Page 12 of The Wishing Tree Beside the Shor
‘I, um …’
‘No wonder you knew the cherry pitter.’ Alys finishes her text before I have a chance to think up a response to his question. ‘I’m going to come to you for all my “Guess the Gadget” needs.’
Oh no. I’m going to have to start studying up on household appliances. They’re going to expect me to know whateverythingis now. Let’s hope they don’t play “Guess the Gadget” too often.
‘Wow.’ Ryan runs his hand through his hair yet again. ‘Of all the things I imagined you doing now, that was absolutely thelastone.’
Me too. Trust me on that. Although the thought that he’s imagined me doing anything is nice. I thought he’d have tried to erase every memory of me from his mind. ‘What about you?’
‘Nothing as interesting as cooking for the rich and famous. I do this and that. Odd jobs around the area. And I—’
‘There’snothingRyan can’t fix,’ Ffion interrupts. ‘He unblocked my loo last year and it’s been working like a charm ever since. Seaview Heights has got him on a retainer to fix all problems.’
‘Thanks, Ffion, I really wanted the person I haven’t seen for fifteen years to think of me up to my knees in the sewage tank.’
‘Glad to be of service.’ Ffion salutes him as his sarcasm goes over her head, but I can’t help giggling.
‘The level of excitement in this village hasn’t changed then?’
‘What a daythatone was. I’m not sure I’ve ever recovered.’
I can’t get my head around him still being here. It’s the opposite of what Ryan wanted to do with his life. Not that I can talk. Collecting Harrison’s dry-cleaning wasn’t exactly my greatest ambition either.
The nurse who came out sets the tray down on the flowerbed wall, and the elderly gang start hobbling across for cakes and cuppas, leaving me alone with Ryan.
‘And I own that over there,’ he carries on like this is not an unusual situation to be in. He lifts a muscular forearm and points across the hedge.
I follow his finger and push myself up on tiptoes because I must be missing something. All I can see is the campsite, fields and fields of static caravans, campervans, and tents, all spread out with little amenities buildings at the edge of each field.
Hecannotmean the campsite.
I glance back at him. He doesn’t appear to be joking.
‘You’rethe youngster?’ I say without thinking.
He looks confused.
I amterribleat this. ‘I overheard some village gossip,’ I say quickly. Village gossip is a believable excuse foranythingin this village. ‘Said a youngster was running the protest and stirring up all the old ’uns.’
He laughs a gentle rumble of a laugh. ‘I’m only a youngster by comparison to that lot. And I assure you, it’sthemstirringmeup. This was all their idea. I’m just helping out because, well, the youngest of ’em is seventy-seven, they can’t be spending hours chained to a tree every day, and if we leave the site unoccupied, those underhanded property developers are going to prevent us getting back in.’
I try to ignore how sick that makes me feel, and pretend that Ihaven’tthought about him on every birthday that’s passed. I know he’s thirty-eight now, three and a bit years older than me, and definitely not a youngster. From Harrison’s description, I was expecting a teenager to swagger in wearing a black mask with a skull on it and a can of spray paint in one hand. He isnothinglike the protest leader I was expecting, andnothinglike the kind of person who’s going to give this up in exchange for the cash Harrison expects me to throw at him. And how can Inow?
Ryan loved this place, especially that tree. There is nothing of monetary value that could persuade him to let it go. He’s made it clear what he thinks of the company I work for, and I’ve told him I’m a chef. How am I ever going toun-lie this lie I’ve told? And if there’s one thing I know about Ryan Sullivan, it’s that when he commits to something, henevergives up.
‘Occupy the sycamore tree!’ He shouts and punches a fist in the air, and the group of old ’uns return the cry with mouthfuls of cake being spat everywhere and tea being dribbled out. Alys wallops Mr Barley for spilling crumbs on her skirt.
He grins and starts back down the path towards the tree. ‘C’mon, let me show you my humble abode.’
I hesitate. Is going to the tree with Ryan a good idea? After all, it is theexactspot where I kissed him. The very place I last saw him. Do I really want to stand under those branches with him again? I glance at the care home residents. Someone’s produced a packet of biscuits and now they’re having an argument about which biscuits the Queen would prefer if she eats biscuits. She’s British – it would be a crime if shedidn’teat biscuits. Judging by the heated arguments about the merits of Rich Tea versus Arrowroots, they’re going to be occupied for a while.
I need to make an excuse and get out of here. Go and phone Harrison and tell him I’m on the next train back to London, no matter what. This can’t continue now, not with Ryan here.
Chapter 4
Ryan must take my hesitation as wariness of the brambles because once he’s picked the chain up and reattached it around his waist, he turns back and holds his hand out to me. ‘It’s not as bad as it looks, honest.’
It takes me a moment to realise he’s talking about the narrow path towards the tree. My brain has a conniption again because something possesses me to slip my hand into his.
