The Paradise Trees (6 page)

Frank was silent for a moment, then he reached out and patted her shoulder awkwardly.

Alicia almost jumped, embarrassed by her sudden outburst.

‘Right. I’ll give you different pills for Bob. And I’ll talk to Margaret again, but you know you don’t actually
need
her consent to put your father into St.
Joe’s. You’re his next of kin and I’ll back you up about this. And Alicia, for heaven’s sake, there’s no way your ex would get custody of Jenny, is there? Not in
Singapore
?’

‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘I don’t think so. It’s just so horrible he’s threatening me like this. Imagine if I lost Jen, she - hell, where is she?
She’s been gone for ages! Jenny?’

Christ, she had been so busy being tired and doing her father’s washing that she had forgotten to check on her daughter.

There was no reply from the bottom of the garden, and Alicia yelled again, aware that Frank was staring at her. But thank heavens, after the second shout there was an answering call and a few
moments later, Jenny and Conker came careering up the garden.

‘Mummy! I found a little fairy clearing, it’s almost exactly a round circle of trees, great big high ones. We were playing a game where I’m a fairy princess, and Conker is my
trusty unicorn and we went all over the galaxy, and the circle of trees is our palace when we’re home and our spaceship when we’re travelling.’

In spite of her fright Alicia felt her lips twitching. She glanced at Frank, and they exchanged grins.

‘Well, your Highness, it’s time for elevenses,’ she said. ‘You’ll have a coffee, won’t you, Frank? I promise I won’t moan too much. You can tell me more
about Sonja, and how you’re finding life in Lower Banford.’

‘Sonja’s having a ball in Paris, she loves the good life,’ he said, following her into the kitchen and settling down at the table, his face bright. ‘They were in
Vancouver before. I’ll give you her email address if you like. As for Lower Banford - well, I’ve just moved into Dave Morton’s old place which was last redecorated when Doctor
Kildare was a boy, so I’ve got a mammoth job in front of me. The practice suite is fine but the house is going to be... a challenge. It’s about the same era as this one.’

Alicia grinned in sympathy. ‘Poor you. Never mind, you can do it little by little.’

‘That’s the idea,’ said Frank. He seemed to be enjoying sitting there drinking coffee with her and Jenny, and Alicia wondered if he had made many friends in the village. When
you weren’t talking to his doctor persona he was really quite shy; maybe he was finding his new life here lonely.

‘Doctor Frank, have you seen Mr Taylor from the pet shop today?’ asked Jenny, and Alicia groaned inwardly. Jen wasn’t going to forget about that kitten.

‘I haven’t, but I’m sure he’ll let you know about the kitten soon,’ said Frank. Alicia managed to catch his eye without Jenny noticing, and pulled a face. He rose
to the occasion straightaway, and Alicia relaxed gratefully as he spoke.

‘Tell me more about your palace in the woods, Princess Jenny,’ he said. ‘It sounds like a very special place indeed.’

Jenny was only too happy to chatter on about life amongst the stars, and Alicia poured him a second cup of coffee. He was very patient, she thought, listening as he asked about Kings and Queens
and spaceships. Her daughter’s face was one big beam, and she stood waving fondly as Frank drove off twenty minutes later.

Alicia had to force herself out of her chair after lunch. There was still the shopping to do, and she was way too tired to face the drive to Merton. Mrs Mullen here I come again.

Jenny chose to stay and help Margaret brush the dog, so Alicia trudged down the lane alone, glad to have a few minutes to herself and resentful that it only was a few minutes and not a couple of
hours. Still, at least she was out of the house and the village was a pretty little place when you weren’t worrying about sleeping pills and voices in your head. It was a pity she
couldn’t enjoy being here. There weren’t many villages like this left, even Upper Banford had mutated into a small town.

At least Frank was around to give her some support. That was the only good thing, actually. Today she felt as if the whole situation was about to rear up and crash back down, flattening them
all. She was working so hard here and nothing was going right. And none of it was her fault.

Her fault. Her mother’s voice echoed through Alicia’s head.
Stop, Bob. It wasn’t her fault.

Alicia stood still, Margaret’s ancient shopping bag clutched in one hand. Something hadn’t been her fault, but what? She’d been with Cathal... and yes, it had happened more or
less right where she was standing, just outside the house where the O’Brians had lived.

The memory was suddenly crystal clear in her mind. She, her parents and Cathal had been walking along here, Cathal had been going home, and he had clapped her shoulder in a friendly goodbye. Not
quite a hug, just a fond gesture from a boy of ten or eleven, which would make her eight or nine. The memories were getting younger.

Her father had been outraged that a boy had touched his daughter. He had grabbed her shoulder and shaken her – that was when Mum spoke – and then he had marched her home and... what?
She could remember him dragging her up the lane and how terrified she had been, but the rest was a blank. What had he done to her? Something ‘bad’, she could feel that in her bones.

There were only a handful of people in the shop, and Alicia wrestled a basket from the pile by the door. Mrs Mullen was busy giving a middle-aged woman a very detailed account of someone
else’s operation while a man waited patiently, his basket on the floor beside him.

Alicia grabbed a family pizza and a lettuce for tonight’s dinner. Maybe tomorrow she’d feel up to an outing to Merton. The man was packing his shopping into an old-fashioned leather
shopper not dissimilar to Margaret’s when Alicia reached the checkout. By the looks of things he was having pasta with cream and bacon sauce for dinner, and Alicia felt slightly ashamed of
her ready-made pizza.

‘Right then, Alicia dear,’ said Mrs Mullen, jabbing at the old-fashioned cash register. Scanners and bar codes obviously hadn’t reached this far north yet. ‘How’s
your Dad today?’

Alicia sighed. ‘Alright, I suppose, but things aren’t going to change for the better,’ she said. ‘It’s just a case of deciding what’s the best way to take
care of him.’

The man leaned towards her. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt, but am I right that you’re Mr Logan’s daughter?’

‘Yes,’ said Alicia, surprised. Gosh, this guy was a real Robert Redford lookalike. Maybe eight years older than she was, he had a full head of red-brown hair and he was tall,
towering above her. He was smiling - he looked kind.

‘Let me introduce myself, I’m Douglas Patton, the head of St. Joseph’s in Middle Banford.’

Alicia felt a broad grin spread over her face. Talk about being in the right place at the right time, this chance encounter in Mrs Mullen’s shop might just make things a whole lot easier.
She shook his outstretched hand. It was warm, and he was holding onto hers for a few seconds longer than was necessary. Which was very interesting... and quite exciting, too.

‘Frank Carter has told me about you and the home,’ she said, stuffing her pizza into the shopping bag. ‘He thinks my father would be better off in St. Joseph’s, and I
feel the same way, but my aunt isn’t happy about it which is why we haven’t been in touch yet.’

He stood holding the shop door open for her, leaving Mrs Mullen staring after them.

‘That’s better,’ he said, when they were standing on the pavement. ‘Anything you say in the shop in the course of the afternoon will have reached Upper Banford by tea
time. At the latest. Mrs Mullen’s contacts, you know.’

Alicia laughed. ‘Oh, I do know. I grew up here. Mrs Mullen’s been gossip-leader since the invention of the wheel. Not that I’ve anything to hide. But thanks anyway.’

‘Frank put your father on our waiting list this week,’ he said. ‘Would you like to see round St. Joe’s by yourself sometime, just unofficially? I’m off today and
tomorrow but I could give you a wee tour on Thursday morning, if you like?’

Alicia stared at him. It was actually a really good idea. She would try very hard to persuade Margaret to come too, but if that didn’t work, she would go by herself.

‘That would be fantastic. I might be able to convince my aunt to come as well. What time would suit you?’

Was she imagining the look of pleasure that crossed his face?

‘Shall we say half past ten? In the entrance hallway?’

He held out his hand again, and Alicia shook, another grin spreading across her face. But maybe she was reading way too much into a couple of handshakes. She didn’t get out enough, that
was the problem. Well, today she’d had coffee with one man and now she’d made a date – of sorts – with another.

She grasped her bag and turned to go. ‘Fantastic. Thanks. See you on Thursday, then.’

He waved, then walked up the street in the opposite direction. Alicia strode homewards, aware that she felt lighter. What an interesting half hour that had been.

The Stranger

The most wonderful thing had happened. He had touched little Helen. A lovely warm shiver ran through him as he recalled the moment.

He switched on the lamp by his armchair and pulled the heavy velvet curtains across the window, shutting the world out. It was beginning to get dark, and here in the stillness of his own home it
was safe to think about the miracle that had occurred. With shaking hands he poured himself a glass of red wine, then sat down slowly, cradling the glass in both hands, watching the ruby liquid
swirl as he raised it to the light.

Such an amazing thing.

He had gone up through the woods late that afternoon, hoping that little Helen might be playing outside again, and she was. In the woods, at the special place. He had talked to her, he had
touched her sweet face, and it had been just the two of them. And oh, she was so lovely. His own Helen herself must have been exactly like that as a little child.

She’d been running round amongst the trees, talking to that stupid enormous dog. He ducked behind a tree to watch her, then crept closer, still carefully concealed, until he could hear her
every word. She was pretending to be a princess in a palace. How perfect she was.

‘Come and sit on your throne, Unicorn Conker,’ she said. ‘We have to wait for the King.’

He hadn’t been able to help himself. He stepped out in front of her and bowed, a low, old-fashioned bow. The dog growled, then barked twice.

‘Your Majesty,’ he said. ‘I am your humble servant, King Oberon. Permit me to wait upon you and the unicorn Conker.’

‘Oh,’ she said, and he could see both puzzlement and fascination in her eyes. ‘Alright. Be quiet, Conker. You can play too, King Oberon. I’m Princess, um - ’

‘Queen Titania,’ he said, bowing again. The dog had subsided, thank God.

‘Oh yes. Queen Titania. And Conker, does he have a special name?’

‘The jester, Puck.’

It was that easy, he couldn’t believe his luck. She had laughed and chatted and showed him round the ‘palace’. Then Big Helen had called from their garden.

‘A secret,’ he said quickly, bending close and touching a finger to her perfectly formed lips, feeling the warmth from her delicious little body spread right through his own.
‘We won’t tell anyone, not a soul. This is our secret.’

And of course she agreed straightaway. She was his friend now.

‘A secret.’ She touched her lips too, then turned and raced down through the woods, the dog loping along behind her. It was a pity about the dog, he would have to get rid of it.

Very soon it would be Paradise time for Little Helen. When he was certain that big Helen trusted him – and that wouldn’t be long now – then it would be his hour. His day. And
when little Helen was safe with his own Helen, big Helen would turn to him. All his Helens, how lucky he was.

Little Helen in Paradise. It would be easy, she was so sweet and trusting.

The wine glass was empty, and he set it down on the table, smiling gently. The good times were beginning.

Alicia

Alicia said nothing about her encounter with Douglas Patton when she arrived back home. She wanted to get Margaret to help her, see if they could find out more about what,
exactly, her father could understand now. There was a big difference between suggesting putting someone who was more or less
compos mentis
into a care home, and sending someone who
didn’t know if he was coming or going. It would be easier for Margaret if she knew the old man’s mind was irreversibly affected by the strokes. And it was - wasn’t it? You could
see that he was oblivious to the world around him. And yet there was the mystery of his reaction to Alicia herself - what was going on there? The sudden eye contact and inappropriate laughter were
reserved for her, he never did that with anyone else. It was impossible to know what he was thinking.

Margaret immediately agreed to try some of the old speech therapy exercises, and Alicia heaved a relieved sigh. Her father was more likely to be cooperative with Margaret around.

They sat down in the living room and tried to engage the old man. He wouldn’t look up at first, but eventually Margaret succeeded in attracting his attention and worked with him, trying to
get him to sign ‘yes’ and ‘no’ with his good hand. Alicia watched in frustration. Bob looked at Margaret when she asked the questions, but his hand stayed limp in her
hand.

‘It’s no use,’ said Alicia at last. ‘He doesn’t understand. He can move that hand perfectly well, he just doesn’t know what you want from him.’

Margaret nodded. ‘I think you might be right,’ she said, patting Bob’s hand and turning to look at Alicia. ‘But remember this, lovey, he’s still your
father.’

She left the room, and Alicia sighed. Somehow that remark didn’t bode well for a successful ‘let’s put Dad in a home’ conversation later on. A soft snigger made her look
up, and she gasped before backing away. Her father was staring straight at her, with perfect eye contact, and he was laughing quietly, his mouth half-open and his breath wheezing in his chest. A
dribble of spit worked its way down his chin.