Читать книгу Traces of Her - Amanda Brittany - Страница 15

My phone rings as we pull onto the drive outside Darlington House. It’s Aaron.

‘Go ring the bell, sweetheart,’ I say to Becky, and she clambers from the passenger seat and hurtles towards the front door. I answer the call.

‘Just landed,’ Aaron says, as though he is a passenger on a flight, rather than the pilot. I admit it’s what hooked me in when I met him a year ago. Although I’m not sure if, at the time, I equated a pilot’s uniform with being alone so often. But when he is home he’s the best partner there is, so I mustn’t complain.

‘That’s great,’ I say. ‘I thought we might have a takeaway tonight. I’ve picked up wine.’

‘Sounds good. I should be home in a couple of hours.’

I will only see him for two days before he takes off again. I don’t like it, but I guess I’m getting used to it. I love him and the times we spend together mean everything. And there’s always the bonus that absence is a great aphrodisiac.

‘I’m at my dad’s at the moment,’ I say into the phone. ‘But I need to tell you something when I see you.’

‘What?’ He sounds alarmed. ‘You can’t leave me hanging. Nothing’s wrong, is it? Is Becky OK?’

‘She’s fine. Nothing’s wrong. It’s just that … well, Willow called.’

‘Willow? Is she OK?’ He’s met Willow several times, and they seem to get on well, although he does find her a bit flaky, and frankly I’m not surprised.

‘Yes. Yes, I think so. I’ll tell you everything when you get home.’

‘Did she say why she hasn’t been in contact?’

‘Of course.’ I don’t want to get into a conversation about it right now. ‘She’s staying in Cornwall, apparently. I’m going down there when school breaks up.’

‘What’s she doing in Cornwall?’

‘It’s a long story, Aaron.’ I bite down on my bottom lip. ‘Listen, can we talk at home? I’m at my dad’s,’ I repeat.

‘OK, yes, I’ll see you soon,’ he says.

He rings off, and I drop my phone into my bag.

As I climb from the car and stride towards Darlington House, I notice Eleanor’s jeep isn’t on the drive. Dad will be alone. The house is too big for two people, but Eleanor refuses to sell up and move somewhere smaller – she says her memories are here. She told me once she still hears Willow’s childhood laughter echoing around the walls.

Becky has left the front door ajar, and I step inside out of the bright day, and into the dimly lit hallway that feels cold, whatever the weather.

‘Hi,’ I call out, placing my bag on the antique cabinet by the door.

‘In here, Mum,’ Becky calls back, and I make my way into the lounge, where three sofas – that have been there since we moved in and are now a little worn – hug an open fireplace that hasn’t been lit since last winter. Sun pours in through the huge bay window, and I blink, my eyes adjusting to the sudden light. Becky and Dad sit in the middle of one of the sofas, her head on his shoulder.

He peers at me over his glasses, ‘Rose, darling. It’s lovely to see you. How’s the headship going?’ He’s so proud – part of the reason I accepted it. ‘I was telling the boys at the Fox and Hound how well you’re doing.’

‘Fine,’ I say, looking about me. It isn’t strictly true –I’m not sure I’m cut out to manage a school. ‘Where’s Eleanor?’

‘Shopping with the girls,’ he says, with a small laugh. ‘They call themselves “the girls” and yet they’re almost sixty.’

I want to say I know. That he tells me that every time I visit. I bend and kiss his silver-grey hair, his familiar aftershave tickling my nostrils, making me smile. ‘Shall I make some tea?’

‘Not for me, dear,’ he says, and Becky shakes her head, giving me a look as if to say tell him, tell him Willow called.

‘It’s such good news,’ Dad says once I’ve told him. His irises look far too blue, as though he might cry, showing however many times Willow takes off, it still worries him. He loves Willow as though she is his own daughter.

Becky takes her grandpa’s hand in hers and squeezes. ‘We’re going to see her at the weekend. We’ll bring her back. Promise.’ She fumbles in her pocket for a tissue and dabs his cheeks. ‘Everything is going to be just fine, Grandpa. You’ll see.’

*

Aaron’s Mercedes is on the drive when we get home, and a fizz of excitement runs through me.

‘Call me when the Chinese is here,’ Becky says once we’re inside and she’s unlacing her Doc Martens and tugging them free. She jumps to her feet and bobs her head around the lounge door. ‘Hey, Aaron,’ she calls, raising her hand in a wave.

‘Hey, Becky,’ he says, waving back.

‘I’ll have beef and broccoli with boiled rice.’ She’s done her research online for the healthiest Chinese takeaway options, and always has the same thing.

She drops her boots and heads up the stairs. I bend to pick them up and stand them neatly on the shoe shelf.

I enter the lounge. Aaron is watching The One Show. He looks up, points the remote control at the TV, and presses pause.

‘Hey, beautiful,’ he says, rising and heading towards me, taking me into his arms. He’s showered – smells of Jimmy Choo. He’s worn it ever since I bought him a bottle at Christmas.

‘It’s so good to see you,’ I say, nuzzling into his shoulder, breathing him in. I suppose the only consolation of this difficult way of life is we never seem to get bored with each other. My heart still races when I see him, and he says his does too. I’m guessing if we’d seen each other every second of the last year, things might be different – more static, normal. But I guess I’ll never know. He suggested once that he could change careers, said he hated that we were apart so often, but I knew how much he loved his job – still does. It wouldn’t have been fair to ask him to throw it in for me.

‘It’s so good to see you too,’ he says, placing a kiss on my forehead, and releasing me. He sits back down, patting the seat next to him.

I grab my laptop, and as I lean back, opening it up, his arm falls loosely around my shoulders, and I feel safe. ‘I’d better order the Chinese,’ I say with a smile.

‘Pork in black bean sauce for me, please’ he says, pointing the remote control at the TV again and unfreezing Matt Baker, his smile dimpling his cheek as he glances at the menu with me.

An email notification appears in the corner of my laptop screen. I click on it. It’s from Willow, telling me her address in Cornwall – and a brief message:

I can’t wait to see you, Rose. I need you so much, Willow. X