Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
The next few days were simpler and more to my innate strengths: less nurturing of baby bunnies, more consulting spreadsheets and chasing orders. Only having one project on the go suited me and I was stimulated by the work rather than exhausted. It also didn’t hurt that the time I spent working each day was severely limited by other people. Douglas and often Mum as well, to my surprise, or Constance, sometimes even Coco, were taking Theo to the sanctuary every day, which left Alexander and I a good block of time to get work done. But when Theo was home, Alexander downed tools and spent time with his son. At first, I had found this frustrating.
‘What’s up with you?’ asked Constance one day, finding me slamming my phone down on the kitchen table with what was no doubt a very sour look on my face.
‘I just want to get these labels done ,’ I said. ‘We could have got the order in today, but Theo’s home early because Sadie and Jacob had to take Linnet somewhere, and Alexander’s gone off with him. I can’t make the decision unilaterally, he knows that. Now it will have to wait until the morning.’
‘How annoying,’ said Constance calmly, switching on the kettle. ‘Cup of tea? You might as well.’
‘Yes, all right then,’ I answered ungraciously. ‘I suppose I’d better have one of those herbal things Mum’s been making me drink.’
‘Is this the one – linden and camomile? Sounds very soothing, I might join you in one. I’ve hit a rocky patch in my book.’
‘Sorry to hear that.’
‘Thanks. I’ll get past it. I’m going to take a break and go for a walk when I’ve drunk this, I find the cold December air works wonders for “unsticking” me when work isn’t going well.’
‘My problem is that work is going well – I’m only stuck because Alexander isn’t here.’
Constance placed a mug of tea in front of me.
‘Do you think he should be working instead of spending time with Theo?’ she asked in her direct way.
I flushed.
‘I guess not, but time is very limited, and this is important.’
‘Will anything suffer if it is done tomorrow morning rather than today?’
‘No. I just wanted to get it done.’
I sighed and took a sip of tea, not looking at Constance, who I could feel staring at me intently.
‘It seems that you are very driven and hard-working, just like your mother.’ Now I looked up. I opened my mouth to say I’m nothing like her , then snapped it shut again and glared at Constance. She continued, unperturbed. ‘Did she work a lot when you were a child?’
‘Yes. She was always at work?—’
‘And not with you.’ She finished my sentence for me. ‘So that is why you think you, too, would be a terrible mother, as you told me on our walk not long ago.’
‘That’s right. Look at me, desperate to work and annoyed that Alexander is prioritising his son. I’m just like her, you’re right.’
Constance didn’t reply, but stood and picked up her cup, placing a hand briefly on my shoulder as she left the room. I was alone with my thoughts, a place I don’t find myself often, as the space is always filled with work. Turmoil raged inside me. Was I like her? I had spent so much of my life resenting her for her perceived abandonment of me in favour of her ambition, yet here I was, annoyed at Alexander because he was doing exactly the opposite. A picture of Theo with Runcible on his lap floated unbidden into my mind. Was what I had experienced as a child what I wanted for that sweet little boy, with all the anxiety and grief he was already coping with? All for a sign off on some labels that could easily be done in the morning? I was suddenly ashamed of myself. Is this what everyone did? Beat our fists against the unjustness of our childhoods, then replicate it? Then, for the first time since I could remember, I reached out to my phone and, rather than checking my emails, I leant on the side button and switched it off. Stress began to ebb away from me, and I gazed out of the window at the weak sunlight washing the garden. Maybe a wintery walk would be good for me too. I woke Runcible, who was unimpressed to be uprooted from her cosy spot by the stove, wrapped us both up warm, and headed out into the freezing Yorkshire afternoon.
The next day, when Alexander and I sat down in his study to start work, I was going to broach the subject of the labels, but he got there before me.
‘Fallon, I realised late in the day yesterday that I never signed off on those labels. I’m sorry, I know you wanted to get it done. Anyway, I sent the email today before breakfast, so hopefully I won’t have held things up too much.’
The walk yesterday had cleared my head and helped me get a few things in perspective.
‘Thank you. I was worried about it then, but it actually wasn’t so urgent, and I know you and Theo want to spend time together. It’s important.’
‘I’m so glad you understand. But I wouldn’t want you to think that I’m sitting back and leaving all the work to you. I’m focused on doing well at the Christmas Fayre, but I think I can manage both.’
‘Of course you can. Everything’s going very smoothly, which is why I think we can look again this morning at something that isn’t imperative, but I still believe would be a good idea. Do you remember I mentioned offering a special cocktail?’
‘Yes! You said we should do something with cranberries.’
‘That’s right. Well, I’ve been thinking about it, and I think that something with strong local links would be a big draw. I was wondering if we might be able to forage or buy within a mile or two and use that as a selling point.’
‘What did you have in mind? Surely there can’t be much to forage in December?’
‘Not berries and things, no, although we can buy small amounts of locally grown cranberries. But I was thinking of something different. We can forage sweet chestnuts and pine needles and quite easily make them into syrups. I bet we could do it; I’ve looked up a few recipes, or I’m sure Coco would help. There’s that Yorkshire brand of tonic water who have already agreed to work with us?—’
‘Thanks to you,’ interrupted Alexander. ‘I would never have thought to approach them.’
‘Well, it makes good sense to use local providers. I think we could make some great Christmas drinks with those ingredients. We could sugar the edges of the glasses and add a few crystallised cranberries – I bet you’d sell out.’
Alexander looked excited now.
‘Fallon, that sounds amazing. I love it.’
I beamed.
‘Oh, and I thought that you could also offer non-alcoholic drinks made with the same syrups. We just have to think up some fun names.’
‘I like this more than ordering coasters, I must say. Well, look, seeing as we’re up to speed on everything else for now, why don’t we give it a trial run?’
‘Today?’
‘Why not? Theo and Dad won’t be back for a few hours, so we could go and pick the things you mentioned and have a go. How long does it take to make the syrups?’
I laughed.
‘The chestnut one is quite quick, about half an hour, and most of that is roasting time. The pine one takes longer, because you have to steep it for three hours or so.’
‘So we could be drinking them tonight?’
‘We could!’
‘I think we should do it. Runcible, are you up for a walk?’ My little dog ran over to him as he patted his knees, and he scooped her up. Seeing him be so sweet with her made it very hard for me to pretend to myself I didn’t fancy him. ‘There you go, you see? She’s enthusiastic.’
‘All right, then, let’s go!’
We put on our warm clothes and Runcible’s thick jumper and stepped outside, the cold momentarily taking my breath away.
‘They take some getting used to, these temperatures,’ said Alexander, zipping up his coat a little further. ‘I like it, I’ve lived with it for such a long time, but some people who move here never get used to it.’
I stamped my feet and shivered dramatically.
‘I’m reserving judgement for now, but I prefer it to boiling hot summers.’
‘We don’t get many of them up here.’
‘So, where can we find the things we need? Will we have to go far?’
‘There are some pine trees growing at the back – Christmas trees that Dad and I started planting a few years ago so eventually we’ll have big ones for the house every year. They’re Douglas firs – any good?’
I consulted the information I had saved on my phone.
‘Yes, they’re fine. Let’s start there then.’
We walked across the frosty lawn, our feet leaving marks behind us, although Runcible’s little paws barely did. The pathway through the hedges that led to Heathcliff’s field veered away to the right, but we turned left and crossed a pretty stone bridge over a stream. I paused and looked down at the water.
‘It hasn’t frozen yet. I’m surprised, it’s so cold.’
Alexander laughed.
‘This isn’t cold, not yet. Give it time, although the stream still may not freeze. You should see it later in the year – this is just a trickle compared to spring, then the becks all around here gush along.’
‘Beck?’
‘It’s what we call these streams – ones with stony bottoms.’
I nodded, wishing I could see it at full flow later in the year, and we continued walking, the ground now tufty with heather, although there was also a lot of stone and brick lying around. Alexander must have noticed me looking and said:
‘There was once some sort of religious building on this site, destroyed in the English Reformation, but you can see what’s left. There was probably some sort of kitchen garden – that would have been perfect in the warmer weather for finding locally grown herbs.’
‘What a great idea. You should work out where it was, bring it back to life and use the botanicals in your gin. It’s impossibly romantic. People would love knowing their drinks were flavoured with herbs from a monastic medicine garden.’
Alexander grinned at me.
‘I like the way your romanticism is tempered with good commercial sense,’ he said teasingly. ‘For instance, would you sell your wedding pictures to a magazine?’
‘Ha. I doubt there will ever be a wedding to sell pictures of,’ I said shortly.
‘Marriage not for you?’ he asked, and when I just shrugged, unwilling to get into the conversation, he continued, ‘I agree. I went there once before and look how that ended. You do know about that, I suppose?’
I nodded.
‘Yes, Mum mentioned it. I’m sorry, what an awful train of events for you and Theo to go through.’
We had stopped walking now, and he kicked at some of the old bricks.
‘Yes, it was a lot to go through in a short time – my accident…’ He flexed his hand, and my eyes were drawn once again to the livid scars across the palm. ‘Holly leaving and then the car crash…I doubt Theo will ever get over it.’ He lifted his head and looked at me. ‘You can understand why I’m so protective of him. He’s already suffered so many terrible experiences in his short life, I can’t bear risking him being exposed to any more.’
So, no school, no playdates and now no second wife, I thought, although I didn’t say anything out loud. Instead, I asked:
‘And what about you?’
‘What about me?’ His voice had taken on an edge, warning me to tread carefully.
‘Don’t you want to return to practicing medicine, or to have some time for yourself?’
‘My work as a surgeon took me away from home too much, and often at odd times. I’d get a call at two in the morning and have to rush to the hospital. I can’t bring that kind of uncertainty back into Theo’s life. And before you come up with a million solutions, I don’t want to hire someone to live in or, God forbid, get married again, just so I can be a surgeon and palm my son off on someone else when he’s inconvenient. I don’t need or want the money or the status and by teaching students I’m still useful.’
I didn’t say anything, but bent and scooped up Runcible, who was shivering by my feet. I cuddled her close to me, burying my face in her neck. Alexander spoke again, his voice more gentle this time.
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you . I’m just so used to people trying to fix me, I try to pre-empt it now.’
‘It’s okay. And for what it’s worth, I don’t think you need fixing at all.’
He looked into my eyes and for a moment I was transfixed, my stomach leaping around all over the place, defying my head which was screaming at me to remember the conversation we had been having thirty seconds ago, Fallon! I was first to look away.
‘So, which way are these pine trees? I think Runcible is going to go on strike if we don’t get moving again.’
We walked a little further until a scene from a picture book met my eyes: a little copse of Christmas trees, about twenty of them, all different sizes and sparkling from the chilly touch of winter.
‘You planted all these?’
‘Me and Dad and Theo together, yes. We still don’t have one big enough for the hallway – we buy that in – but we’ve dug one up for the Hall now for three years. And after Christmas we put them back out here to continue growing.’
‘Oh, I love that. It does seem sad that so many trees are thrown away.’
‘It does. Our problem in a few years is going to be too many trees, and trees that are too big for us to handle, but we’ll worry about that when it happens.’
‘So you don’t want me to offer any solutions now?’ I asked, grinning. ‘I’m sure I could come up with some ideas.’
He laughed.
‘No, you’re all right. If I’m stuck in ten years’ time, I’ll ask you then.’
‘Do you think our parents will get married?’ I asked him suddenly.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I think it’s looking likely, don’t you?’
I nodded. ‘Funny how differently people’s lives work out, isn’t it? It will be Mum’s first wedding, but Douglas’s third.’
He visibly stiffened.
‘She can trust him, you know. Remember that he was widowed once, and he still gets on well with Coco’s mother.’
‘I didn’t mean it like that at all. Douglas is wonderful and I’d be delighted if they got married. I’d be more concerned that you wouldn’t want him to marry her.’
‘Why?’
‘Nothing sinister. I mean, she’s refused hundreds of proposals over the years – according to her, that is – and I can see that she feels completely differently about your dad. It’s just, well, I know how she can be with her soap career and her Instagram page and now all this wellness stuff.’
‘Honestly, Fallon, I don’t know much about that. I just see someone who clearly loves my father. Okay, so she has her own agenda sometimes, but from what I understand, she’s a self-made woman, and obviously an extremely successful one. She’s never going to be some sort of surrendered wife, but that’s a good thing.’
‘You won’t mind that she will almost definitely want a magazine taking photos of the wedding?’
He shrugged.
‘I may not know much about celebrity or soap operas, but I know how the world works.’ He paused. ‘Fallon, I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what’s it like for you having Jacqueline Honeywood as your mother? I must say, when Dad said you were coming with her, I expected somebody very different.’
‘Somebody more like her?’
‘More like somebody who had been so steeped in celebrity their whole life that they had been washed along by that. But you’re not at all that way, and still like your mother – self-made and determined.’
I tucked Runcible inside my coat – all this standing around talking in the cold wasn’t her thing – and thought for a moment.
‘My relationship with Mum hasn’t been the easiest. When I was little, she was working on building up her career and she prioritised that over everything else, including me. I get it, I do, I’m not a brat, but it was very clear to me that I was a nuisance, a hindrance, and very low down on her list. When she became successful, I was packed off to boarding school. I loved it and it was by far the best thing for both of us, but of course I still felt abandoned. So I did what she had done all those years before – focused on building up my career so that I could be independent and in charge of all my own decisions. Only I didn’t have a child to factor in.’
‘Would you have done things differently if you had?’
‘Probably not. My motivation not to be dependent on Mum was too strong. She wasn’t cut out for motherhood, and neither am I. Can you imagine some poor little mite being stuck with me for a mum?’
I gave a strangulated laugh at this not very funny comment, and an image of Theo cuddling Runcible flipped across my mind. Would it be so terrible, in reality?
Alexander looked at me for a moment, opened his mouth to say something and then clearly changed his mind. He cleared his throat and instead asked me:
‘What about your father? What was he like?’
‘I have no idea, never met the guy. Come on, let’s get this pine picked or we won’t be drinking cocktails this evening.’
I was grateful that he accepted my abrupt change of direction and immediately turned his attentions to the trees, chatting about which ones looked juiciest. As we worked, I pondered what it was about Alexander that had prompted me to have a conversation I never, ever get into with anyone. He was so kind and easy to talk to, listening without judgement and allowing me to stop when I wanted to. I sighed inwardly. If only I wasn’t so worried about what damage I could do to his lovely child, he could just be perfect.