Oliver zips up his tracksuit top and glances around the swimming pool one last time. Switching off the lights, he steps out into the sunshine. Even though it’s still early, there’s a promise of a good day ahead. He pulls the door to and sets off up the path towards the house. Out of the corner of his eye he sees movement and his attention is drawn to the lake at the edge of the forest. Two moorhens emerge from the reeds, closely followed by half a dozen chicks. He stops and smiles. New life! The moorhen chicks are a tiny version of their parents. Their red and yellow beaks show up clearly against the green water as they move across the surface keeping close to the two adult birds. One chick, more independent than its siblings, remains amongst the reeds, investigating and dabbling at the weeds. As the parents and their brood reach the safety of the small island in the middle of the lake, one of the adults gives an urgent, rapid call. Suddenly, the errant youngster emerges from amongst the vegetation, calling out its high-pitched answer. Oliver watches, fascinated, as it efficiently navigates its way to the island, once again finding safety within the security of its family. As he gazes at the scene, he notices two young roe deer lying in the long grass to one side of the lake, their coats russet-gold as they bask in early morning sunlight. They eye him suspiciously, alert to the least signs of danger and ready for flight. All is well with the world… at least, out here. Oliver turns and resumes his journey to the house.
It’s hard to believe that Hunter’s Moon is only thirty miles from the centre of London, so peaceful and timeless is the scene he’s just witnessed. How fortunate they were to have found this substantial house with accompanying land so early on in their married life. Set on the edge of an affluent village in the Surrey Hills, close enough to the airports to enable him to continue his international career with ease, the property has provided a haven in which his family has led as normal a life as possible; one grounded in the countryside and away from the excesses surrounding his chosen career. But the children are growing up fast. What will it be like living here without them? He glances up at the ornate chimneys rising above the roofline, reaching to the clear blue sky. Will Deanna and he rattle around in it, only passing in hallways that resound with the haunting echoes of children who used to inhabit its spaces? As the ‘grey mist’ threatens to descend, with superhuman effort Oliver casts aside the seeping, nagging doubts. Stepping up onto the stone terrace, he takes one last look down to the lake before opening the back door. Sebastian and Jamie sit at the kitchen table.
‘Hey, Dad, is it you or Mum taking me to football practice this morning?’ asks Sebastian through a mouthful of cornflakes.
‘Probably me,’ says Oliver. ‘Your mother has a few things to do today.’
‘Can I come with you?’ asks Jamie.
‘Sure.’
The young lad beams.
‘Be ready in an hour,’ Oliver says, glancing up at the wall clock as he exits the kitchen.
He makes his way to his study and checks his emails. The most interesting one is from Zennor, saying she will be at the old coastguard cottages on Saturday to hand over the keys. He replies, advising that he expects to be on The Lizard around eleven, traffic permitting. She immediately responds with a large smiley face emoji. He glances up at Cara’s paintings, as he always does, before leaving his study. Checking the other downstairs rooms, he eventually discovers Deanna in the cinema room rifling through a number of DVDs.
‘What are you looking for?’ Oliver enquires.
She doesn’t immediately respond and a sickeningly familiar knot forms in his stomach.
Deanna focuses on the task in hand. ‘I’m looking for a film one of the actors has featured in.’
‘Oh, who’s that?’ Oliver asks with interest.
‘Just someone who’s recently joined the company,’ she replies without looking up. ‘Ah, here it is! I knew I’d seen it somewhere.’ Turning the DVD case over in her hand, Deanna studies the blurb on the back.
Oliver perches on the arm of a couch. The room is a glorious space, stylish and elegant, with floor-to-ceiling mullioned windows. They had the original wooden shutters painstakingly restored and these now frame a beautiful vista of the North Downs in the background. Deanna insisted the room was painted a Wedgwood blue, with the ornate detailing of the white coving and ceiling roses picked out in the same colour. A number of colour-coordinated couches, their cushions plump and inviting, are scattered around the room. A large cinema screen dominates the wall at the far end and lining one wall, row upon row, mahogany bookshelves are home to hundreds of DVDs and 35mm film reels.
‘I told Seb I’d take him to football practice,’ Oliver says. ‘I thought you’d have a lot on your plate today.’
‘What? Oh, yes,’ Deanna says, still absorbed in the DVD cover.
‘And Jamie’s coming too.’
‘That’s good. He never knows what to do with himself.’
Oliver frowns. There’s no need to be so dismissive of their youngest son. He stares at his wife. There’s something closed off about her this morning. She’s probably punishing him for last night. As Deanna turns to leave, Oliver catches hold of her arm. He will offer an olive branch.
She freezes.
‘Sorry I arrived after you last night, Dee.’
‘Sorry isn’t good enough, Oliver,’ Deanna says, making eye contact for the first time.
‘I was called away,’ he explains. ‘Anyway, there was no harm done. The boys told me they enjoyed their evening with Amy.’
Deanna coolly surveys her husband. ‘But I told you. You need to actively embrace this challenge and put some effort into making our new life work. It’s not as if I didn’t give you plenty of warning I’d be back late. I expected you to be here.’ Incredulously, she adds, ‘I didn’t dream for one minute you’d pass over responsibility of your sons to a babysitter and go out!’
Examining the hard set of his wife’s jaw and the steel in her eyes, Oliver is momentarily transported back to ‘little boy lost’ under the gaze of his mother’s disapproval. But he is no longer that boy, and Deanna is not his mother. Letting go of her arm, he rises to his feet.
‘Life doesn’t always revolve around you, Deanna,’ he says in a level voice. ‘If I have to be elsewhere and all bases are covered, then where’s the problem in that? As you well know, I have never been neglectful of my children. If anyone’s now guilty of that it is you.’
‘Me?’ Deanna splutters, as two angry red dots appear on her cheeks. ‘How dare you? You selfish, ungrateful, uncaring brute of a man!’
Oliver takes a step back from the full force of her animosity.
Deanna marches towards the door. Before exiting the room, she turns and looks back at her husband. ‘Are you really so jealous of me now that I have a career?’
Oliver sighs. ‘No, Deanna, not jealous. I’m pleased you’ve found something that fulfils you, but I am not your puppet and I will not be dictated to. If we can all learn to be flexible, this life you’ve presented us with will work. If you cannot agree to be flexible, then it won’t. It’s as simple as that.’
Deanna stares at Oliver. Life in the theatre is satisfying and rewarding, and she loves spending time in the company of Pins and his friends. They are fast becoming like family. In fact, during the week she hardly has time to think about her real family at all, so busy is she carving out a brand-new life for herself. She knows she has Pins to thank for that. He initially sowed the seed and suggested she revisited the career that was cut off before it had the chance to take root. Now her abilities can fully develop. No longer does she have to play second fiddle to Oliver’s fame. She can step up to the person she truly is.
‘You obviously haven’t noticed,’ she says in an ice-cool voice, ‘but I have been flexible throughout our marriage. Perhaps it’s you, Oliver, who needs to bend a bit more.’
With her head held high, Deanna sweeps imperiously from the room, leaving only a disturbance of disdain in her wake.
Oliver looks on in amazement. Who the hell is this woman, and what has she done with his wife?