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Authors: Julia Williams

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She hadn’t, of course, so blinded by fury had she been that he’d taken Emily’s part and wasn’t prepared to listen to her side of the story. And later on she’d accused him of being an old-fashioned prig who couldn’t let his hair down. He had been wrong and overreacted, but then so had she. It took two to make an argument, but maybe it only needed one of them to mend it.

Without stopping to consider what she was doing, Kezzie sat down and wrote Richard a letter.

12 The Lane
Heartsease
Sussex

Dear Rich
,

I know you said you didn’t want to hear from me again. And I’ve tried, really tried to forget you, but I find I can’t
.
If you don’t reply I’ll try and understand, but I think I know now that a part of me will never be over you. I think we had something good going back there, and I’ll regret it to my dying day if I don’t try and get you back.

So I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I was stupid enough to have those muffins in the house when Emily came round, and I’m sorry that I didn’t realize she’d drunk my vodka. But most of all I’m sorry for having not understood why you were so angry. I was cross with you for not taking my part. I thought you were overreacting, and I forgot that you have a duty to Emily first.

It seems silly for us to have fallen out over this. Maybe there’s no way we can get back to where we were, but I do know that I miss you with every fibre of my being. If I never see you again, my life will be much the poorer.

Love always,
Kezziexx

She addressed the envelope, sealed it, and put a stamp on it. She went to the post box at the end of the Lane and posted it before she could change her mind. It might not make any difference, but at least she could say she’d tried.

Lily continues heartbroken over Harry’s death
, Edward wrote in his diary in the spring of 1919.
All this long winter she has stayed indoors, no longer working at the hospital, though lord knows they need the help. She shuts herself away, poring over Harry’s letters, sitting in his room, touching his clothes, sometimes sleeping in his bed. I cannot reach her. And even now, as the spring returns and the crocuses and daffodils begin to emerge in the garden, I cannot persuade her to come and spend time with me there. The magic healing properties of our garden seem to be no cure for this.

Even the return of Connie, to whom Lily now clung in a way she had never previously done, did nothing to help. Neither did the news, welcomed by Edward, but barely acknowledged by Lily, that Connie was to marry the doctor she had met in France, a young man called James Chandler, make any difference. In vain Edward tried to lighten Lily’s mood, encouraging her to start preparing for the wedding, but she would not be stirred.
It is worse than the terrible time when she lost the babies
, wrote Edward.
I fear she is lost to me forever, locked in a grief so private and painful, even I cannot share it.

As spring turned into summer, Edward’s hopes that Lily’s
spirits would lift a little faded. He persuaded her sometimes to come and sit in the knot garden with her sketchbook, but more often than not he would come upon her sitting there, staring out across the valley, the paper barely marked. It was as if she had retreated into herself.

James was now a frequent visitor, and a great favourite with all in the house. He was eminently suited to his work as a doctor, with his kindly gentle manner. Having been the head of his own house for some time, his father having died young, he showed great sensitivity towards Lily, admonishing Connie for her frequent impatience with her mother. ‘We are not all able to bear the pains of the world as well as you,’ he would say, and he would go out of his way to be even more solicitous to Lily. He was the only person who could occasionally make Lily smile, and for that Edward was grateful.

He was pleased, too, that Tilly got on so well with her future brother-in-law. Tilly, whose youth had been blighted by war and suffering, deserved some fun now, Edward felt, and James certainly made her laugh and good naturedly let her join in expeditions with him and Connie. Tilly for her part was very taken with him, stating boldly to Connie when she first brought James home, ‘I do declare you’ve picked a fine one there.’ Connie had rebuked her for cheekiness, but Edward had watched with pleasure the way Tilly and James had become such good friends in a relatively short space of time – he hoped that James would in some way replace the much loved older brother that Tilly still grieved for. It eased his aching heart to think that although they had lost Harry, there was still a future for Connie, and in time, Tilly.

But then a day came when the last remaining foundations of his comfortable happy family life fell away. Edward had been out for the afternoon, and come home to find the
house deserted. Lily was sleeping in Harry’s room, and he didn’t like to disturb her. Of his daughters there was no sign. Thinking that they were probably in the knot garden, Edward went down there to find them. He pushed open the garden gate, where he stopped in mute horror. There on the iron seat, where he and Lily had sat so many many times, was James, locked in a passionate embrace with his youngest daughter.

‘Tilly!’ He had never been angrier with his youngest daughter. How could she betray her sister in this way?

Tilly pulled herself away from James’ embrace in horror.

‘Father, I—’ She blushed scarlet, gathered her skirts up and said, ‘Sorry,’ before fleeing up the garden.

‘I suggest you leave, sir,’ Edward told James in icy tones. ‘You are no longer welcome in my house.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said James. ‘This is my fault, not Tilly’s. We didn’t mean it to happen, and we don’t want to hurt anyone. But we’ve fallen in love.’

‘I don’t wish to hear it,’ said Edward, in no mood to thaw, ‘please, I want you to leave now.’

As he watched James leave, Edward looked around at the garden he’d created. He’d fashioned it from love, with so much hope for the future. Over the years it had been a place of joy and comfort, through good and bad times. And this was the darkest of times, and now all his foolish hopes lay in ruin and despair. He felt his garden was mocking him. What was he going to tell his beloved Connie? For the second time in her life, she was going to have her heart broken.

‘So, have you been to Wimbledon before?’ asked Lauren, as they boarded the Waterloo train at Heartsease.

‘Once,’ said Kezzie. ‘I was fifteen and me and my mates bunked off school and camped out on the pavement. It was fabulous. We got to see Sampras and Henman. What about you?’

‘Nope,’ said Lauren, ‘but I’ve always wanted to. I can’t believe I’m here, or that Troy has agreed to babysit.’

‘He
is
their dad,’ said Kezzie. ‘And they are at school most of the day.’

‘I know,’ said Lauren, ‘but since the children were born, I’ve never had a whole day away from them up in London. I adore them, but I could really do with a break. I’m so excited about today, I feel like I’m on holiday.’

‘And so you should,’ said Kezzie. ‘You’re insanely responsible for someone your age.’

‘Hmm, well, I have a lot of responsibility,’ said Lauren. ‘But it is nice to have some time out.’

The journey into London was relatively swift, and they changed at Clapham Junction and were on their way to Wimbledon in record time.

It was a hot June day, and the crowds piling out of the underground at Southfields were clearly going the same way.

‘This is fab,’ said Kezzie, as they marched up to the gates with their tickets. ‘No queuing for hours,
and
we have seats on Centre Court. Brilliant. Last time I was here I spent most of the day on Henman Hill, and only sneaked onto Centre Court at the end.’

They had arrived before play started and spent an hour or so just soaking up the atmosphere, watching some of the lesser-known players slugging it out on the outer courts, before finally taking their places on Centre Court, where Nadal was playing an unknown. They’d missed seeing Murray, who’d got through his match fairly easily the previous day. Kezzie wasn’t sure if she was pleased or sorry. At least it cut down on the nerves factor.

The tennis they did see was fast and furious, and she and Lauren were on their feet by the end of a tense four setter, which Nadal won.

‘Time for a break,’ said Kezzie, in the pause before the next match was due to start. ‘Do you need anything?’

‘No, I’m OK here for a minute,’ said Lauren. ‘I’m just going to text Troy to check everything’s OK at home.’

‘I’ll get us ice cream,’ said Kezzie, and headed out towards the loos. She was just walking down the corridor underneath Centre Court when she stopped suddenly. There ahead of her in an animated conversation with a pretty young woman was – could it really be? –
Richard.
Oh my God. It couldn’t possibly be. Kezzie felt the ground melt beneath her. She’d had no reply from her insanely stupid spur of the moment letter, not that she’d been expecting one, so Richard clearly didn’t want to put things right. He was the last person she wanted to see.

Richard looked up and saw her before she could make a bolt for it. She felt as if she was fixed to the ground; trapped like a rabbit in the headlights.

Richard made an excuse to his companion and came towards her.

Kezzie froze to the spot. Her heart was hammering, and her stomach was in knots. Fear made her brazen.

‘I see you haven’t wasted any time,’ she nodded at Richard’s companion.


Kezzie!
’ Richard said in exasperation.

‘So, she is the new woman in your life?’

‘Don’t be daft. She’s my new secretary.’

‘Oh.’ Maybe it was the secretary who’d answered Richard’s phone the day she’d rung him. Kezzie’s confidence drained away. This wasn’t how she wanted things to go. ‘So you haven’t replaced me then?’

A slight smile played on Richard’s lips, and a sudden heartbeat of desire shot through Kezzie. God she missed him. Standing so tantalizingly close to him made her realize just how much.

‘As if I could replace you,’ he said, and Kezzie melted into a puddle.

‘Nor me, you,’ whispered Kezzie.

They looked at each other for a long time, and a sense of sadness came over Kezzie. Richard hadn’t replied to her letter. The past was the past, what they once had was gone forever.

‘How are you?’ Richard said eventually.

‘Fine,’ said Kezzie. ‘Brilliant in fact. You?’

‘Great,’ said Richard, his hearty smile not quite reaching his eyes.

‘Well, see you then?’ said Kezzie, unable to cope with stringing out the situation any longer.

‘How do I get in touch?’ he called after her, to her surprise.

‘If you’d bothered to read my letter, you’d know,’ she said.

‘Letter?’ Richard sounded puzzled.

‘The one I sent you,’ she said, and walked away without daring to turn and look back. She thought Richard might
have called her name, but she ignored him and carried on walking.

 

Joel was having a frantically busy day at work. He’d already sat through two difficult meetings in which they’d managed to save the charity plenty of money, but at a huge cost to their service users. Services were definitely having to go, and Joel didn’t feel good about it. He was beginning to feel like the Jonah of the organization, whom everyone distrusted. It wasn’t a great position to be in. At this rate it was going to be a pleasure to get home, which wasn’t always how he felt. He was grateful to Eileen for looking after Sam for him. He stupidly hadn’t thought through the implications of giving Lauren a day off, and though she’d offered Troy’s help, he wasn’t too keen on that idea. In the end, Eileen had volunteered, saying she owed him for getting New Horizons to come and play at the fete.

It was one of those sunny days in the summer, when it felt criminal to be at work. The office fan was working at full stretch, but all it seemed to do was fan hot air around. All the windows were open, but it still felt stuffy, and the room was full of the smell of stale sweat. Joel cursed the workload that meant he had been unable to go out for the day too.

He rang Eileen at lunchtime to see how she was getting on.

‘Oh fine,’ she said. ‘Sam’s having a lovely time, particularly as we’ve got Izzie here.’

‘What’s Izzie doing there?’

‘The school rang,’ said Eileen. ‘She’s got a bit of a cough and they sent her home.’

‘Why couldn’t Troy have her?’ said Joel.

‘They couldn’t get hold of him or Lauren,’ said Eileen,
‘and I’m one of Lauren’s emergency contact numbers. I don’t mind, Izzie’s no trouble at all.’

Joel snorted. ‘Well, don’t let Troy take advantage of you.’

‘I’m sure he’ll be back soon,’ said Eileen, ‘he still has to pick Immie up from school.’

Joel put the phone down and wondered if Lauren knew that Izzie was at home. He toyed with ringing her – but what could he say? Your boyfriend seems to have gone AWOL? – and decided not to. It wasn’t really any of his business. He turned his attention to what he was supposed to be doing and forgot all about it.

At two thirty, Eileen rang him.

‘Joel,’ she said, sounding a bit tense, ‘do you have Lauren’s number? I seem to have lost it. Only I still can’t get hold of Troy, and I think Izzie is getting worse. Her chest seems very tight, and she’s coughing quite a lot. I’m not even sure if she has a puffer.’

Joel thought for a minute, and then he remembered seeing Lauren administer Ventolin the previous winter.

‘I’m pretty sure she does have a puffer,’ he said. ‘Do you have spare keys to Lauren’s place?’

‘No, sorry.’

‘I guess you’ll have to keep trying Troy,’ said Joel. ‘But call the doctor if Izzie gets worse. Look, why don’t I try to finish a bit early? I’ll see if I can take some work home with me. At least relieve you of Sam.’

He gave her Lauren’s mobile number and then started to clear his desk. Luckily things seemed to be calming down a bit. He called through to his assistant and told her what was happening. He felt a bit guilty about leaving so early in the day, but it wasn’t as though he did this often. And this was an emergency. Lauren needed him. Even if she didn’t know it yet.

 

The afternoon had turned sweltering, and Kezzie and Lauren were both wilting in the heat. They’d got to the point they were pouring water on their heads to cool down.

‘I can’t believe how much water I’ve drunk today,’ said Kezzie. ‘And yet I still feel thirsty.’

‘We’re going to look like lobsters tomorrow,’ laughed Lauren, who had spent most of the day covering her fair skin up with Factor 50, but she didn’t think it would be enough to stop her burning. ‘But it’s been worth it.’

‘Apart from meeting Richard, it’s been a great day,’ agreed Kezzie.

‘Damn,’ Lauren had reached into her bag to check her mobile. ‘I forgot to turn my phone back on after the match. Shit. I’ve missed a couple of calls from school. And Eileen by the looks of it.’

She felt the blood drain from her face. The school never rang. She thought back to this morning when she’d noticed that Izzie had a very slight scratchy cough, which was sometimes, though not always, a precursor to an asthma attack. She got through to the school first. ‘She’s where? Thank you so much for letting me know.’ Lauren turned to Kezzie, who was looking questioningly at her. ‘It’s Izzie, she’s ill.’ She rang Eileen. ‘You’re where? She’s what? Oh my God, Eileen, where’s Troy? Don’t worry, I’m on my way.’

She turned her phone off, feeling a sick panic in her stomach.
Should never have left them. Should never have left them
, pounded in her head. First sign of trouble and no sign of Troy. How could he do this to her? But that anger was wiped out with worry about Izzie. Lauren cursed the fact she was so far away from home.

‘What’s going on?’ said Kezzie.

‘Izzie, having an asthma attack,’ said Lauren. ‘Troy’s disappeared and Eileen’s with her at the doctor’s now. Bloody
hell. The only time I’ve gone so far away and this has to happen.’

She started gathering her things together.

‘I’m so sorry, Kezzie, but I’m going to have to go. Please don’t feel you have to leave too.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ said Kezzie. ‘Of course I’ll come with you, you can’t go alone.’

They got up and raced to the exit. Suddenly Wimbledon seemed vast, and the crowds, which had excited Lauren on arrival, seemed hostile and threatening. The walk back to Southfields seemed longer than she’d remembered; the wait for a tube train to take them back to Wimbledon, interminable.

Lauren tried not to clock watch, and resisted the urge to ring Eileen every five minutes, but it was difficult. She was trying to stay calm, but her heart was pounding. Izzie’s asthma attacks, though not frequent, were swift and sudden, and she could go from being relatively well to going downhill really quickly.

‘If only I’d paid more attention to her cough,’ said Lauren. ‘I should never have come.’

‘You weren’t to know,’ said Kezzie. ‘Sod’s law would have meant she’d be fine if you had stayed at home.’

‘I suppose,’ said Lauren, drumming her fingers on the train window, as they limped slowly into Wimbledon station. ‘I just feel really guilty.’

‘Don’t,’ said Kezzie. ‘Come on, we’re getting there as fast as we can.’

They were lucky with their connections at Wimbledon and Clapham Junction, and found themselves approaching Heartsease just over an hour after Eileen had called.

Lauren called Troy again and got no reply. By now she was frantic with worry. Luckily there was a cab in the cab rank and she and Kezzie dived in and asked him to get
home as quickly as possible. On hearing it was an emergency the cabbie drove as fast as he could. When Lauren got out, he said, ‘I’ll wait here for a minute, in case you need me to take you to the hospital.’

Hospital. Lauren hadn’t even thought of that.

‘Oh, thanks,’ she said in surprise.

‘I’ve got two asthmatic kids myself,’ said the cabbie, by way of explanation. ‘I know what it’s like.’

Lauren raced into the house, where she found Troy, and a very pale and breathless Izzie lying forlornly on the sofa. She knew instantly that hospital was where they were heading.

Troy got up, looking panicked and helpless.

‘You took your time,’ he said. ‘Doc says she’s got to go to hospital if she gets worse.’

‘Well, why on earth didn’t you take her?’ said Lauren. ‘You can’t muck around with a kid having an asthma attack. You should have taken her straight there!’

‘I thought she’d be better with you,’ said Troy. ‘When Eileen called me, I just didn’t know what to do. I panicked, I’m sorry.’

‘Right,’ said Lauren, ‘she needs a bag. And her puffer. You get the car ready. We’ll be in the hospital in no time.’

‘Woah,’ said Troy, ‘I don’t do hospitals.’

‘Troy! She’s your daughter,’ said Lauren, ‘it goes with the territory. You could at least drop us off and stay with Immie.’

She looked around. ‘Hang on, where is Immie?’

‘Eileen’s got her,’ said Troy. ‘I couldn’t cope with two of them. You know.’

‘No,’ said Lauren, ‘I don’t know. You have to get Immie, while I sort Izzie out.’

‘This is just too much,’ said Troy. ‘I’m sorry, I just can’t do this.’

And with that he walked out of the house.

‘What?’ Lauren was stunned, but she didn’t have time to react to Troy’s betrayal; concern for Izzie overrode any other feeling. ‘Shit, I can’t leave Immie with Eileen forever. I don’t know what to do.’

‘If you give me your house keys, I’ll go and get Immie from Eileen’s, if you like,’ said Kezzie.

‘Oh, would you?’ Lauren was so grateful. ‘Thanks. And could you run out and tell that cabbie I do need him, while I grab the things for Izzie.’

Lauren went into default emergency mode, picking up stuff she thought Izzie might need, and carrying her child to the taxi.

As the taxi sped off, she saw Troy walking down to the pub. He’d let her down again. But she hadn’t got time to think about that right now. All that really mattered was Izzie.

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