it open.
“Nanna? I’ve brought you some—” Something wasn’t right.
The old lady seemed to be asleep but .
.
.
“Nanna?”
Cautiously she approached Nanna’s chair and reached out to touch her thin, veined hand.
The old lady didn’t stir.
Her eyes were closed and there was a smile curving her pale lips.
But she had gone.
Very slowly Cassie put the dinner plate down on the side table and stood for a moment, feeling her heart beating against her throat.
Afraid that her legs wouldn’t hold her, she knelt down at her grandmother’s side, holding both her hands and gazing up into that much-loved face, the mesh of fine wrinkles a map of a life well-lived.
“Thank you for waiting until I got home,” she whispered.
“I wish we’d had longer.”
She wasn’t crying — somehow she wasn’t sad.
That smile told her that Nanna had been happy.
She would miss her.
Even when she had been on the other side of the world she had felt the warmth in her heart that Nanna was here at home.
But that warmth would always be there .
.
.
The door behind her opened quietly and she turned her head as her mother came in.
“Cassie, your dinner’s getting . . . Oh . . .”
Cassie rose to her feet.
“Ollie was right, though it was sooner than he thought.”
Her mother smiled and shook her head.
“No, I think he knew. He was just trying to soften it a bit.” She came across the room and put her arm around Cassie’s shoulders, gazing down at her mother-in-law.
“She looks happy.”
“She does.”
“She enjoyed the cricket.”
“She did.”
“I was worried that . . . But I don’t suppose it would have made any difference. Better she went a little sooner after having a lovely day than lingering here bored and miserable.”
Cassie nodded.
“You’re right.”
“I suppose we’d better tell the others.”
“Yes.”
But neither of them moved.
They stood there for a long time, mother and daughter, side by side, gazing down at the old lady who had filled such a giant space in their lives.