Page 15 of The Wishing Tree Beside the Shor
Oh, God. Idowant to help, but genuinely.Notbecause I’m supposed to be infiltrating the protest for Landoperty Developments. He’s right – the thought of anyone destroying this tree is unimaginable. Being here again has unfurled the permanent tightness that sits on my chest as I rush through London on whatever wild goose chase Harrison has sent me on – occasionally for something even more impossible than actual wild geese – and I don’t want to walk away. ‘Er, yes. Yes I did.’
The sunlight hits his face, dappled through the branches, and it seems to make him physically brighten up. ‘Good, because you always made me believe in the impossible, Fee, and I feel like we can succeed with you here.’
‘I’m in.’ I try not to show my uneasiness through my smile.
This is a recipe for disaster. Andthatis theonlything I’m adept at cooking.
Chapter 5
‘I can’t do this. I’m coming back to the office.’ I’m in Dad’s garden that evening, pacing up and down the neat lawn, while Harrison rabbits on about the hotel in my ear. I’ve got my sensible head back on – the one without Ryan Sullivan’s cologne and hot muscular body dulling its senses and making it say stupid things like I’m staying and I’d be happy to help. I mean, Idowant to help, but it’s the opposite of what my job is supposed to be.
‘Are you indeed?’ Harrison sounds as overjoyed by my plan as he would be at the prospect of a dental check-up.
‘I know the area too well,’ I say into the phone, pinching the bridge of my nose with my other hand. ‘I know the guy leading it.’
I also know I shouldn’t have said that.
‘Oh, that’s fantastic. An “in”. A way to get your foot in the door. I told you this was a good plan. Have you had a chance to find out what he wants yet? I’m prepared to be generous with the budget.’
I barely contain a snort at the idea. ‘He wouldnotbe receptive to that plan.’
‘Well, as you know him, you’ll have an easy way of wheedling out what he really wants. Enough money for a nice car, bit of extra land for his business, et cetera. No man would turn down that sort of prize in exchange for staying chained to a tree. We men are practical creatures and no tree is worth a substantial amount of money, especially to small village folk like that, who’ve probably never even seen a Lamborghini before, never mind had a chance to own one …’
I prickle at the insinuation that someone’s worth is based on what car they drive or that people in little villages are somehow different or lesser than Harrison’s millionaire cronies.
‘Don’t eventhinkof coming back yet, Felicity. If this chap won’t give up, start on the old folks. Offer ’em all new mobility scooters or something. If they give up and the Tree Idiot is on his own, he’ll soon walk away with his tail between his legs.’
I want to tell him about Ryan Sullivan, the man whoneverunderstood the meaning of the words “give up”. The man who would never be convinced that a plant was dead, even when it was shrivelled up, brown, and crisp in front of him. You could see the sycamore tree from the top of the hill where Sullivan’s Seeds and Plant Nursery was. Birds could be heard chirruping for miles, and as the leaves turned from green to yellow, we’d watch it together, mapping the arrival of autumn as the tips of each leaf changed and autumnal colours gradually crept along each branch. It was inconceivable that someday the tree might not be there. It’s as much a part of Lemmon Cove as the beaches or the cliffs themselves.
‘Some things are worth more than money,’ I say eventually, hoping I sound more confident than my stuttery voice suggests.
‘Everyone has a price, Felicity. It’s up to you to find it. Or you’llfindyourself in the queue for the job centre next week.’
‘That’s not fair. My whole career isn’t based on this one job,’ I say. ‘I’ve been working hard for ages. You can’t fire me if one little thing doesn’t go my way.’
He’s hung up. I pull the phone away from my ear and the dark screen comes back on. Before I even dialled his number, I knew how that conversation was going to go.
Great. Now what?
The idea of staying gives me a little fizzle of excitement, the thought of spending time with Ryan is a thrill I didn’t think I’d ever feel again. I thought he’d hate me for misreading his signals and mistaking his friendship for flirting all those years ago, but he seemed genuinely pleased to see me. And it felt good, I think. But it’s marred by the idea that my job is to put an end to their protest and at some point in theverynear future, I’m going to have to admit where I work and try to persuade Ryan that he’d prefer a new Ferrari than trying to save the wishing tree, which is never going to be the case.
‘Everything okay, Fliss?’ Dad asks when I go back in.
He and Cheryl are still sitting at the table in the living room. He’s made a mixed pepper and lemon pasta salad and we’d just sat down to eat and ofcourseHarrison chose that moment to ring.
‘Fine,’ I say breezily, because this only gets worse if it causes Dad to worry too. ‘Just my boss checking in.’
‘It’s half past seven!’ Cher looks up at the clock on the wall in horror.
‘He works late. A lot.’
‘Don’t tell me you usually work this late too?’ Dad looks worried.
I gulp as I sit back down. ‘Not often, no.’ Lying is becoming a far-too-easy habit lately.
‘Good. I wouldn’t like to think of you having no time for a life outside of work. There must be so many fun things to do in a big city like that. You wanted to live there from the first time you saw the New Year’s Eve fireworks when you were little. It must be a dream come true. The life you always wanted.’
I don’t realise I haven’t answered until they’re both staring at me expectantly. ‘Oh, er, yeah. Great. It’s great.’
