Chapter 11
11
As soon as he’d got the kids dropped off with Rowena ready to start the morning craft session, Dylan headed out. The early mist was beginning to lift, leaving a blanket of watery diamonds laid over the grass. It was fresh rather than chilly, so Dylan decided to walk across to the distillery where Rowena had said he would find Zap. Though there were signs of improvement and development everywhere, the layout of the estate was as he remembered it. As he followed the main road away from the hall, he found himself intrigued by odd structures scattered seemingly at random across the open land. Some kind of temporary trackway had been laid down and he realised he must be seeing part of the layout of the Christmas light trail. Several of the larger trees he passed had spotlights positioned at the base of their trunks, confirming his suspicions.
He wondered if the kids could be persuaded to check it out later. They were growing up so fast, and he wondered if they were already too old to embrace the magic of it. He wasn’t too proud to beg, he found himself realising with a grin, because he would need the memories they made over the next couple of weeks to sustain him once they flew the nest. They were already starting to slip away from him, his allocated time with them spent either chauffeuring them from place to place, or in the kitchen preparing endless snacks and meals for the friends who descended like hungry locusts to take over the lounge with their gaming or movie marathons. Not that he minded, but this precious time where it was just the three of them wouldn’t come around again. Which made it even more important that he put the past to rights so he could focus on what was most important, making sure Avery and Theo had the best holiday he could possibly give them.
When he reached The Old Stable Yard it was almost beyond recognition. The transformation was truly remarkable. The slightly tumbledown collection of buildings he remembered was now a vibrant collection of welcoming spaces. The stables themselves had been converted into a row of workshops. A newer building, constructed to blend sympathetically with the rest, housed a large café with bright welcoming windows full of sparkling lights. To the right stood the old carriage house, which according to the signage over the double-height wooden doors was the home of the Juniper Meadows distillery, and his destination.
The door to the distillery stood half open and Dylan took that as an invitation to poke his head around the edge and look in. The open-plan space was dominated by a pair of shiny stills with complicated pipework leading to and from each one. Brass plaques declared their names as William and Mary. Dylan couldn’t help but smile, wondering if it was a brewing tradition or simply a quirk of his brother’s. Gentle music filled the air, some sort of instrumental piece that reminded him of one of the soothing tracks he listened to when sleep eluded him. To the right of the room sat an array of workbenches covered in bottles and boxes and machines he had no idea the purpose of. On the left stood an impressive display filled with bottles. Dylan wandered closer and soon found himself lost in admiration of Zap’s imagination because at least half of the flavour combinations the labels boasted of were things he would never have put together.
The sound of claws pit-patting across the tiled floor made Dylan turn and he bent to greet a scruffy little dog with hair around his jaw and chin that looked like an old man’s unkempt beard, and bright, black button eyes. ‘Hello, who are you, then?’ Dylan asked, keeping his voice soft as he extended a hand for the dog to sniff.
‘His name’s Hercule. Hello, Dyl.’
A lump came to his throat at the sound of that old nickname and he wasn’t sure if it was his age or the wellspring of emotion that caused his knees to wobble as he straightened up. ‘Hello, Zap. You look good.’
‘I look old,’ his brother said with a laugh as he scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his cheeks. ‘And I’ve got nearly as much grey in my beard as Hercule there.’
‘You still look good,’ Dylan insisted. Sure, there was lots of grey speckled through his brother’s dark hair, but he was as broad and rangy as the fit young man he remembered from their youth.
Zap grinned. ‘Nice twang you’ve developed there.’
It was Dylan’s turn to laugh. Most of the people he met back home never mistook him for anything other than an Englishman, but being here had made it more obvious to his own ear that he’d picked up more than a touch of a Floridian drawl. ‘You should hear the kids.’
‘Ro’ said they’re a couple of smashers. I’d love to meet them.’
Dylan took a couple of steps closer. ‘And you will, I promise. I needed it to be just you and me first.’
Zap nodded, his face creasing in pain. ‘Dyl?—’
‘No.’ Dylan held up a hand to stop the man who had always meant more to him than anyone else, well, until his children had come along, but there was no love in the world to match that. He closed the gap between them until they were less than a couple of feet apart. ‘It’s not on you to make this right, Zap, it’s on me.’
Zap’s head jerked up, his blue eyes flashing wide in surprise. ‘What are you talking about? If I hadn’t been so selfish, you never would’ve left.’
Dylan shook his head. ‘That’s not true. You kissing Ro’ might have been the catalyst, but I was already desperately looking for a way out.’
‘I don’t believe that. For whatever reason, you’re just trying to spare my feelings.’
Reaching out, Dylan gripped Zap’s shoulder. ‘There’s a lot of stuff you don’t know. Things were going badly for me at university and I was basically failing my course.’ Dylan closed his eyes briefly as the ghosts of old shame tugged at him. ‘I knew how much you guys needed me to step up and I knew I’d never be able to do it, so I took the easy way out.’ Just as their father had always done.
Zap broke his hold but only so he could step in and put his arms around Dylan. ‘You’re my baby brother and you should’ve been able to talk to me about anything. The fact that you couldn’t then, the fact it’s so hard for you even now, means I failed you, Dyl, and for that I am eternally sorry.’ Dylan couldn’t speak, he just clung to the at once strange and yet achingly familiar strength of this man he had missed so much. Zap turned his head to kiss Dylan’s cheek, his voice choked with tears as he spoke again. ‘We never needed you to be anything other than happy. If we pressured you into trying to be something you’re not, then that’s on us, not you. We should’ve seen you were unhappy. I should’ve seen.’
Dylan loosened one hand only to wipe the tears from his eyes. ‘I should’ve told you.’ So many regrets. So many years convincing himself they were all better off without him. As he let the warmth and love seep into his bones, Dylan swore to himself he wouldn’t waste one more minute of his life on being afraid of rejection.
If he’d thought his reunion with Ziggy might be easier, Dylan had a nasty shock when he knocked on the back door of the farmhouse and opened it as Zap had instructed him to after dropping him off on the way to run an errand in the village. The laughter that had filled the room fell silent as three sets of eyes turned to look at him. At the head of the long, sturdy kitchen table sat the mirror image of the man who had just driven off, though this incarnation had shorter hair, and a smart shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows instead of an old sweatshirt and jeans more hole than denim. To his right sat a woman Dylan found vaguely familiar and from the way the pair were holding hands he assumed this to be Daisy, an old girlfriend with whom Ziggy had recently reunited.
It was the woman at the other end of the table who commanded most of his attention, though. Smaller than he remembered, her crease-lined face was tanned to a shade that wouldn’t look out of place on one of the Floridian matrons who lived in the apartment complexes a stone’s throw from the port, packed suitcase always by the door ready to jump on one of the multitude of cruise ships that circulated in and out of Fort Lauderdale every day. ‘Hello, Mother, I heard you were back.’ He tried and failed to keep the stiffness out of his voice. He’d known he would have to see her at some point, Monty too, but he’d wanted to do it on his own terms.
Alice Travers gave him a sad smile. ‘I thought it was past time I reconnected with the family. Ziggy and the others have been gracious enough to let me stay for a few months.’
Dylan nodded, acutely conscious of Daisy trying to slip quietly from the room. He knew they were making the most awkward tableau, but things between him and his mother had always been strained. When he was little, he’d relied on his brothers and sister for affection, and not just because their parents had kept too unpredictable a timetable to be relied upon. Dylan had been a mistake, an unplanned surprise and not a pleasant one because Alice had almost died giving birth to him.
‘How’s Monty?’
‘His usual bloody-minded self,’ Ziggy said, rising from his chair and coming around the table to greet him. ‘Come here, you.’
Once again, Dylan found himself engulfed in that strange-familiar warmth of an embrace long missed. Ziggy’s hands moved over his back, an unconscious soothing gesture that was second nature to the family peacemaker. ‘It’s good to see you,’ Dylan murmured.
‘It’s good to have you home.’ Ziggy released him and stepped back. ‘How are the kids enjoying things?’
Dylan smiled. ‘They’re having fun. Ro’ and Stevie are taking good care of them. They’re at the decorating thing up at the hall.’ He pulled his phone out and opened his photo app, scrolling through until he found the picture he’d taken of the pair of them at Jen’s wedding. ‘You can tell they’re part of the family.’
Ziggy took the phone and laughed as he studied the image. ‘I see what you mean. Avery is the spitting image of Hope at that age.’ Ziggy spoke Avery’s name as though speaking of someone well known and well loved, and not a stranger at all. ‘Your Theo’s a fine-looking lad, too,’ he added as he handed back the phone.
‘If he keeps growing, I think he’ll be taller than all of us. They’re looking forward to meeting everyone.’
‘May I see?’ Their mother’s voice was tentative, a hint of something pleading in the question.
‘Of course.’ Sliding into the seat nearest her, Dylan handed her his phone.
Ziggy placed a hand on his shoulder, causing Dylan to look up at him. ‘Cup of tea?’
‘Yeah, that’d be good, thanks.’
As Ziggy crossed the kitchen to the kettle, Dylan once again appreciated the easy way his eldest brother took control of the situation. He, more than anyone, knew why things were difficult – after all he’d been the one to sit Dylan down when he was barely old enough to understand and tried to explain in as a kind a way as possible why their mother never hugged him and why their father could barely look at him. ‘Mummy was very poorly when she had you and it made her very, very sad for a long time afterwards. Daddy took her away to help her get better. He was scared when she was so ill and seeing you reminds him of that, which upsets him all over again.’
Dylan looked at his mother as she zoomed in on the children’s faces. Her expression was hard to read, but there was no mistaking that smile. ‘There’s loads of them on there. Feel free to look through,’ he found himself offering.
She glanced up at him, a hunger so bright in her eyes it was almost painful. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’
Dylan shook his head. ‘Not at all.’
They spent the next few minutes going through the ridiculous amount of photos he had on his phone of Theo at various sporting events, with his nose stuck in a book, shouting with glee as he punched the air after absolutely demolishing Dylan on one of his computer games. The next picture was one of Avery, delicate and graceful on the balance beam in gymnastics, the one after of her looking far too grown up for his liking in a pretty peach organza dress with a matching corsage on her wrist for her first school formal dance. The third was one of his personal favourites, Avery grinning around a mouthful of hotdog as she sat between her mother and Eric at a baseball game the five of them had gone to the previous summer.
‘You have a beautiful family,’ Alice said, when she finally dragged her eyes from the screen and up to his face. ‘I’d love to meet them.’ He could tell she was being completely sincere and he wondered again at her comment from earlier about trying to reconnect with the family.
‘You’ll be here for dinner on Sunday?’
Alice didn’t answer immediately, glancing over at Ziggy instead. ‘Of course she will,’ Ziggy said, giving their mother a warm smile that said whatever issues his eldest brother might have had about being lumped with the responsibility of not just the estate but his siblings’ welfare had been forgiven. ‘Daisy and I are in charge of the cooking. We’re going to make a couple of big pots of curry and loads of sides.’
‘Sounds great. I’ll pop into the village tomorrow and get some wine.’ It felt like the least he could do.
Ziggy shook his head. ‘Zap’s in charge of the drinks and Ben and Amelia have said they’re sorting out dessert so you don’t need to bring anything other than yourself and the kids.’
Their mother rose from the table with a smile. ‘I shall look forward to it, but in the meantime I’ll leave the two of you to catch up.’ She seemed to hesitate before reaching out a tentative hand to touch a finger to Dylan’s cheek. He felt his breath catch because he could almost count the number of times she’d volunteered first contact between them. ‘I’m glad you’re back, Dylan, even if it’s only for a little while, and thank you for sharing your photos of the children with me. I can’t wait to meet them.’
‘It was good to see you again, Mum.’ Dylan was surprised to find the words were true and not just a polite effort on his part. ‘Maybe we can do something, just you, me and the kids? The café over at The Old Stable Yard looks nice – perhaps we can have afternoon tea there one day?’ He couldn’t bring himself to include his father in the invitation, and it hadn’t slipped his attention that his mother had made no mention of him either.
Her entire face lit up, as though he’d offered her something infinitely precious. ‘Oh, that would be wonderful! Whatever day or time suits you, just let me know and I’ll be there.’ She was still beaming as she left the room and closed the door behind her.
‘That was kind of you,’ Ziggy said, coming to sit down, bringing with him a fresh round of drinks.
‘It seemed like it was important to her, and if she wants to make the effort to get to know them then I’m not going to stand in the way.’ His mother might not have been able to love him in the way a child deserved, but he wasn’t that hurt little boy any more. She seemed eager to forge a bond with the children and, at the end of the day, they were what mattered.
Ziggy nodded. ‘She’s been trying really hard. I won’t make excuses for what went on in the past, but it took a lot for her to stand up to Monty and insist on staying home for a while.’
‘How long have they been back?’
‘Since the spring. She’d been on at him for ages to visit and I think he broke her heart when she found out he was only coming home because he thought he’d found a way to sell the estate out from under us.’ Ziggy’s mouth twisted into a bitter grimace.
Dylan rocked back in his seat. ‘Sell the estate? You can’t be serious!’
Ziggy lifted his tea to his lips and blew across the hot surface before setting it back down with a sigh. ‘Technically, it all belongs to him, but I’d have fought him tooth and nail if he’d tried to go ahead with it. I know he always hated the place, but I didn’t think his desire for revenge over Grandfather would run so deep as to try and do a deal behind our backs. He only gave up on the idea when Mum threatened to leave him, and things are still pretty dicey between them. He’s gone travelling a couple of times over the past few months, but she’s stuck to her guns and stayed put. She won’t stay in that camper van of theirs and he refuses to give it up so they’re at something of an impasse.’
Dylan’s head reeled as he tried to understand what Ziggy was telling him. In the end he latched onto the most trivial bit of information. ‘You don’t mean he’s still got that same old VW van?’ Unlike his brothers and sister, Dylan had never been sad when the rainbow-coloured vehicle had chugged off down the drive, taking their parents away for another of their trips to far-flung places. No one had ever admitted it but, after the initial tears, they had all been happier when their parents were away. Or perhaps it had just been him.
Ziggy smiled, but there was little warmth in it. ‘The very same one. We’ve offered him use of one of the holiday lets, but Monty’s as stubborn as ever. I’m amazed he’s stayed as long as he has.’
‘Will he be here for the dinner?’
His brother shook his head. ‘No. My anger towards him is nothing compared to how Hope, Rhys and Ben feel about it. Rhys hasn’t spoken a word to him. His partner, Tasha, got caught up in the whole mess and he nearly lost her over it. If Monty would apologise then it might go some way to thawing things between them, but you know what he’s like.’
Dylan shot his brother a wry grin. ‘Still no good at taking responsibility, I take it?’
‘He’s worse, if anything. I don’t think Mum has it in her to actually divorce him after all the years she stood by him, but sometimes I think she’s just waiting for him to leave and not come back.’
‘You think that’s likely?’
Ziggy shrugged. ‘He doesn’t seem interested in mending any fences. He spends more time down the pub than he does around here.’
‘I saw him coming out of there when we arrived,’ Dylan recalled. ‘He was all smiles.’
‘He always was better at getting on with strangers.’ There was no bitterness in his brother’s words, just a simple statement of fact.
Dylan reached across the table to grasp Ziggy’s hand. ‘We don’t need him. We never did because we always had each other.’ Until he’d chosen to walk away, that was. Perhaps he was more like their father than he liked to admit. It was an uncomfortable feeling.
Ziggy’s grip tightened as their eyes locked. ‘I’m not letting you go again, Dyl. My heart won’t take it.’