The Paradise Trees (13 page)

Of course, these weren’t Helen’s own trees, and definitely not the tree where she’d died. Helen’s own tree was far away, but trees were trees, woods were woods, and the
special feeling was here too. But now intrusive feet had stamped over everything, and strangers’ eyes had peered into the holiness. Sacrilege. It was hard to believe it had all gone so wrong,
and the rage was coming back again, swirling around the edges of his mind, and it was against the two new Helens now and oh, he didn’t want that. The rage would send them to hell with Mummy
and Snugglepuss and he wanted them in Paradise with Helen.

He came to the beautiful circle of trees and stood still, outrage filling his mind until he could hardly think at all. Even here, even here. You would see at a glance if an old man was wandering
about the clearing, but still there were footprints, dozens of them, going from one side to the other and back again. The moss was torn and muddied, and little Helen’s woodland flowers had
been crushed to death. His sacrificial place had been violated. He had so wanted to send little Helen to Paradise today, but he couldn’t have done it in the midst of all this mess even if she
had been here. And he hadn’t been able to take her to his flat, either. So his plan had worked beautifully as far as getting the old man out of the house was concerned, but the last, the most
important part, with little Helen... that hadn’t worked at all.

Sudden raindrops pattered down, and he stood there, feeling his hair grow heavy and sodden and watching with grim pleasure as the few raindrops turned into a brisk shower. Gradually, the alien
footprints in the clearing ceased to be footprints and became mere mud. He breathed out, a deep, heartfelt sigh of relief.

It was going to be alright. Mother Nature was strong, she would soon rebuild his sacrificial alter. Another few showers would wash the place clean, heal the wounds. He would just have to be
patient for a day or two. He would get a second chance.

But he had so wanted to be with little Helen here, today...

Back came the rage, filling his head, tightening round his heart until he could hardly draw breath. His world was turning dark around the edges. What right did anyone have to stop him sending a
sweet little Helen to Paradise?

He waited, fighting to regain control. This wasn’t good for him, these sudden rages always left him with a headache. Of course he could be patient again, and it would only be a very short
time. This time tomorrow, you would probably never know that anything had happened here. It was time for Plan B.

His time
would
come.

Alicia

Much to Alicia’s surprise, Margaret didn’t argue about the decision to put her father into the care home.

‘It’s not what I’d wanted for him, Alicia,’ she said, her voice sounding resigned and flat. ‘But it’s your decision. Are you sure I don’t need to come
home today?’

Well done David, thought Alicia. Her cousin had worked a minor miracle with his mother. Or maybe it was the fact that Margaret was having her first holiday away from this house in years, and
realising that in a few weeks’ time she was going to be a grandmother. She would want time to visit David and Sheila, help with the baby, enjoy the new addition to the family. Not so easy
with a stroke patient at home needing care and attention 24/7.

‘Frank said he shouldn’t be any the worse, once he’s had a good rest,’ she said carefully. ‘I’m sorry, Margaret. I know this was all my fault, but it just
happened out of the situation.’

Back in the kitchen she rinsed the mugs, aware that she was smiling. This time tomorrow her father wouldn’t be here anymore. She wouldn’t need to shower him, feed him, clean him up,
wondering all the while what he had done to her. Tomorrow, she would succeed in what she had come here to do, so at the very worst she would have one more soiled bed to deal with, and then the
burden would be gone. Happy thought for the day.

An even more pleasant thought was that with her father in St. Joe’s she was bound to see more of Doug, and soon, too. Would he be around tomorrow? It would be very interesting, seeing him
again. Would the attraction still be there?

She grinned, aware that on her side at least it certainly would. Humming, she glanced out to the back garden. Sunshine and showers, a typical English summer. And very soon she and Jen could
start to enjoy it. Thanks to all the people who had helped find her father safe this morning, which reminded her, she should call Kenneth Taylor to say thank you. He had scurried away as soon as
the search party had returned and it was all down to him that they’d found her father in that house.

Kenneth was obviously embarrassed by her call.

‘It was nothing, Mrs Bryson, just a coincidence that I was looking the right way at the right time. I hope he’s none the worse?’

‘He’ll be fine, thank God. It was all my fault, I should have watched him better.’

Heavens, why on earth had she said that? She barely knew the man. The sheer relief that her father was okay, and that soon, soon she wouldn’t have to look after him any longer – it
was making her positively garrulous.

Once again Kenneth surprised her.

‘We all do things we regret, Mrs Bryson. I know that myself. But don’t worry, there’s no harm done.’

His voice sounded strained, and Alicia wondered what on earth a lumbering teddy bear like Kenneth Taylor had done to cause regret. She rang off and shouted for Jenny. Chocolate ice cream sounded
like a good idea right now.

Alicia

It wasn’t so much a flashback this time as a full-blown nightmare. She was on a bed – impossible to say which bed – consumed with pain, she couldn’t
move, and she was crying. And it was dark; unidentifiable shadows loomed up wherever she turned her gaze. So it probably wasn’t her own bed in her own room. She was alone, and she was
terrified. It was difficult to breathe.

Then her arm was being shaken and she struggled to wrench herself away.

‘Mummy, wake up!’

Alicia forced her eyes open and saw Jenny standing next to the bed looking scared. What a hellish dream. And she had woken Jen up... shit, had she been talking? Had she said anything in her
sleep? The very last thing she wanted to do was give her daughter any inkling of the chaos going on in her head at the moment.

‘Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry. I was having a bad dream. Did I wake you up?’

Jenny nodded, gulping. ‘I was scared,’ she said plaintively. ‘You were shouting, Mummy ‘no, no!’, and ‘ah!’. What were you dreaming?’

Alicia looked at the clock. It was ten past two and her nightshirt was sticking to her.

‘It was just a horrid dream, Jen. We all have them sometimes. Come on, let’s get you back to bed.’

When the little girl had settled she went back to her own room. Relax, Alicia. Don’t think too hard. You’re the adult, you’re in control, you survived. Her new mantra. She
would lie down and go back to sleep. Just thank God her father hadn’t woken up.

She did sleep but her rest was still broken by uncomfortable images chasing around her head. When the alarm went off a few hours later her adrenalin level shot skywards before she even opened
her eyes. It was an abrupt kind of start to the day, she thought, massaging the tightness from her forehead. Did the dream have anything to do with her flashbacks? What was the difference between a
flashback and a dream, anyway – one for being awake, the other for sleep? She would have to ask Frank. Or maybe she had slept so badly because this was the day she was taking her father to
the care home.

The house was silent as she paused on the landing. Jenny was still asleep, long dark hair spread untidily over the pillow and one hand cushioning her cheek. Conker thumped his tail on the floor
when Alicia looked in, but he didn’t get up from his place beside the bed. Alicia left them to it.

Her father was still asleep too, and judging by the lack of smell in the room he was clean this morning. A better day than yesterday.

Frank had appeared just before seven the previous evening and together they had washed and prepared the old man for the night.

‘Heat him some soup,’ advised Frank. ‘And give him his sleeping pill along with it. After a day like today you need a good night’s rest as much as he does.’

He hadn’t said any more about the flashbacks, and Alicia was grateful. She had heated vegetable soup for her father and taken it upstairs along with coffee for herself and Frank. Jenny
came in while they were there and fetched herself a coke and a packet of crisps which she shared round, and they had quite a little picnic in her father’s room.

‘We could call this ‘Bob’s Caff’. Almost as good as McDonald’s,’ Alicia teased Jenny.

‘There’s a new café in Middle Banford,’ Frank said suddenly. ‘Why don’t we go there sometime? My treat. Not that it could possibly be better than coffee and
crisps in Bob’s Caff, of course.’

Jenny giggled in delight. ‘Do they have huge big ice creams?’ she asked, and Frank put on a serious face.

‘Mega ones,’ he said. ‘Bet I can eat more than you!’

Jenny giggled again, and Alicia laughed. ‘You haven’t seen Jenny eating ice cream,’ she said. ‘‘Expert’ doesn’t come into it. My money’s on my
daughter.’

‘In that case I’d better start practising,’ said Frank solemnly. He looked at her, the expression in his eyes unfathomable. ‘That’s a date, then?’

‘Lovely,’ said Alicia, amused. If he wanted to ask her out again he was making heavy weather of it. Was he afraid she’d say no to ice cream, with her daughter as chaperone? Of
course he was the nervous type, and maybe the fact that she hadn’t been able to go to the pub that night had been enough to make him feel awkward. She smiled warmly at him and he grinned back
before accepting another crisp from Jenny.

Alicia sat sipping her coffee. It was funny, but two men had asked her out for coffee this week. Whatever had happened to posh meals in elegant restaurants? Mind you, Frank and elegant
restaurants didn’t seem to go together, though Doug would probably be very good at that kind of thing. She could imagine him in a tailored suit, looking through the wine list and ordering
something confidently. His coffee invitation had been much more personal too. Of course, she was attracted to Doug, wasn’t she, and Frank was... what was he? More than just ‘the
doctor’, of course, he was lovely, he was Sonja’s brother... her friend now, too, and there was the difference. The thought of Doug increased her heart rate, whereas Frank was simply an
old friend... wasn’t he?

But what did it all matter? Today she was going to put her father into a home, and the good night’s sleep Frank had recommended hadn’t come to much, her nightmare had seen to
that.

And an hour or so later, she and Jenny were ushering her father through the big double doors into Ward Two. There was an old lady in the dayroom today, humming away to herself in a cracked,
high-pitched old voice, staring at the television where the cricket played on and on. What did they watch in the winter? Cartoons? Would her father still be here in the winter for her to find out?
Alicia deposited him in a chair by the door.

‘Alicia! And Jenny!’ She jumped as Doug Patton strode into the room with Derek Thorpe. ‘Hello, Robert, you’re looking well.’

‘Everyone just calls him Bob,’ said Alicia, feeling her palms moisten at the sight of Doug. Did he realise he was having this effect on her? She turned to her father. ‘Look,
um, this is Douglas Patton, a new friend. And this is... ’

‘Derek,’ he said, squeezing her father’s good hand. The old man showed no reaction at all. ‘It’s all Christian names here. Makes the place more homely, I
think.’

‘Can I go outside?’ said Jenny suddenly, and Alicia looked at her in surprise.

‘Don’t you want to see Grandpa’s room?’ she said, but Jenny shook her head, staring at the floor and winding one leg round the other. ‘Well, alright then.
Don’t go too near the pond, okay?’

Jenny ran from the room. Alicia looked after her, concerned. Doug patted her shoulder.

‘It’s probably all a bit much for her here,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Leave her be for a while, she’ll be fine in the garden.’

Alicia nodded, realising that she should have told Jen more about St. Joe’s. Told her that it was full of old, old people who couldn’t think anymore. Her Grandpa’s strangeness
was familiar to Jenny now but the poor old lady singing away over there must seem like a witch to an imaginative eight-year-old. Poor Jen. Well, with her father in here she would have much more
time for her daughter. They could go out for a hamburger and have a long chat afterwards and she would explain all about growing old.

Derek led them along the corridor to a two-bedded room with blue and green duvet covers and a lovely view over the garden. Identical ducks were swimming around the pond looking lively. Would her
father watch them? Probably not. Jenny was out there too, playing a hopping game on the path beside the rose bed.

‘Frank Carter said religion was important to your Dad, so we put him in this room because you can see the church tower from here,’ said Derek, leading her father to a chair by the
vacant bed.

Christ. What a lovely gesture for a poisonous old man who...

‘Aaah! Aaah! Ha ha!’

Her father’s eyes were wide open, fixed on her face. He struggled to his feet, his good hand grabbing her wrist in a crushing grip, and Alicia fought to release herself. He had obviously
twigged that he was here to stay. Thank God Jenny was outside. Doug came to her rescue and stood there almost cuddling her father while Derek produced a sedative. For a few minutes the old man
struck out at anyone close enough to hit, then sank back into the chair, his expression softening and his breathing returning to normal. Alicia closed her eyes in relief.

‘What exactly can he understand?’ said Derek, leading her to one side.

Alicia bit her lip. ‘It’s difficult to say. I don’t think he understands speech, maybe just the odd word. He doesn’t cooperate when you try to communicate with signs,
either. But he sometimes has a sort of flash when he seems to understand situations, so I guess he might understand that he’s here to stay.’