Page 18 of The Wishing Tree Beside the Shor
He’s got a real little den up here. The canopy of tarpaulin to one side is like a tent to keep his stuff dry, and a sleeping bag is opened out across the middle of the trunk, and a couple of fleece blankets, one mussed up like it was pushed off in a hurry, along with a book open face-down. ‘Were you trying to get to sleep?’
‘Nah.’ He stops rifling through my backpack long enough to glance at me. ‘You know me, I never could sleep at this time of night.’ He holds up the Tupperware container he’s got out. ‘Did you make these?’
‘No.’ I decide to be honest. For a change. ‘My dad did.’
‘Aww, Dennis always was an incredible cook. I used to love him sending lunch in for me. When Mum and Dad were at the hospital, it was often the only real food I ate all day. How is he? I never see him around these days.’
‘No. He’s …’ I don’t know. What have I become that I don’t even know how my own father is? ‘I don’t think he goes out much. Cher said something the other night and I haven’t got to the bottom of it yet.’
‘You should bring him down here. Get him involved in the protest. Cynthia was asking about him after you left this afternoon. Apparently they used to work together? She hasfondmemories of him.’
‘Does she now?’ I waggle my eyebrows and he laughs. ‘Imagine havingfondmemories of someone you used to work with.’ I don’t know what it is about the dark that makes me braver, but the intensity in his eyes is dulled by the night and I feel less uptight than I did earlier.
‘No, I can’t imagine that at all,’ he says, deadpan, with his mouth full as he shovels pasta into it. ‘Seriously, Fee. I’m glad you came back.’
I’m not sure if he means to Lemmon Cove or tonight.
‘Sorry if I was weird earlier,’ he carries on. ‘Seeing you again was like being hit by a low-flying spaceship. The shock did something to me. Most of this afternoon is a blur. I can’t remember what I said, but I probably embarrassed myself.’
‘I feel exactly the same.’
‘But it’s a good spaceship, right? I mean, I’m ecstatic to see you again.’
It makes me go hot and red all over. Only Ryan could sort spaceships into good and bad categories.
‘The whole of today feels like some fuzzy dream. Ever since you went home, I’ve been going over everything I said and trying to remember what I said andshouldn’thave, and what I didn’t say andshouldhave.’
I feel exactly the same about that too. It’s kind of good that we’re on the same page, and I feel better if he feels even half as awkward and shocked as I felt when I saw him this morning.
‘And I’m glad you came back tonight too,’ he says, unintentionally clarifying my earlier question. ‘We couldn’t talk properly earlier, not with everyone milling about, waiting to snaffle up crumbs of gossip. And just so you know, I was grilledmercilesslyafter you left.’
I giggle. ‘They’re certainly an interesting bunch.’
‘That’s one way to put it.’ He laughs but the fondness in his voice is unmistakable.
‘I saw what Tonya’s been posting on Twitter,’ I say. ‘I didn’t know you’d be here. I wouldn’t have come if I had.’
He stops with the fork halfway to his mouth in mid-air. ‘Why on earth not?’
Does he really not know?
‘Because of the …’ I rethink and realise that reminding him of the way things ended isnota good idea. ‘Because it’s been so long, I guess.’
‘I know. I thought you were going to come back and visit meallthe time. I missed you.’
Again, I can’t help wondering if hereallydoesn’t know why I didn’t. Yes, we’d promised to keep in touch, but then I kissed him and he made it clear he wasn’t interested. I didn’t think he’d ever want to hear from me again.
The new job had been stressful and I was out of my depth. I’d known it was a mistake from the first day, and most nights there was nothing I wanted more than to hear Ryan’s low Welsh accent and reassuring words, but howcouldI breezily pick up the phone and pretend nothing had happened?
‘You knew where I lived.’ My voice comes out tetchy, but it’s almost like he’s forgotten an event that changed my life, andnotfor the better. ‘You had my number. You didn’t keep in touch either.’
‘I didn’t think you’d want to see me again.’
I didn’t thinkhe’dwant to seemeagain. Silence hangs in the air between us, until the sheep starts snoring and makes us both burst into laughter.
‘You did say she was a comedic sheep.’ I’m grateful to Baaabra Streisand for her flawless timing, a perfect cue to change the subject. ‘I can’t believe you’re sleeping here.’
‘Too uncomfy for your refined tastes these days? Used to sleeping on posh beds from Harrods? The Fee I knew would’ve loved this. A hideaway in a tree, being part of nature …’
