The Olive Tree (11 page)

‘Okay,’ William acquiesced, knowing it was a done deal. ‘Coming out?’ He offered her his hand, and she followed him into the bright sunlight of the terrace.

The three children were already gathered around the table under the pergola in various states of undress, Fred completely naked.

‘Mum, I’m sorry, but I don’t want to spend my entire holiday minding Fred and Immy in the pool,’ complained Alex, slumping into a chair. ‘Immy just wants to jump in
all the time and I can’t leave her in case she hurts herself or drowns and it’s just . . . boring.’

‘I know, Alex. I’ll come down after lunch and relieve you, promise,’ said Helena, serving out salad onto each of the plates. ‘Guess what? Auntie Sadie is coming to stay
with us.’

‘Another slice gone,’ muttered Alex under his breath.

‘What, Alex?’ asked William.

‘Nothing. Can you pass the pitta bread, Immy?’

‘It does mean we’re going to have to rethink the bedrooms yet again,’ said Helena. ‘I suppose we could clear out the box room, which is full of Angus’ stuff, and
Sadie could sleep in there. It’s not a bad size, but it’ll take some work to do it.’

‘And a skip, from what I saw was in there. He was obviously a hoarder,’ added William.

‘You never know what you might find, Mum,’ said Alex, brightening up. ‘I’ll help you. I love wading through old junk.’

‘We’ve noticed, from the state of your bedroom,’ remarked William.

‘Thanks, Alex,’ said Helena, ignoring him. ‘We could do it this afternoon.’

‘Daddy, when will you take us to the water park?’ asked Immy.

‘Soon, Immy, but I think the water park in our garden is good enough for now.’

‘But it hasn’t got no slides or things.’

‘Eat your ham, Immy, don’t play with it. Daddy’s just arrived. Stop hassling him,’ reprimanded Helena.

‘Unless you want me to take them to the water park this afternoon, get them out of your hair while you clear out that box room?’ offered William. ‘And remember,
Chloë’s arriving tomorrow. I have to fetch her from the airport. And then the Chandlers arrive the following day, God help us.’

‘YES! Daddy! Today! Today!’ Fred joined in Immy’s chorus, banging his spoon on his plate in tandem.

‘Enough!’ William barked. ‘If you promise to eat everything on your plate, we’ll go later on, when the sun’s gone down a little.’

‘You might be right about the skip,’ mused Helena. ‘But where on earth I get one from, I’ve no idea.’

‘Can I have a drink of orange juice, Mummy? I’m thirsty,’ Fred asked.

‘I’ll get it, Fred.’ William stood up, glanced at Helena and gave her a wry smile. ‘I’m sure your friend Alexis would know. Why don’t you call him?’

Helena and Alex stood in the doorway of the box room, mainly because it was impossible to step inside.

‘God, Mum, where do we start?’ As Alex looked at the furniture and endless discarded brown boxes, stacked to the ceiling, he began to regret not joining the others at the water
park.

‘Bring the chair from Immy and Fred’s bedroom, and we can stand on it and pull down some of these boxes and stack them all on the landing. Then at least we can get in.’

‘Okay.’

Alex fetched the chair, stood on it and lifted the first box down to Helena. He climbed down to watch as she opened it.

‘Wow! It’s full of old photographs. Look at that one! Is that Angus?’

Helena surveyed the handsome, fair-haired man in full military regalia and nodded. ‘Yes. And in this one . . . he’s on the terrace here with some people I don’t know, and . . .
goodness, that’s my mother with him!’

‘Your mum was very pretty, she looked like you,’ remarked Alex.

‘Or I look like her, and yes, she was,’ Helena smiled. ‘She was an actress before she married my father. She did rather well, starred in a number of West End plays and was
thought of as a real beauty.’

‘Then gave up her career to marry your dad?’

‘Yes, although she was well over thirty when she married him. She didn’t have me until she was forty.’

‘Wasn’t having a baby so late unusual for those days?’

‘Very.’ Helena smiled at Alex. ‘I think I might have been a bit of a mistake. She really wasn’t the maternal type, your granny.’

‘Did I ever meet her?’ asked Alex.

‘No. She died before you were born. I was twenty-three and dancing in Italy at the time.’

‘Do you miss her now she’s dead?’

‘To be honest, Alex, not really. I was packed off to boarding school at the age of ten, and even before that, I had a nanny. I always felt as though I was rather in the way.’

‘Oh Mum, how awful.’ Alex patted her hand in a show of sympathy.

‘Not really.’ Helena shrugged. ‘It was what I was brought up to expect. My father was much older than Mum, nearly sixty when I was born. He was very rich, had an estate in
Kenya and used to disappear off shooting for months at a time. They were what you might call socialites, my parents, always travelling, throwing house parties . . . a little girl didn’t
really fit in to their lifestyle.’

‘I never met Grandpa either, did I?’

‘No, he died when I was fourteen.’

‘If he was so rich, did you get lots of money when he died?’

‘No. My mother was his second wife. He had two sons from his first marriage and they inherited everything. And my mum was a real spendthrift, so there wasn’t much left when she died
either.’

‘Sounds like you had a crap time growing up.’

‘No, just different, that’s all. It made me very self-sufficient, anyway.’ Helena felt the usual sense of discomfort that welled up within her when she talked about her
childhood. ‘And determined to have a proper family of my own. Anyway, let’s put this box to one side. If we’re going to go through the contents of every one we bring out of there,
we’ll never get it cleared.’

‘Okay.’

They worked solidly for the next two hours, pulling Angus’ past out of the room. Alex unearthed a trunk containing his old uniforms, and followed his mother downstairs to the kitchen
wearing a khaki peaked cap and carrying a regimental sword.

‘Very fetching, darling.’ Helena poured them both some water and drank thirstily from her glass. ‘This really isn’t the thing to be doing on a boiling hot afternoon. But
I reckon we’re over halfway there.’

‘Yeah, but what are we going to do with it all? I mean, you can’t throw this away, can you?’ Alex wielded the sword, which was extremely heavy.

‘I think it might be an idea to hang that on a wall somewhere in the house, and we can store the boxes of photographs and other memorabilia in the outhouse until I get a chance to look
through them. As for the rest . . . we do need a skip. I’d better call Alexis, as Dad suggested, see if he knows where I can get one.’

Alex made no comment as Helena dialled a number on her mobile, then disappeared onto the terrace to talk. She came back and nodded. ‘Good news. He’s going to come over with his
truck, load up the rubbish and take it to the dump for me. We won’t need a skip after all. Come on, let’s get back to work. Alexis is coming at five.’

When William pulled up in the drive at Pandora, he saw Alexis carrying a large box into the outhouse. The back of the truck parked in front of the house was full of broken
furniture, old lampshades and moth-eaten rugs. He left Immy and Fred asleep in the back of the car, with the doors open to let in the early evening breeze, and went inside to find Helena.

‘Hello, darling.’ Helena stood upstairs at the door of the empty box room with a broom, dusty but triumphant. ‘Isn’t it great? It’s much bigger than I thought. I
reckon we can easily get a double bed in here. Alexis says there’s one in a spare room of his we can borrow.’

‘Oh. Good.’

‘It needs a coat of paint, of course, but it’s got such a lovely view of the mountains and the floor isn’t tiled, just boards, so I thought we could varnish them
eventually.’

‘Great,’ said William. ‘So, your friend’s been helping you.’

‘Yes, he came over with his truck about an hour ago. He’s put all the boxes I want to look through in the outhouse, and the rubbish on the truck to take to the dump.’

William nodded. ‘I’m sure he’s been very helpful, but you could have asked me to move those boxes, you know.’

‘You weren’t here, William, and Alexis offered, that’s all.’

William didn’t reply. He turned and walked back along the corridor towards the stairs.

‘You’re not cross, are you?’ she called after him.

‘No.’ William disappeared down the stairs.

Helena thumped the door frame. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! You were the one who suggested I call him,’ she muttered under her breath as she followed him downstairs to find Alexis
standing in the kitchen.

‘All is done. I will go now to the dump to take the rubbish.’

‘Will you not stay for a drink with us?’

‘No, thank you. I will see you soon.’

‘Yes. And thank you so much, once again.’

Alexis smiled, nodded and left through the back door.

Having removed two grumpy, tired children from the car, fed them, then put them on the sofa in the drawing room in front of a DVD, Helena poured herself a glass of wine and went out onto the
terrace. She could hear Alex splashing around in the pool, and saw William leaning on the balustrade at the end of the terrace. She sat down under the pergola, not inclined to announce her
presence. Finally he turned towards her and walked back across the terrace to sit beside her.

‘Sorry, Helena, that was churlish of me. It just feels odd, that’s all, another man doing stuff that I’d usually do. I feel as though I’ve entered your world here and I
don’t belong.’

‘Darling, you’ve been here less than a day. You’re still adjusting to the place.’

‘No, it’s more than that,’ he sighed. ‘This is your kingdom, your house, your life from another time. Whether it’s true or not, that’s how I feel.’

‘You don’t like it here?’

‘I think it’s beautiful, but . . .’ William shook his head. ‘I need a drink. One moment.’ He disappeared inside, and came back with a bottle and a glass.

‘Top-up?’

Helena nodded, and he refilled her glass.

‘This wine really is very drinkable. Your friend obviously knows what he’s doing.’

‘His name is Alexis, William, and yes, he does, but then, he was taught from the cradle.’

‘Well . . . I suppose we should have him round for supper to thank him properly.’

‘There really is no need.’

‘Yes, there is. To be frank,’ he said, taking another sip of wine, ‘I’m probably uptight about tomorrow.’

‘You mean Chloë’s arrival?’

‘Yes. This daughter of mine, whom I no longer know, who’s only been taught what a shit I am . . . I have no idea how she’ll be, but I’m as sure as hell that it
wasn’t her idea to come here. She’s bound to be resentful about being shipped off to us, so her mother is free to be romanced in France without her. She might be very difficult, Helena.
And’ – William took a sip of his wine – ‘I wouldn’t blame her if she was.’

‘I’m sure we’ll deal with it, darling. And there’ll be a lot of people here, which should dilute any tension.’

‘Of which there’s bound to be lots, from all sorts of angles.’

‘We’ll cope.’ Helena reached for his hand, and squeezed it. ‘We always do.’

‘Yes, but . . .’ William sighed. ‘I had hoped that we might not just “cope”. That this summer would be a chance for us to have some
fun
.’

‘And I don’t see why we can’t. We’ve certainly got an interesting cast of characters on the guest list.’

‘Have you heard from Sadie yet, by the way?’

‘Yes. She arrives on the same flight as the Chandlers. I’m going to see if they can give her a lift here from the airport.’

‘Christ!’ William managed a wry smile. ‘The notorious Jules and her browbeaten spouse, not to mention Rupes and Viola, a suicidal Sadie . . . and a daughter I hardly
know.’

‘Well, if you put it like that, it does sound completely ghastly,’ agreed Helena. ‘Shall we give up and go home now?’

‘You’re right. I’m being negative, forgive me. By the way, have you mentioned anything about Chloë’s imminent arrival to Immy and Fred?’ William asked her.

‘No. I’ve told Alex, but I rather thought you’d like to be the one to tell the little ones.’

‘Right. I’d better get a move on, then. Any ideas as to how I put it to them?’ he asked.

‘Casually, I suppose, like it’s no big deal. And remember that blood is thicker than water. Chloë is their half-sister, and they share fifty per cent of their genes.’

‘You’re right. It’s just the other fifty per cent of Chloë that worries me. What if she’s like her mother?’

‘Then God help us all. How about we tell Immy and Fred together?’

‘Yes.’ William nodded his head gratefully. ‘Thanks, Helena.’

The two little ones were, as Helena expected, unperturbed by the impending arrival of the sister they’d never met.

‘Is she nice, Daddy?’ asked Immy as she snuggled on William’s knee. ‘What does she look like?’

‘Well, everyone used to say that Chloë looked like me.’

‘She has short brown hair and big ears? Ugghh!’

‘Thanks, sweetheart.’ William kissed the top of his daughter’s head. ‘She’s far prettier than I am, I promise.’

‘Is Cowee comin’ to live forever with us?’ enquired Fred from under the table, where he was playing with one of his trucks.

‘It’s Chloë, Fred,’ corrected Helena. ‘No, just for the time we’re here in Cyprus.’

‘Does she live by herself, then?’

‘No, she lives with her mummy,’ explained William.

‘No she don’t, ’cos I never seen her in our house.’

‘She has a different mummy to you, darling.’ Helena knew it was pointless trying to rationalise the situation to a three-year-old. ‘Anyway, time for sleep, chaps.’

The usual chorus of complaints ensued, but finally, both of them were tucked up in their beds next to each other. Helena kissed them gently on their sweetly sweaty foreheads.

‘Night-night – don’t let the bed bugs bite.’ She pulled the door to behind her and bumped into Alex on the landing, taking his rucksack downstairs to his new sleeping
quarters.

‘Hi, Mum, okay?’