Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
REBECCA
In the nine days that have passed since we visited the Southalls, Tobias has been to see his therapist three times. In the end, he decided on Lilian who, he explained, has been Alexander’s therapist for years.
That came as quite the shock, I can tell you. Alexander always seems so contained, so in control, but after what happened to him and his sister, then his mother, it’s probably not all that surprising he sought professional help.
I’ve made a bit of headway on my new career path, too, drafting out a loose story for my first children’s book, and I’ve drawn a few accompanying sketches.
I’m in my element. I’d forgotten how much I love to draw, but it’s safe to say the bug has come back with a vengeance.
If it weren’t for Isla needing my attention, my regular visits to Jane, and Tobias insisting I take breaks to eat and get some fresh air, I’d spend all day and half the night writing and drawing.
I still haven’t made a decision whether to grant Felicity and Preston’s request to see Isla, and yes, I admit it’s giving me an odd thrill to be the one holding the cards for once.
I probably will allow it, for Isla’s sake, but I’ll watch both of them, especially Felicity, like a hawk.
One wrong move and she’ll lose access to Isla for good.
Tobias hasn’t mentioned whether the investigator has found any other survivors of the Southalls yet, and I’m hesitant to bring up the subject.
If he wants to tell me, he will. There’s been a subtle shift in our relationship, though.
Between twelve and one each day, he messages me to see if I’m free for lunch.
It’s both sweet and hilarious. It’s not as if I have a strict schedule that means I can’t make the time for thirty minutes with my husband.
Right on cue, my phone dings with a message.
Tobias
Free for lunch?
I chuckle as I type out a reply.
On our way.
Isla and I head to Tobias’s office. After giving Isla a red lollipop, Bea waves us inside. It’s gift that’s become something of a routine between the two of them.
“Say thank you.”
“Cue,” Isla says, shorthand for thank you.
Every day, a new word pops from her mouth, and each one makes my heart sing with joy. There were many times I despaired that I’d ever hear her voice again.
Isla bursts into his office, arms already outstretched. “Tobias.”
His eyes light up, and he swoops her into the air, swinging her around. Her giggles fill his office as he throws her upward before catching her easily.
“Down.”
He puts her on the floor. “You want some juice?”
“No.”
He laughs. “Another new word.”
“Yeah.” I grimace. “One she’s becoming proficient in, and I could have done without.”
He laughs. “Like all kids.”
His throwaway comment hits me in the gut.
He’s right. She’s growing into a regular child.
Once, I feared she’d live with challenges.
Not insurmountable ones by any means, but challenges all the same.
Now, well, she’ll still have challenges, that’s life, but she won’t have the added struggle being non-verbal would bring in a world not set up for little girls like her.
The thirty minutes Tobias carves out for lunch goes by too quickly.
When we leave him to get back to work, instead of returning to our rooms, I decide to visit Alice.
It’s been ages since we saw her, and I can’t help feeling sorry for the woman.
She seems so isolated. A member of the family, but not really.
Even when she comes to the regular Friday dinners, she’s quiet, as though she’s too afraid of saying something that will cast her further out of the family dynamic.
She’s paying for George’s sins, and that is not right.
Spring has properly arrived, the meadows covered in wildflowers.
We pick some on the way to Alice’s farmhouse, and I thread a few daisies through Isla’s hair.
She insists on putting some in the little backpack she’s suddenly decided she can’t live without.
It’s a Paw Patrol one Tobias bought her recently, and she’s fallen in love with it, even insisting on sleeping with it—her once trusty teddy bear cast aside for a shiny new thing.
Alice is at the kitchen window as we approach. She sees us and waves, then comes to the door. “What a lovely surprise.”
“We’re not intruding, are we?”
“Absolutely not.” She sweeps Isla into her arms and kisses her cheek. “You’re always welcome, especially this little bug.”
“Sorry we haven’t called in for a while.”
“No apologies. I know you’re busy. Tea?”
“I’d love some.”
She sets Isla on the floor. “Go on into the living room. I won’t be long.”
I take Isla’s hand, and we settle onto Alice’s couch.
Bright sunshine pours through the windows, giving the farmhouse a completely different look, almost cottage-like.
Cozier. After a few seconds, Isla jumps off the couch to inspect a small wicker basket filled with odds and ends.
She dips inside and plucks out a wooden toy animal, studying it, nose screwed up.
“Isla, careful. You shouldn’t touch things that don’t belong to you.”
“She’s fine.” Alice sets down a tray of tea and biscuits on the low coffee table. “Let the child breathe, Rebecca.”
“I don’t want her breaking your things.”
“It’s just stuff. Nothing is irreplaceable. It’s all part of her growing up, spreading her wings, finding out how the world works. Let her explore. If she breaks something, she’ll learn something.”
Alice pours the tea and passes me a mug. Isla reaches for her juice box and a biscuit, then goes back to exploring the contents of the wicker basket.
“So, how are things?”
A genuine smile inches across my face. “They’re good. I finally figured out what I want to do with my life. At least for now.”
“Ooh, do tell.”
“I’m going to write and illustrate children’s books. I used to be pretty good at drawing when I was a kid, and I’ve read hundreds of books to Isla to know which kinds of stories land and those where the child gets bored.”
“That’s so exciting. I’m thrilled for you.” She angles her head to one side. “And Tobias? How are things going with him?”
A faint blush heats my cheeks. “We’re moving forward.
We’ve kind of… well, we’ve kissed a couple of times.
” For some odd reason it doesn’t feel strange telling Alice that.
There’s something about her that’s warm and motherly.
Having missed out on a mother figure, perhaps the child inside me still seeks a replacement.
Whatever the reason, she’s so easy to talk to.
Alice leans forward and pats my knee. “That’s wonderful, Rebecca. Especially after what you’ve been through.”
I sigh. “If you’d asked me a few weeks ago whether I could see this happening, I’d have laughed and told you I’m sworn off men for life, but Tobias is…” I throw my hands out to the side. “Different.”
“He always has been. Out of all of Charles’s kids, I’ve felt closest to Tobias and Saskia. Maybe because they were so young when George and I returned from Japan, whereas the other three were older and more independent. He’s a good man.”
“Isla adores him. He can do no wrong in her eyes.”
A thud sounds upstairs. It’s only then I realize Isla isn’t in the living room.
I get to my feet. “I’m so sorry, Alice. I didn’t even see her leave. I’ll go get her.”
“Rebecca, she’s fine. Now, finish your tea. She’s spreading her wings. It’s a good sign. I’m glad she feels at home here.”
I sit back down. “Sorry. Marcus’s legacy is hard to shake. I spent so long trying to keep her quiet and us as small as possible so as not to anger him.”
“You’ll get there.”
“I’m glad he’s dead,” I whisper. “Does that make me a bad person?”
“Absolutely not. It makes you human. Besides, Tobias is the kind of father Isla deserves, don’t you agree?”
“Oh, yes, a hundred percent.”
“The husband you deserve, too.”
I glance up at her, but she’s not looking at me. She’s gazing at a photograph on the mantlepiece of her and George.
“Have you seen him?”
She returns her attention to me. “No. Every time I ask, Charles refuses. Guess I should be grateful they haven’t killed him yet. Where there’s life, there’s hope.” She laughs bitterly, her response matter of fact.
If I had to guess, I’d say that’s her coping mechanism.
From my perspective, George is just as bad as Marcus, but Alice clearly doesn’t see it that way, and I don’t want to upset her.
It must be awful to love someone as much as she loves George only to find out he’s a monster.
Turning off that love would not be easy.
She’s not there yet. Maybe she never will be.
Another thud comes from overhead, louder this time. I sigh and put my half-finished mug of tea on the table. “Okay, now I’m going to see what’s going on.”
This time, Alice doesn’t stop me, just nods, her gaze returning to the photograph. I jog up the stairs, poking my head into a couple of open doorways until I find Isla in what I presume is Alice’s bedroom, considering there’s several photos of her and George lining the walls.
Isla’s sitting on the floor, cross-legged, an open book in her lap. I can’t see any damage, which is something.
“What are you doing, you little imp?” I take the book from her—a thriller by a well-known author—and put it on the bedside table. Luckily, she’s unable to read it, thank goodness. “Come on. It’s time to go.”
We head back downstairs, and I peer into the living room. Alice is standing now, holding the photograph in her hand, crying. My heart breaks for her.
“Hey,” I say gently. “I was going to take Isla home for her nap, but if you need me to stay, I can.”
She shakes her head, brushing absently at her wet cheeks. “It’s fine, sweetheart. You go. I have plenty to keep me occupied.”
“I’m just a phone call away. If you ever want some company, just call.”
“You’re a good person, Rebecca. Tobias is lucky to have you.” She turns back to the picture, and her eyes soften. Lost in her memories, maybe. I take Isla’s hand, and we slip out of the door, closing it quietly behind us and leaving Alice with the remnants of the life she once had.
When we return to Oakleigh, I put Isla down for a nap and curl up by the window with my notebook, but I can’t shake the melancholy of Alice’s sadness.
Alice lost her future with the man she loved.
But somehow, impossibly, I’ve been given one, and I will never, ever take that for granted.