Читать книгу Coming Home - Melanie Rose - Страница 11

We were sitting at the kitchen table, finishing bowls of cereal washed down with strong sweet tea, when the front doorbell rang. Tara got to her feet, muttering about how it was a miracle that anyone could come calling in this much snow. As soon as she left the kitchen to answer it, Vincent turned to me. He seemed to be struggling for words and I waited, wondering what he was going to say.

‘This seems to be a day for miracles,’ he said quietly. I glanced at Jadie, who was sitting with her mug of milky tea, but she didn’t seem bothered by her father’s comment. ‘I don’t know what you did to get Jadie to speak but I want you to know…well, if there’s anything you want, anything I can do, just say the word. And you are welcome to stay here until you are completely recovered.’

‘Thank you.’ I managed a smile through the lump that had formed in my throat, ‘I don’t want to impose on your hospitality, but until the roads are open or my memory returns, I think you might very well be stuck with me. Even though neither of us knows what you should call me…’

‘Ah, I’ve just remembered another miracle.’ He tentatively returned the smile. ‘I left a message on Adam Jenkins’s answering machine last night—he’s the local farmer who owns the field you collapsed in—and he called back this morning to say he’s got the cat you were talking about. Apparently she’s alive and well.’

My heart leaped with the good news. With all my possessions and memories gone, it was good to think that just up the road was a creature that might actually belong to me. She was the only link to my past. ‘Thank you so much,’ I enthused. ‘It really means a lot to know she’s safe.’

‘Sorry to break up your little celebration.’ Tara was watching us stonily from the doorway. ‘Maria from next door wants to know if you are still going round to dinner this evening.’

She was directing the question at Vincent, but her eyes strayed to me as I sank back quickly in my seat at the table.

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea.’ He seemed hesitant. ‘I never really wanted to go in the first place. Can’t you put her off?’

‘Now that is not a very neighbourly thing to say,’ a heavily accented female voice admonished from behind Tara’s shoulder.

Tara stood to one side, allowing a buxom dark-haired beauty into the kitchen. Maria pulled out a chair and sat down, crossing her suede-booted legs with a flourish. ‘You must come, Vincenzo, you promised!’

‘I didn’t promise anything of the sort.’ Vincent looked decidedly awkward. ‘I said I’d think about it.’

Maria’s face fell and for a moment I thought she was actually going to burst into tears. ‘But I have already begun the preparations.’

I noticed Tara rolling her eyes heavenward behind her, her lips pursed with obvious disapproval at Maria’s attempt to persuade him.

Vincent looked down at the table, his pale skin colouring slightly. ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble.’

‘It is no trouble at all. And it would be good for both me and Michael to have some adult company for a change.’

‘Male company, you mean,’ Tara muttered under her breath.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Maria turned smouldering eyes on Tara.

Tara shrugged and Vincent shifted uncomfortably in his chair as the two women glared at one another. He looked across at me and his face brightened. My presence had given him the perfect excuse to refuse the invitation. ‘But I haven’t introduced you to our guest,’ he said. ‘This is a miracle worker who is staying with us at present. It would be very rude of me to go out while we have a visitor.’

Maria hesitated, giving me a curious glance up and down. Apparently satisfied that I was no competition for her, she held out a beautifully manicured hand. ‘I am pleased to make your acquaintance.’ She grimaced slightly as if the words were painful to her. ‘Of course the invitation includes you also.’

A look flickered across Vincent’s features that I couldn’t quite discern, but after a moment’s hesitation he nodded, turning to Tara, who was rather sulkily inspecting her own rather short nails. ‘You won’t mind babysitting for Jadie, will you, Tara? You’re pretty much stuck here anyway until the roads are cleared.’

‘I could cook for us here,’ Tara offered. ‘Then you wouldn’t need a babysitter.’

‘But then I would have to leave my own son all alone—and I have planned to make one of my speciality Sicilian dishes,’ Maria countered.

Vincent sighed and I could see he was finding the interaction between the two women tiresome. I found myself thinking once again that perhaps there was more to the relationship between Vincent and Tara than just the normal employer/employee one.

‘What do you think?’ He looked directly at me. ‘Fancy a night out eating home-made Sicilian food?’

All eyes were upon me.

‘Er…’ I spluttered awkwardly.

‘Say you’ll come.’

I stared questioningly at him and his handsome features broke out into a hopeful smile. ‘Maria’s cooking is not something to turn down lightly,’ he said.

I avoided Tara’s gaze. I had to admit I didn’t much want Vincent to go next door alone with the luscious and apparently single Maria any more than his housekeeper did, but I was even less enamoured of the prospect of spending the evening in Tara’s company. ‘I would be delighted,’ I said at last.

‘Excellent!’ Maria exclaimed, though she was looking at Vincent, not me. ‘I will expect you at eight thirty.’ She threw Tara a triumphant glance, pushed back her chair and rose to her feet.

Tara sprang up, obviously relieved she was leaving. ‘I’ll show you out,’ she said shortly.

When the kitchen door had closed behind them, Vincent glanced at me apologetically. ‘Thank you for coming to my rescue. I hope you don’t mind me dragging you over to Maria’s tonight. She waylaid me while I was out clearing snow yesterday and was most insistent that I join her.’ He gave me a rueful smile. ‘I know you’re not well with that head injury of yours, but you still need to eat, and she really does cook very well.’

My hand went to the plaster on my head; the cut didn’t hurt and I’d forgotten all about it. ‘It’ll be fun,’ I said graciously. I was still euphoric with the news that the cat I’d abandoned in the snow was alive and well. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

‘I hope you won’t think of the evening as a chore. You have already repaid any kindness by helping my daughter to find her voice.’

I looked at Jadie, who seemed busy cutting enough small bits of white paper from the pile her father had brought from his study to make her own indoor snowstorm. She was engrossed in her task.

As if she realised our eyes were upon her, she glanced up. ‘Why is Tara cross?’ she asked.

‘It’s nothing you need to worry your pretty head about.’ Vincent hastily made for the door. I noticed his daughter’s ability to speak had quickly lost its appeal for him with her first awkward question, and I could see why she had retreated behind a wall of silence if this had been his reaction to any questions she had had after the death of her sister. ‘I must get back to my work—’ he glanced apologetically at me—‘if you’ll excuse me.’

We listened to the sound of his feet disappearing down the passage.

Jadie looked more pointedly at me. ‘Why is Tara cross?’ she asked again, and after a pause where she seemed to be trying out a newly discovered word, she added, ‘What’s an adult company?’

I sighed and wished Vincent would come back and rescue me. It wasn’t my place to explain things the child’s father would not, but I felt that if I didn’t answer she might disappear off into her silent world once more.

‘I’m not entirely sure why Tara is cross,’ I replied carefully. ‘But I think Maria meant she wanted someone of her own age to talk to. It must be very lonely living way out here.’

She contemplated my answer, then lowered her breathy little voice. ‘I’m not lonely,’ she said, without taking her eyes off me. ‘I talk to Amber.’

I wondered if perhaps her ‘talks’ with her deceased sister had been enough to fill the void of what otherwise must have been a very lonely little world. I saw that she was watching me closely.

‘Is it all right for me to talk to Amber?’ she asked, her eyes fixed anxiously on mine. ‘I don’t think Daddy or Tara would like it.’

She was probably right. With a child’s intuitiveness she had realised that the subject of Amber was somehow out of bounds and, perhaps not wanting to upset her father or Tara, she had withdrawn from them and lived with her sister’s memory alive and well in some secret place inside herself.

I rested my elbows on the table and leaned towards her. ‘It’s perfectly all right and normal for you to miss your sister. Thinking about Amber and talking to her inside your head just means that you loved her very much. A part of her will always be with you.’

Jadie smiled. I pushed back my chair so she wouldn’t see the tears glistening in my eyes and went to the kitchen window to stare out at the white lawn sparkling under an ice-blue sky at the side of the house. The snowman was still there, wearing the colourful scarf and Jadie’s woollen hat. Without looking round I felt Jadie come to stand beside me. She slipped her small hand inside mine and I gave it a quick squeeze.

‘Amber says she loves you,’ she said quietly.

‘Look at all the mess you’re making,’ Tara chided Jadie irritably. ‘Why don’t you get out your colouring pencils instead and I’ll throw all this rubbish away?’

‘No!’ wailed Jadie. ‘Those are my snowflakes. Daddy showed me how to do them.’

Tara stared at her. ‘I can’t believe you’ve decided to talk to us after all this time. If there’s nothing wrong with you why didn’t you talk for the doctors, eh?’

Jadie hung her head and I glared at Tara, annoyed by her insensitivity.

‘And don’t you go looking at me like I’m some sort of heartless monster,’ she flung at me. ‘You haven’t been trying to decipher her sign language for the last two years. You have no notion what it’s been like, playing bloody charades all day every day, sometimes not having a clue what it is she wants. On top of everything else we’ve had to cope with, it’s not been a picnic, I can tell you.’

I lowered my voice so that Jadie couldn’t hear me: ‘I’m sure it must have been hard—’

‘You have no idea!’ Tara snatched cups and bowls off the table and turned to the dishwasher so I couldn’t see her face. She loaded it noisily, then turned back to me suddenly. ‘The doctors told us Jadie’s refusal to speak was an anxiety thing. Apparently it affects about one in a thousand children and it’s not because she couldn’t speak—she just refused to, and the longer she went on doing it the harder it was for her to start again. We tried everything to help her but she’s a stubborn little thing—gets it from her father no doubt.’ She sniffed loudly, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. ‘Do you have children?’

I fell silent, considering the possibility for the second time since I had been in this house, groping inside a head that seemed devoid of memories. It was like looking at a blank wall and I found myself quelling a sudden upsurging of panic. ‘I don’t think so,’ I said at last.

A pang of sympathy crossed Tara’s face. ‘Then you have no idea what heartache they can bring. I worked here when Amber was still with us and I loved both those little girls like they were my own. We lost Amber and then their mother left, and we’ve been waiting…’

I glanced towards Jadie, horrified at what Tara might be going to say, but she shook her head, sniffed loudly and finished, ‘…waiting for Jadie to speak. And it’s been hard on me and harder on her father. And then you blow in with the snowstorm and suddenly Vincent is playing with his little girl for the first time in two years and Jadie decides to talk…’

She bit her lip fiercely, fighting back tears and I stood still, unsure how to react. After a moment I unrooted my feet and hurried over to put a tentative arm round her shoulders.

‘I can see how much you care for them both,’ I said, wishing I wasn’t partly the cause of her distress, ‘and I can also see that you are important to both of them. They probably couldn’t have coped without you all this time. I’m just here by chance and maybe Jadie chose to speak simply because she was ready to. I’m sure it had nothing to do with me.’

‘Yes, well, whatever,’ Tara said in a strangled voice. She shrugged me off.

‘Jadie, come and give Tara a hug.’ Feeling decidedly awkward I turned to the child, who released the pile of snowflakes she’d been clutching protectively, slid off her chair and came to put her arms round Tara’s middle.

Tara smiled down through the glint of tears to the top of Jadie’s fair head. I left them to it and turned to finish clearing the table, but Tara was having none of it.

‘You’re a guest,’ she insisted, breaking free from Jadie’s embrace and hurrying to take the dishes from me. ‘This is my job.’

I stood back and watched as Tara finished loading the dishwasher. Jadie, taking no chances, picked up her scattered snowflakes and took them over to the windowsill, where she held them up to the light one at a time.

‘They’re lovely,’ I told her.

She turned to me, beaming. ‘What are we going to do next?’ she asked.

With an inward groan I realised that I had made myself the playmate of a six-year-old. But I had some grown-up things to attend to first.

‘I’m going to see if your daddy minds if I use the telephone,’ I told her. ‘I need to ring the police to see if anyone’s reported me missing.’

Jadie giggled. ‘It’s funny you think you’re missing, when you’re right here.’

‘I won’t be long.’ I shot a sideways glance at Tara, slipped out of the kitchen and walked along the passage towards Vincent’s office. Raising my hand to knock, I paused with my hand in midair as a torrent of swearing assailed my ears. The door was ajar, so I peered in. Vincent was sitting in profile, staring at his computer screen in consternation.

I gave a discreet little cough and he spun round, half rose from his chair and slammed his laptop closed with a snap of annoyance.

‘The damn thing says there’s no signal.’ He glanced across at me with a belated attempt at nonchalance. ‘It was working perfectly first thing. I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep in touch with the outside world when I can’t even use the internet.’ He sank back down in his leather swivel chair and tapped his fingers impatiently on the closed lid as if willing it to come to life.

‘Used up all your miracles today?’ I suggested glibly.

‘What?’ Vincent scowled at me and then his expression cleared. ‘I’m sorry. I’m working on something rather important and a lot can happen in the financial world in a few hours. It’s got me rattled, but you’re right, in comparison with Jadie suddenly finding her voice after all this time, it’s nothing.’ He seemed visibly to relax and leaned back and swivelled the chair gently to and fro as he surveyed me curiously. ‘How did you do it?’

Taking his question as an invitation to come into the room, I crept closer to him and stood near his desk. ‘I didn’t do anything,’ I told him truthfully. ‘I didn’t know she couldn’t talk, so when she spoke to me, I just answered her, that’s all.’

‘You must have sparked something in her,’ he persisted. ‘Tara has spent the best part of the last two years taking Jadie to all sorts of therapists and none of them could get her to talk. Her teachers have given up trying and just let her sit in silence. Fortunately it doesn’t seem to have affected her ability to learn, but it can’t be doing much for her social skills.’

He rose from his chair, which was the only seat in the room and waved for me to sit down, but I shook my head. ‘I’m fine. I only came to ask if I could use the telephone. I need to contact the police and find out if anyone’s reported me missing. Someone must be looking for me.’

‘Yes, of course.’ He waved a hand towards the phone. ‘Go right ahead.’

I picked up the phone and held it to my ear. ‘There’s no dialling tone.’

‘What? Give it here.’ He leaned over and took the phone from me, putting it to his own ear. ‘Oh, great; the line’s dead. That’s probably why I can’t get a signal.’

‘I thought you said your farmer friend had rung you back this morning,’ I said, puzzled.

‘Yes, Adam rang about an hour ago and it was working fine then. Damn! Maybe there’s snow on the wires or something.’

I watched as he banged the phone down on its stand. ‘So now we’re completely cut off.’ He looked around the silent room as if the concept was totally new to him. ‘It’s an odd feeling, having no contact with the outside world.’

My insides churned with renewed panic. If we were completely cut off, there was no way I could find out who I was or where I had come from. I thought he should try being in my shoes; not only severed from the outside world but stranded in a stranger’s house with nothing to call my own but the clothes I was standing up in. ‘What about your mobile?’ I asked, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.

‘Mobiles don’t work here. We’re in a dip between two small hills and you can’t get a signal until you reach the top road,’ he explained. ‘It’s never really bothered me because we’ve got the house phone and the computer. As soon as I’m at the station or on the train to London, the mobile works OK. And you can get a signal up on the hill at the Jenkinses’ farm.’

I stared at him. Perhaps there were worse places to be completely stranded, but I still felt trapped. I realised I was utterly at his mercy for every little thing. ‘I haven’t even got a toothbrush.’ I tried to keep my voice from trembling.

‘I’m not sure that counts as a life-or-death emergency,’ he said with the beginnings of a smile. ‘I’m sure Tara will be able to find you one from her store of “just in case” items. Tara seems to live in fear of the world ending at any time and society being plunged into chaos.’

‘Tara seems very much part of the family,’ I put in tentatively. ‘She tells me she’s been here since Jadie was a baby.’

‘Yes, she was doing her nursing training back then, and came to work for us a few hours every week to help fund her course. Cheryl needed someone to help when we realised both children were ill, and we gradually relied on Tara more and more. She eventually gave up her training and her job at the hospital to work here full time. Tara might not be a fully qualified nurse but we couldn’t do without her, despite her little quirks.’ Vincent gave me a brief smile. ‘I’ll ask her about a toothbrush.’

I returned the smile, feeling a connection with him. He immediately broke eye contact and turned to rummage with some papers on his desk.

‘Thank you.’ I wondered vaguely why Tara hadn’t volunteered a toothbrush last night if she had a stock of things like that. But on second thoughts I couldn’t see her putting herself out on my behalf; I remembered the feeling I’d had that there was more to her devotion to this family than just her job and I risked another appraising look at Vincent as he fiddled with a pen. Tara had already admitted to loving Jadie as if she were her own child, and she certainly hadn’t liked either Maria or me getting anywhere near her employer. I wondered about the sacrifice she’d made in giving up her future as a qualified nurse to stay here. The sooner I was gone the better Tara would like it, of that I was in no doubt at all.