The Perfect Retreat (24 page)

Lucian picked up Custard the bear and walked downstairs. He could hear his mother and Merritt talking heatedly in the kitchen. Kitty wasn’t around, nor was Poppy. His father had left the house a while back. He found George asleep in the drawing room and he picked up the small puppy. Tying a long red hair ribbon of Poppy’s around the dog’s neck, he dragged him out through the French doors, out onto the terrace, and found himself on the lawn.

He looked each way. Where to go? he wondered. He reached down and patted the dog, and then set off in his red jumper and blue jeans.

He walked through the trees and came to a fence. Clambering under it, he was in a large field, and he looked around again. He let go of George’s ribbon and George ran ahead. Lucian chased him and they ran to the other side of the field, and soon they were both exhausted.

Coming to a road, Lucian put out his foot and stepped on the trail of ribbon to pull George back to him. He must be careful on roads, he always remembered Kitty saying that.

He walked up the road further. He had no idea where he was going, he just wanted to be away when his father tried to take Poppy and George away from him. He didn’t mind Poppy going so much, she was annoying, always talking when he was trying to find the words, but George was another story. George and Custard were his only friends. And Merritt, but he was a grownup after all, and you can’t trust grownups.

Taking a small path off the road, he walked along a bit further; but he felt tired. So tired. And hungry.

He sat down under a large tree and George settled in next to him. Lucian sat and closed his eyes for a moment. The sun on his face was nice. He liked the country, he thought. He liked lots of things, but no one understood him. No one tried. Maybe Merritt, a little, and Kitty; but not his mother or father. At the thought of his father, Lucian started to cry. Big fat tears rolled down his little face and he cried with sheer abandonment. He knew more than people thought; he had things he’d say one day. He knew stuff, plenty of stuff, if someone would listen.

George looked up at him and jumped up and licked the salty tears from his face and Lucian laughed. ‘George,’ he said in a faltering voice, and the small dog wagged his tail.

‘George,’ he said again. George would listen, he thought, and then he fell asleep.

To George Middlemist

27 Rue du Moulin Vert, 14ème

Montparnasse

1865

George,

You have broken my heart. You have broken it and I will never forgive you. I have been left alone with this house and our children and nothing else. What can I do? What shall I do?

I am now faced with a future that is uncertain, except I know you are no longer in my heart.

You promised me the world and delivered me nothing but your lies. I hate you. I loathe you.

When you were with her and not with your wife, you destroyed everything wonderful we had.

I gave up everything for you. I have no family; no country; no art. I have destroyed all your paintings so I will never see your name again.

I have poisoned the orange and clementine trees; dug up your garden; salted the earth. It will be years before anything grows here again.

Things only grow when there is love, and there is no love in the earth at Middlemist any more.

Do not write to me, do not visit me. You will never see your children again. Ever.

If not for them then I would die, but they give me reason to go on.

Fin.

Clementina.

Merritt and Willow were having an almighty row. Filming was halted until they had sorted out their differences, but it seemed they were at a stalemate.

‘You were kissing him,’ said Merritt accusingly.

‘You didn’t see me clock him in the face!’ she screamed at him.

Merritt chose to ignore this. The jealousy he was experiencing far outweighed what he had felt when he caught Eliza and Johnny together. He was furious with Willow and with Kerr for spoiling his idyllic life.

‘Stop being such a jealous pig, Merritt. You have no right,’ she said wearily.

‘No right? I fucking love you! That’s what right I have!’ he screamed.

Jenny the production assistant popped her head around the doorway. ‘I know this is a terrible time, but we have to push on; it’s the last day,’ she said, embarrassed.

Merritt glared at her and Willow walked towards the door. ‘If you are going to act like this then I’m going back to London,’ she said and she walked into the hallway.

‘Have you got a pen and paper?’ she asked Jenny, who handed her the clipboard.

Scribbling quickly, she ripped off the piece of paper and handed it to Jenny. ‘Get this to Kitty, my nanny, will you please?’ she asked, and Jenny nodded.

Willow walked out and went to costume to prepare f
or the next scene, ignoring the stares fro
m the crew and extras and holding her head up high. Fuck you Merritt, she thought; you’re no better than Kerr. How dare he be so rude and accusatory? she thought. Well fuck him. She wo
uld head back to London for a while
and see how he liked that.

Shooting through the afternoon, Harold worked her hard and she barely had time to think about Merritt. When she finished shooting she changed and walked back inside the warzone. She could hear Jinty crying, and Poppy was sitting in the dark watching television, her nose pressed up to the screen.

‘Where’s Kitty?’ she asked, looking around.

‘Dunno,’ said Poppy.

‘I don’t know,’ corrected Willow.

‘Yeah, I dunno,’ said Poppy again, and Willow shook her head. Merritt was nowhere to be seen, and walking upstairs she found Jinty in her cot, screaming and purple in the dark. She was sweaty when Willow picked her up, and her nappy was dirty and wet through. She must have been alone for hours, thought Willow angrily.

She changed Jinty and, soothing her, carried her
downstairs
. She started to make scrambled eggs and toast with one hand while holding Jinty in her other arm.

‘Poppy, Lucian, eggs!’ she cried.

Settling Jinty into her highchair, she set the plate in front of her with a sippy cup of juice. Poppy wandered in. ‘Can I eat it in front of the TV?’ she asked.

‘No,’ said Willow firmly.

‘Lucian!’ she called again.

‘He’s not here,’ said Poppy sitting down.

‘What do you mean? Has he gone somewhere with Merritt?’ she asked, remembering the sound of Merritt’s car speeding off from the house and interrupting a scene.

‘No, he went with George. He’s gone to America I think,’ she said, licking the butter off the toast.

Willow felt panic welling up inside her.

‘America? What do you mean, Poppy?’ she shouted at the child.

Poppy looked at her mother. Gone was the happy version she had come to know, and back was the angry Mummy she remembered from London.

Poppy said nothing, afraid of what might happen if she spoke.

Willow felt sick. ‘Where has he gone, Poppy? Where?’ She started to shake the child. ‘Where?’ she screamed again, and Jinty and Poppy started to cry.

‘What’s going on?’ she heard, and she looked up to see Merritt standing in the doorway.

‘Lucian’s gone! Poppy said something about America,’ Willow screamed at Merritt. ‘Where were you?’

‘America? He’s not going to America. Kerr wants to take Poppy,’ said Merritt, trying to soothe the girls. ‘I just went out for a while to clear my head.’

‘It’s OK, it’s OK,’ he said, lifting Jinty from the chair. Poppy ran to his side, sobbing desperately into his leg.

Willow ran to her mobile phone and dialled Kerr’s number. He didn’t answer.

‘I swear if you have taken Lucian as some sort of punishment for me hitting you I will fucking kill you, you hear me?’ she spat down the phone. ‘Bring him back at once!’

She hung up and wrung her hands together. ‘Where is he? Why weren’t you here? Where’s Kitty? Fuck, she’s stupid,’ said Willow.

‘That’s enough, Willow,’ said Merritt, with a warning in his voice.

‘I sent her a note.’ Willow picked up her phone again, and tipping a sheaf of papers out onto the table, she leaf
ed through the
m till she found what she was looking for: the numbers of everyone in the production from the call sheet.

She started to dial with shaking hands and tried three times to get the order of the numbers right.

‘Jenny, hi. It’s Willow. Did you give that note to Kitty? You did? When? OK, thanks. No, fine, all fine,’ she said and hung up.

‘I gave Jenny a note for Kitty to get the children ready and to help me and she has left them here, alone. What sort of a person does that?’ she screamed at Merritt as she ran into the hallway calling Lucian’s name.

She ran back and dialled Kitty’s number. ‘Kitty, where are you? Have you got Lucian? Please call me back.’

She ran around the house, calling Lucian’s name and then calling Kitty in between, her messages becoming more desperate.

‘God dammit Kitty! Call me back.’

‘Kitty, where the fuck are you?’

‘Kitty, for god’s sake, you better have a good excuse.’

Finally she sat on the stairs and cried. Merritt walked out with the girls. ‘I think we’d better call the police,’ he said.

‘No police, no – they’ll make it all too hard with the press and everything,’ she wailed.

‘Who gives a fuck about the press? Your child is missing,’ he said to her.

‘You think I don’t know that, you fucking idiot?’ she screamed at him, and she dialled another number.

‘Lucy, Willow. Can you come down? We have a situation. Yes. Lucian’s missing,’ she said. ‘OK, see you soon.’

‘A situation? You call your autistic son missing a
situation
?’ asked Merritt, incredulous.

‘He’s not autistic! How dare you?’ she said, standing up. Poppy watched them from behind the banister.

‘He fucking is and you know it,’ said Merritt back to her. ‘You have to hear it at some point. You are living in a made- up world, Willow.’

‘Fuck you,’ she said, crying. ‘You don’t know anything! Stop trying to be their father, they have one already. You are so fucking needy with your love bullshit and waving at Lucian and all that crap. It’s so transparent, you make me sick.’

Merritt put Jinty down on the floor, pulled Poppy out from behind the banister and pushed her towards her mother.

‘They’re your kids, you deal with them!’ he yelled. ‘Now get the fuck out of my house!’

Willow fell to the floor with Jinty and wept while Merritt stepped over her and walked upstairs. It was Poppy who knelt over her mother as she slumped there, stroking her hair like Kitty did to her when she was sad.

‘It will be OK Mummy, you can come to America with Daddy and me and see Lucian. We might need to leave Jinty here though. Daddy said she was a mistake.’

And Willow wept harder than ever before.

Kitty had heard Willow and Merritt fighting. Listening outside
in the hallway, she pieced together that Willow had been
kissed
by Kerr. Merritt was angry and now they were screaming
at each other. Lovers’ tiff, she thought, and she wandered upstairs and checked on Jinty, who was fast asleep.

Walking down again, she saw Willow out of the window walking towards costume and she was stopped by Jenny. ‘Willow wanted you to have this,’ she said, handing her a note. She hurried away before Kitty could pretend to have forgotten her reading glasses and get her to read the note out loud, so she stuffed it into the pocket of her skirt. Probably more organic items she wanted Kitty to order from London.

Her mobile phone rang and Ivo’s face popped up on the screen – this was the best way to know who was calling – and she answered it excitedly. He still hadn’t made a move on her, although she was desperate for him to do so.

‘Hello,’ she purred into the phone, as she had seen Willow do to Merritt on occasion.

‘Hello yourself,’ said Ivo, surprised at her tone. She had been a reluctant student and perhaps, he admitted to himself, he had been a little overzealous in his Professor Higgins role. ‘What are you doing now?’ he asked.

‘Nothing. Wandering around looking for something to do,’ she said, thinking – more like some
one
to do. Wanting Ivo between her thighs had become her newfound obsession, and she was surprised at how attractive she felt around him. Sometimes when they read together, it was all she could do to not reach out and touch his face; pull off his shirt; but she didn’t. She told herself it was just a crush on the teacher, but that was a new feeling too. She had hated all her teachers through school, and now here she was fantasising about school uniforms and rulers.

Kitty made a decision. She had had enough of waiting; of learning; she needed to start practising.

‘Fancy a visitor?’ she asked. She heard her phone beeping. Low battery. Shit. Hurry up, she willed. She needed Ivo to make a decision before they were cut off.

‘Sure,’ said Ivo easily, wondering what Kitty was up to. She was impossible to read, excuse the pun, he thought to himself as he hung up the phone. At times he thought she looked at him with pure lust, but then other times it was just hate. Usually when he was trying to teach her the letters of the alphabet.

It wasn’t as though he wasn’t attracted to Kitty. He was; she was divine – and those breasts, he thought to himself, but he felt differently about her. More protective of her somehow.

He would be heading back to London soon, and he wondered if she would visit him there. Probably not, he thought, thinking of how she had said she disliked it when they visited there together.

Ivo stretched and sniffed his armpits. Wrinkling up his nose, he decided he should have a shower before Kitty’s arrival. As he washed himself, he thought about her breasts again and he felt his cock becoming stiff under the streams of warm water. He hadn’t had sex in five weeks. He could have with any of the extras, but somehow his friendship with Kitty stopped him. Commitment was new to Ivo, as was celibacy, and he soaped up his cock and thought what the hell.