Page 52 of Once Upon a Thyme
Zeb stood at my shoulder. ‘Tallie?’
My brain was full of words that wouldn’t come out.Drunk. Money. I wanted to take you. Better if I stayed away.Then images of a magazine photo shoot, Tessa holding a bouquet of herbs. Rooms decorated with the overblown flowers of the mallow, the tight orderliness of lavender, the wide plates of yarrow.
‘I am in so much trouble,’ I said finally and to Zeb’s obvious relief. ‘I broke Ollie’s tea mug.’
16
The room was warm, even though the window was open to let the moonlight in to cover the bed.
Eventually Zeb spoke. ‘I feel as though I’ve taken advantage of your trauma.’
I rolled further into his embrace. ‘You didn’t. Honestly.’
‘But it…’
‘Was something I wanted to do. Okay, maybe it took a bit of shock to get me over the hump, so to speak, but I wanted it, Zeb. Never doubt that.’
His long arms were around me, his legs entwined with mine. We were sticky and breathless and it had been surprisingly good for an unplanned event. Zeb had turned out to be an intuitive lover with a great line in improvisation.
‘But you’re not in your right mind, are you? After a revelation like that?’
‘If I weren’t in my right mind, do you think I could have come up with the idea of doing the decorations for Mika’s wedding?’ I wriggled against him. Even his smell was familiar. I wondered for a moment if I were searching for something with Zeb, a constant who didn’t lie to me, but pushed the thought away. It was too soon to be examining ideas like that.
‘True. True.’ He stroked my hair, a gentle movement which disturbed the still air in my bedroom. ‘It’s a great idea and a fabulous move for Drycott. You have surprising depths, Tallie.’
‘Which I feel have been well plumbed now.’
He laughed. ‘Thank you for that.’
We lay and breathed for a moment. It hadn’t just been my depths that he’d found surprising, my tattoo had astonished him too. His unexpected tenderness and ability in bed had made me see him in a new light. Zeb wasn’t just the rather sweet, floundering in life lanky-limbed pig carer, he had a capability and a certainty that I was quite sure would come through more in real life now he’d found his ‘place’.
‘Did you know? About my mother?’ I whispered the words drowsily.
‘I had my suspicions. That’s why I asked if you ever checked her cupboards. There was an empty vodka bottle under the sink, when we were round there yesterday. I’d already thought by then – an illness that she hasn’t had investigated, that makes her take to her bed with such regularity, sounded like something she didn’twantinvestigated.’
‘And Granny knew. They both kept it from me. My mother, the drunk. Oh!’ I half sat up against his shoulder. ‘No wonder I went to a fee-paying school out of area. They wouldn’t have wanted the chance of me hearing any rumours about her.’
‘And Simon sent the money for your education. She couldn’t really get away with spending that on drink. Or, maybe she could have done, but she didn’t. She wanted the best for you. Tallie.’
‘She kept that fact well hidden too,’ I muttered. I was too riled up to sleep. ‘Everyone has been lying to me, Zeb. All my life.’
‘Which is why they taught you not to ask questions.’
‘It’s obvious why, now isn’t it. “Your father is dead,” it’s quite hard to think of many questions about that, other than ‘how?’ And “rushing to your birthday party”? It’s almost as though they wanted me to feel guilty from day one.’
‘I’m sure it wasn’t like that.’ I could feel Zeb’s fringe tickling the skin along my spine.
‘Howsure?’ I turned suddenly to face him.
‘Okay, not that sure.’
I lay back down again, but still couldn’t sleep. Beside me, Zeb’s breathing slowed into a drowsy rhythm, but that relaxation eluded me.Everyone had lied. Mum and Granny, and I suspected that most of the village who asked after Mum’s health with such solicitude, knew too. They had known Amanda Fisher all her life. But they’d knownmeall my life too! Didn’t anyone owe me the truth?
Careful not to disturb Zeb, I got out of bed and went downstairs. There was only one way this ended, and that was up to me. It wouldn’t be an end, of course, more like the beginning of a whole new chapter, but I had to be the one to turn the page. Otherwise we’d all just carry on in this weird, stunted life.
‘Granny, you could have said something,’ I muttered to the rumpled old arm chair as I pulled my gardening coat off the hook on the back door. ‘You could have explained, I would have understood.’
But really, how could she? She’d had to side with her daughter; had to watch her only child drinking herself into incapability and leaving her own child to fend for herself. No wonder Granny had taken me under her wing. She’d understood that if she hadn’t, I would have had nothing. After all, she’d agreed to have Mum come to live with her so she could help raise me, as an alternative to my father having custody.
