Page 22 of Lime Tree Hill

But then there was Cherry Grove.

He turned up the radio, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat. By the time they arrived at the house, the rain drifting in from the coast was pelting down with attitude.

She sat still, wanting to ask him a hundred questions, but too shy to voice even one. “Did you have a nice time in London?”

Lame, Tayla. So lame.

Mitch turned to face her and leaned his back on the door. “I did. Two of my sisters live there. They were both pregnant at the same time, and I’m officially an uncle now. Sam arrived before I was hardly off the plane, and Etta four weeks early, just before I left. My mother and stepfather were there too, so it was great.”

“Family times are special. I love babies. I bet they smelled delicious.”

He chuckled. “Not so much, but it was good to get away. I’d gone twelve months without a break. I hadn’t realized how burned-out I was.”

“Did you and Norman have a good relationship?”

Mitch hesitated at her sudden change of subject. “His depression was a problem when I was younger. I didn’t understand how broken he was and took it personally. Some weekends he wouldn’t come out of his room—not even to wave me off when I left on a Sunday. He put my mother through a lot, especially after I was born. I found it hard to forgive him for that.”

“So, you’re close to your mother?”

“Very. And Frank, my stepfather. I had nothing to do with Norman until I was sixteen. He called Mum out of the blue to ask if we could meet. I stayed for a few hours at first, and as I got to know him better, overnight. I hated those visits—that musty cottage full of books and old shit. But his link to my late father was the driving force, and in time, we relaxed around one another. The year I turned eighteen, I lived at Lime Tree all summer.”

Tayla smiled. She’d always wondered about his relationship with Norman.

“How old were you when your parents bought Cherry Grove?” he asked.

“Fifteen. We lived in town before that. Dad worked as a produce buyer for Fieldmans. It was Mum who wanted to buy the orchard. Norman didn’t want me to visit when you were there. He’d say, ‘The boy’s coming this weekend, so best you stay away.’”

“He always called me ‘the boy.’” Mitch chuckled. “He was a grumpy old bastard, wasn’t he?”

Tayla had never attached the word ‘bastard’ to Norman. “Misunderstood is maybe a better word.”

Mitch shrugged. “Maybe. Still, when my Great-uncle Ken toldme about the conditions of his will, I was pissed off. Don’t get me wrong. I loved Norman in my own way, but I still can’t condone his treatment of Mum. The idea of a fake marriage to manipulate his conditions was a last-ditch effort to play him at his own game.”

Even though she’d seen his vulnerable side after Norman passed away, Mitch’s honesty now surprised her. He’d been kind to her in the days after Norman’s death—offering books and records from his grandfather’s collections, and asking questions about her relationship with the older man. And as he’d helped carry the coffin down the aisle of St Stephen’s Presbyterian church, over eight years ago now, he’d looked directly at her, his eyes brimming with tears.

All the same, her younger self had been scared stiff of him. This large man, with his movie star good looks and beautiful, kind eyes, who’d later seen her as an opportunist unworthy of Norman’s bequest.

“And you know what’s funny?” His words dragged her back to the present. Why did he find everything so amusing?

“No, what?”

“On a good day, if I’d told him I’d contemplated a fake marriage to get the money, he would’ve patted me on the back, called me resourceful, and then chuckled about it.”

Tayla smiled at the portrayal of Norman in a good mood. “He loved that word. Resourceful.” She turned to face him, the confines of the Hilux feeling like a confessional. “What happened to the girl you were going to marry?”

He leaned his head back against the window. “She made a choice I couldn’t condone.”

“Are you still friends?”

He looked away. “Superficially. But betrayal has its own agenda when it comes to exes being friends.”

Tayla agreed. She had no desire to be friends with Hayden. Ever. “Right. I’d better go inside. Thanks for the ride.”

There was a stillness to him now, something she hadn’t seenbefore. Like he didn’t want to leave. And if she were honest, she didn’t want him to either.

“Thanks for the ear,” Mitch said. “Apart from Ken, you’re the only person who knew Norman as well as I did. It’s been good to talk about him.”

“He was very kind to me.”

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