Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-six
Carly
‘So we could pack a picnic and drive up into the hills,’ Suki suggests. ‘Or take a boat trip across the loch, or watch the red kites from the hide. What d’you think?’
‘I think I’ll stay here and use the hot tub,’ Dinah announces at breakfast. ‘I came here for a rest, Suki. You all go out.’
‘I’m not leaving you here all alone,’ Suki protests.
‘I’ll be fine! Honestly.’
I glance at Oliver and we seem to transmit a look. It hardly seems believable that Suki’s been hatching a plan to get her brother and Dinah together. ‘No, I’ll stay with you, Dinah,’ she says with a trace of regret. ‘We’ll have a lovely time chilling out together.’ She musters a bright smile and turns to Oliver and me. ‘But what will you two do?’
‘I’m happy to amuse myself,’ I say quickly, hoping my relief isn’t obvious. I wasn’t loving the idea of a whole day with Dinah, extolling her strident views on the correct way to parent adult kids.
‘I can show you around, if you like?’ Oliver ventures. ‘I’ve spent quite a bit of time up here.’
‘I’d love that,’ I enthuse, ‘if you’re sure.’ And so we set off in Oliver’s Land Rover, with the picnic Suki insisted on packing for us. ‘I’m not really a hot-tub person,’ he remarks as we leave the cabins behind.
‘You do surprise me.’ I smile, and he chuckles. There’s been no discussion of where we might go today. I have a feeling we’ll just see where the winding lanes lead us on this bright and sunny spring morning. I glance at Oliver as he drives – calmly and steadily, rather than barging around corners, as he did last night – suspecting that he is as relieved as I am to be heading out for the day.
Come home! Prish messaged earlier, in response to my message. You don’t have to stick it out. We can go out tonight if you like, if you need to spill it all out? I felt a little foolish replying that the situation had ‘improved’ and that I was planning to see how things panned out.
Now we’re climbing higher, cresting the hill where the landscape spreads out before us like the spectacular opening of a film. Way down below, a loch glimmers in the bright morning sunshine. ‘Oh, this is incredible,’ I exclaim.
Oliver smiles. ‘So you’re glad you stayed after all?’
‘Yes, I am,’ I say truthfully. We settle into a comfortable silence as the road ribbons back and forth down the hillside. And as the loch grows closer, I sense Oliver turning something over in his mind.
‘So, that photo Suki showed us last night,’ he ventures, giving me a quick look.
My heart jolts. ‘You mean the one of Lyla and Eddie?’
‘Yeah,’ Oliver says. ‘It can’t be easy for you, all of this …’ What does he think, I wonder, as Lyla’s uncle? I can’t imagine he’s overjoyed either.
‘No, it’s not,’ I say carefully. ‘But it’s not really about me, and what I think, is it?’
‘Well, it kind of is,’ he remarks, and I’m not sure how to respond.
‘I just … hope they’ll be okay,’ I say, taking care not to let anything slip out. Because it feels as important to keep up the pretence with Oliver as it does with Suki. ‘I mean, I hope Lyla’s well and healthy and that everything’s fine with the baby,’ I go on. ‘That’s all that matters really. And afterwards, when the baby’s born …’ I break off, suddenly overcome by emotion. ‘I can hardly get my head around that part,’ I admit. ‘That Eddie will be a dad. It just seems crazy and impossible, you know?’ I glance at Oliver, hoping he doesn’t think I’m rambling. But I’ve barely talked about the fact that, virtually every moment of every day, all I can think is that a baby is growing. My grandchild, who I know will change all of our lives forever. I haven’t even shared this with Prish or Jamie, as I haven’t been able to put it into words. And I still haven’t told Dad.
‘I know what you mean,’ Oliver says. ‘They are young, aren’t they? There’s no getting around that.’ He glances at me. ‘I guess it’s one of those situations where it’s affecting you hugely but you actually feel a bit powerless.’
‘Yes, it’s exactly that.’ I pause, surprised by his understanding. That’s it, I decide. This new life is happening – never mind that the situation is a mess – and I simply don’t know what to think or do. It’s left me flailing, with Frank and I falling apart.
‘D’you have children?’ I ask now. After my faux pas with Dinah last night, I’ve hesitated to broach the subject.
‘I do,’ Oliver replies. ‘Two boys, all grown up now.’
‘They’ve left home?’
‘Yeah, yeah, a few years ago. And you have three, is that right?’
‘That’s right,’ I reply. I tell him about Bella in London, and Ana loving her art student life as she carouses around Dundee.
‘You must miss them a lot,’ he ventures.
‘Oh, I do. They come home on visits of course. And their dad and I see them when we can. We’ve had a couple of trips to London to visit Bella. But I’m happy, you know. They grew up in a sleepy little seaside town and were desperate to get out there into the world. Not like Eddie. He hung on the longest, only moved out in January—’
I stop myself. Oh, Christ. When the pregnancy was announced, he and Lyla were meant to have been together for six months. My brain whirs, calculating how long the great love affair should have been going on for now. Eight months? Don’t panic, I tell myself as we pull up at the lochside. Oliver won’t be doing the maths. We climb out, and I’m relieved as he points out a ruined castle perched on a rocky outcrop. We head towards it with the picnic stashed in Oliver’s rucksack. Thankfully, he seems more interested in enjoying the day than delving into whatever might be going on with my son and his niece.
‘My kids were obsessed with castles,’ he says.
‘Mine too. The more ruined the better. That way, they knew there’d be no boring exhibits to look at inside them …’
‘Just crumbly old walls with plenty of climbing potential,’ he says, and I laugh.
‘Exactly.’ We reach the castle and perch on the softly worn wall overlooking the loch. ‘So, how was it for you when your kids moved out?’ I ask.
‘Um … it seemed okay at the time.’ A wry smile and a shrug. ‘But then their mum and I got divorced. Patrice decided her work was done—’
‘Oh, I am sorry,’ I say quickly.
‘No. It’s fine. Well, it wasn’t fine at the time. Far from it. But … you know. We’d had the boys pretty young, and it turned out that it was them who’d been holding us together.’ Is that me and Frank too? I wonder. Is our work done too? ‘We’re okay now,’ he adds. ‘We’re … cordial.’ Another wry smile.
‘It’s a big change when the kids go,’ I admit. ‘Not quite what I expected. I mean, Frank and I …’ I pause, wondering how to put it. ‘I suppose we’re still adjusting.’
Oliver nods. ‘You crave all this time and space, and then you get it and don’t know what to do with yourself.’
‘Exactly. So, you mentioned you’re moving?’ I prompt him.
‘Yeah. I’ve been working on some projects down south but there’s something up here I really want to get my teeth into—’
‘The beaver project?’ I cut in, and he nods.
‘That’s it. We’ve reintroduced them to other areas really successfully. A family near here hope to do the same on their land—’ He stops, catching himself. ‘God, don’t let me get started on the project …’
‘I’d love to hear about it,’ I say truthfully.
‘Really? I can show you the site if you like. I mean, where we’ve build the lodge—’
‘The lodge?’
‘A home for beavers, built from sticks and undergrowth.’
‘Oh, I see!’
He chuckles. ‘Honestly, enough about that. So, Suki mentioned that you’re a librarian?’
‘Yep, nothing as exciting as reintroducing threatened indigenous species …’
‘See, you do know about beavers!’
I smile. ‘We have a natural history society that meets up in the library. Sometimes I sidle over, just to make sure that’s really what they’re up to with their hushed conversations and intense minute-taking …’
‘They’re not out and about, discovering nature in the wild?’
‘They do that too, but we have a brilliant natural history section. Lots of rare out-of-print volumes on wildlife and ecology and …’ I cut off. ‘Now listen to me , going on!’
‘Sounds great,’ Oliver enthuses. ‘I should meet them, if I’m ever in the area.’
‘Oh, they’re terrifying. Mostly in their late seventies – even eighties, some of them – but they reckon they run the library. We moved their table once because there was leak above it. “Carly,”’ I start, mimicking Thelma Campbell’s strident tone, ‘“we’re really not sure about the repositioning and the strong consensus is that it should be put right back where it was!”’
Oliver laughs. ‘“Natural History Society outraged by table move.”’
‘Exactly. You’d think we’d put it in the toilets for all the furore it caused.’
‘So it all goes on in your library,’ he suggests.
‘Like you wouldn’t believe,’ I say as we make a start on our picnic, looking out over the loch. And so the hours pass. We drive on for a while, stopping at any spots that take our fancy. Eventually, we enter a country estate, where we park at a stable block and then step carefully along a narrow path through the woods.
Finally we arrive at the river. The late afternoon is cooling now, the sky darkening as heavy clouds gather. We finish the remains of the picnic and perch on a fallen tree at the water’s edge. Here, beavers have dammed the river to create a pool of still, calm water. We sit and watch as dragonflies skim across it, their iridescence catching the light. And finally a beaver emerges from the mound of sticks – the lodge – and plops into the water.
‘Oh, wow,’ I breathe, transfixed.
‘We’re lucky,’ Oliver whispers. ‘They usually only start to come out at dusk.’ We watch as the beaver glides majestically, head slicked wet, held just above water. Another emerges, and I feel as if I am barely breathing as we take in the scene.
My head is swimming with the sights of the day as we pick our way back through the forest. ‘So, did you enjoy your day?’ he asks later as he parks up at the cabins.
‘It was wonderful,’ I say truthfully. A small pause settles as we climb out of his Land Rover.
‘Look, um …’ he starts, seeming suddenly awkward. ‘I don’t want to pry, but …’
‘What about?’ My chest seems to tighten.
‘You, uh … you mentioned that Eddie moved out in January, didn’t you?’
Oh God. Here it comes. ‘Er … yes.’ I nod, waiting for it to follow. He knows, I realise, as we make our way towards Suki’s cabin. He knows the whole Lyla-and-Eddie thing is a lie.
‘But,’ he starts, ‘Suki said they’ve been together for—’
‘Yes, I know,’ I say quickly. Her cabin is in view now, fairy lights twinkling in the dusk. ‘It’s what Lyla wants her mum to think,’ I explain, my cheeks burning as if I’m the one who concocted the lie. ‘Eddie told us that’s the story, and that we had to go along with it. But actually …’ I look at him, grimacing. ‘They just had a fling – a one-night thing, I think. And that was that.’
Oliver holds my gaze for a moment. ‘I kind of wondered,’ he says gently.
‘It’s crazy really,’ I add. ‘I don’t know why they’re lying and it’s bound to come out. I mean, they’re not even together. It’s all an act. But would you please not say anything to Suki? I’d hate it all to come out, and for her to be upset, especially this weekend—’
‘Hey,’ he says, touching my arm. ‘Of course I won’t say anything.’
‘Thank you. It seems really important—’ I break off as Suki appears on the deck.
‘Back at last!’ She grins, welcoming us into the cabin and pressing glasses of wine into our hands.
‘Hey, let me get my jacket off,’ Oliver says, laughing, and glances at me. Perhaps it will be okay, I reassure myself, as Suki spins off, a blur of tousled blonde hair in her pink cotton dress, to put the finishing touches to dinner. Dinah has yet to appear. I think about everything Oliver and I have seen today – the beavers and the dragonflies dancing on the still water, not to mention the castle and the gleaming loch. She’s missed so much. Frankly, I can’t understand why she came here. Yet my spirits remain high, even when Dinah finally emerges from her room to join us at the dinner table.
Of course Oliver won’t tell. I just know that. And who cares if our resident psychotherapist seems intent on putting the damper on the weekend? Employing the bombard-with-enthusiasm approach, I tell her all about our day.
‘Sounds great,’ she says noncommittally.
‘Did you have a nice time?’ I ask.
‘Yes, very nice,’ she says. ‘Though I’m not really a hot-tub person.’
‘You could’ve fooled me,’ Suki teases. ‘We were in there for hours, shrivelling away.’
Dinner is more relaxed tonight, and when we’re finished Suki looks around at all of us, eyes sparkling. ‘Maybe we can all come up here when the baby’s born,’ she announces.
‘Oh. That would be lovely,’ I manage.
‘Lyla loves it here,’ she adds. ‘She’s a nature girl really, like me.’ I catch Dinah studying me and take a big swig of wine. It’s as if she knows , I realise. As if she’s well aware that Lyla is spinning her mother a yarn. And that I – bringer of substandard wines – am in on it too.
‘So, Carly,’ she starts, spearing me with a look across the table, ‘how did Eddie and Lyla meet?’
Sweat beads on my forehead as all eyes are on me. What do I do now? Feign illness? Conjure up the sciatica I’ve never had and stagger off, groaning in ‘pain’? I glance at Oliver as if he might be able to help me wriggle out of this. ‘I, er …’ I start. Then something happens and I can only think of it as a double miracle.
One, my phone must have come within signal range because – two! – it starts ringing in my pocket. Someone’s calling me! It’s probably a scam call, but I’m already dispensing silent thanks to the scammer as I leap up and snatch it from my pocket. ‘Sorry, I’d better take this …’
Striding away from the table, I blink down at name that’s displayed. Dad? Why would he be calling? I step out of the cabin and onto the deck.
‘Dad, is everything okay?’
‘Carly …’ His breathing sounds ragged and my heart rate accelerates in panic.
‘Dad! What is it?’
‘I – I’m probably making a fuss about nothing. But I’m feeling bad. Really bad. And I don’t know what to do. Sorry. I didn’t want to call and spoil your trip.’
‘What’s happening? What are you feeling, Dad—’
‘Please, just come and help me, Carly. Please help.’