Tom stares at me, eyes slightly narrowed as they focus on my own, unnerving in their stillness. I stare right back, but fear I’m coming across as petrified rather than ready to do battle. I think I catch the tiniest movement from the corner of my eye; perhaps it’s Tom’s fingers flexing, or perhaps I’m imagining it. Either way, my eyes flick down to Tom’s right hand and that’s when he senses my concentration is broken. It happens in a flash – one second we’re standing perfectly still, our eyes the only weapons as we psyche each other out (or at least attempt to, in my case), and the next the fat, red missile is arcing through the air, whizzing its way towards me. With a yelp, I leap out of the way, my arms reaching up to shield my face in a raised X-Factor-style symbol. I hear the pop and splash as the water balloon makes contact with the ground, feel a couple of drops of water on my calf, but I’m safe. More than safe, in fact. Still clutching a water balloon of my own, I now have the upper hand. I may be crap at the staring thing, but I’m now the only one left with a weapon.
With a roar, I pull my arm back and fling my water balloon at Tom, aiming for his torso. Even before it’s made contact with either body or ground, I’m pounding my way across the soggy grass to grab a new balloon from the bucket at the edge of the battleground.
Once the Twister tournament was over with, we’d moved on to Giant Jenga before letting off some steam in a game of dodgeball, water balloon-style. Somehow, Tom and I have ended up as the last people standing, pitted against each other on opposing teams. Our teammates, who have all been hit and therefore knocked out of the game, are shouting and cheering from the sidelines. I can’t tell what they’re saying as the noise has merged into one roar of encouragement.
I chance a glance at Tom. The balloon has missed and he’s also grabbing a fresh balloon from his team’s bucket. I step back, treading over the spent balloons, scattered across the grass like brightly coloured confetti thrown a couple of days too early. The ground is soft underfoot, squidgy in patches from the mini explosions of water.
The volume of the sideline roar suddenly increases, and I know, without looking, that a balloon is heading my way. I make a leap for it, throwing my body sideways like a goalie, landing in an inelegant heap on the damp – and now a bit muddy – ground. And if that wasn’t humiliating enough, the water balloon hits me – with unnecessary force, I think – right on the arse. There’s another surge in the roar from our teammates – but thankfully from victory and loss rather than laughter.
‘Sorry,’ Tom calls as he jogs towards me. He doesn’t look sorry, the git. He’s grinning from ear to bloody ear, but then so am I. I can’t help seeing the funny side. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m a bit soggy.’ I grimace at the wet patch I can feel along the length of my right thigh. How many balloons did we get through? A lake’s worth? ‘But I’ll live.’
‘Are you hurt?’ The others have gathered around us, with Tom crouching in front of me, concern etched on his face. He reaches out and helps me to my feet, leading me to one side.
‘I’m fine, honestly,’ I tell him as he looks me over, searching for any obvious damage. ‘I’ve just knocked my wrist a bit. It’s nothing serious.’ I hold out my hand, bending it back and forth to prove my point.
Tom takes my hand gently in his. I must have been exerting myself even more than I thought out there because my heart is hammering in my chest.
‘Are you sure?’
I nod. ‘Absolutely.’
Tom brings my hand to his lips, kissing my wrist softly. My heart rate takes it up a notch. It’s actually starting to feel quite painful. I hope I haven’t done myself an injury.
‘There. All better?’
I nod, not making any effort to remove my hand. ‘All better.’
‘Good.’ Tom is still holding my hand. My heart is still galloping. ‘You were quite the competitor, you know.’
‘I was, wasn’t I?’ I’m amazed by this fact as sports really isn’t my thing. Alice, on the other hand, loves getting physical and she was out quite quickly. Perhaps her sportiness made her an instant target. Being rubbish at physical exercise does have its advantages, it seems, apart from the fact I may be on the brink of a heart attack from the effort I put in.
‘Not that you’d sing your own praises about it or anything.’ Tom grins at me and I laugh.
‘Nah, course not.’
He’s still holding my hand, I realise, his thumb now making the tiniest strokes along my fingers, sending delicious little sparks of electricity through my entire body. I should pull away. I know I should. This is wrong. Any yet…
‘Sorry about that.’ I feel an arm around my shoulder, pulling me in tight. It’s Archie, back from his work call, and I have to fight the urge to shove him off me. ‘Did I miss much, babe?’
Babe? Ugh.
‘I should be getting back to work.’ Tom has finally released my hand, and raises his own in farewell. ‘I’ll see you tonight?’
‘Yes.’ I manage to shift away from Archie’s grasp without it seeming too obvious. ‘I’ll see you tonight.’ I watch as he slopes away, my heart rate only slowing when he disappears out of sight.
Alice’s mood had improved after the Twister match, but it’s plummeted again by the time she finds me holed up in the library, where I’ve been sitting by the window with an extremely interesting book on the heritage of Durban Castle and the wider area of Little Heaton while Alice had a pre-dinner Skype session with Kevin. She flops onto the window seat beside me with a heavy sigh.
‘Your chat didn’t go well, then?’
Alice shrugs as she looks out onto the tennis courts. ‘It was fine. It’s just…’ She sighs again. ‘I’m not sure how much more Kevin will put up with.’
‘But you’re going to tell your family about him soon. Right? Did you tell him that?’
Alice grimaces. ‘Not exactly.’
‘Why not?’
Alice shuffles right back on the seat so she can draw her knees up to her chin, hugging her calves with her arms. ‘It’s not that simple.’
‘Isn’t it?’
Alice gives me a look. ‘You of all people should know that family dynamics can be complicated.’ I flinch, but she has a point. ‘I’m scared Francelia will drive a wedge between us – she really can’t stand to see me happy – but I’m also scared I’ll drive Kevin away myself if I keep shoving him aside.’ She sighs. ‘I really don’t know what to do for the best.’ She drops her face into her hands with a groan. ‘Why can’t life be simple?’
I wish I knew the answer to that one.
‘You need to tell them, Alice, before it eats away at your relationship.’
I’m talking from experience here; I always kept my two worlds separate, with my relationships on one side and my mother on the other. I never let the two collide, not even with Edward, and in the end it destroyed us.
‘I know.’ Alice nods, but I’m not convinced. ‘And I will.’ She pats me on the knee and stands up. ‘Shall we go down to dinner? I said we’d meet Archie at six.’
Great, I think as I return the book to its shelf. Dinner with Archie is just what I need right now.
It’s already starting to grow dark and there’s a faint whiff of smoke in the air as we make our way outside after dinner. I’m immediately taken back to childhood Bonfire Nights, shifting from the injustice of being cooped up inside, imagining all the fun everyone else was having while I sat in Great Aunt Dorothy’s claustrophobically cluttered living room, to the mad parties Mum would throw in the back garden, the atmosphere as well as the bonfire on the brink of becoming out of control. Both sets of memories are as ghastly as the other in their own ways, so I’m looking forward to adding at least one good bonfire party to recollect in the future.
The bonfire is massive – even bigger than the bonfire that spread across to the neighbour’s shed one year. Mum had laughed hysterically as the flames licked the sky. The neighbour had not. And neither had I when it resulted in another extended stay with Great Aunt Dorothy. I was there until after Christmas, which wasn’t much fun at all once we’d run out of the sitcoms’ festive specials to watch. Plus, Great Aunt Dorothy made me dress up in a scratchy dress to attend the church service on Christmas morning instead of opening my presents – though at least there were presents to open later on, which wasn’t a given at home, and I did secretly enjoy the stocking filled with fruit and shiny coins. I wish she hadn’t forced me to eat those three soggy Brussel sprouts though…
The bonfire at Durban Castle is made up of the neat, triangular wooden structure Tom and I made earlier. There isn’t a half-charred mattress or armchair in sight, and I doubt anyone will be throwing aerosol cans into the flames for a laugh. There’s a hot chocolate station set up to one side, which consists of a huge urn filled with the warm chocolatey drink, bottles of different flavoured syrups, squirty cream, and bowls filled with mini marshmallows, and white, dark and milk chocolate shavings. Alice and I head straight over, and I pick up one of the mismatched mugs from the large collection, filling it with hot chocolate and orange syrup before topping it with marshmallows, cream and milk chocolate shavings. I take a look around the field as I lick the creamy moustache from my top lip after my first sip. A large crowd has already gathered, and I see Tom ahead, blowing on his own hot chocolate as he watches the dancing flames of the bonfire. I want to go over and say hello, but I’m afraid after the hand-holding this afternoon. Or rather, the way it made me feel.
Alice threads her free arm through mine. ‘Shall we go and find the toasted marshmallows?’
I tear my eyes away from Tom, hoping Alice hasn’t spotted me gazing across at him. ‘Obviously. They’re the reason I’m here.’
It definitely has nothing to do with the brooding, handsome gardener.
Nothing at all.
‘Hey, Carolyn.’ Alice waves her sister over as she passes on her way to the hot chocolate station. ‘Where are the toasted marshmallows at?’
‘They’re on the other side of the bonfire.’ Carolyn points at the dancing flames. ‘Piers has taken charge. He’s gone all caveman about it. They’re apparently the best toasted marshmallows in the history of toasted marshmallows.’ Carolyn rolls her eyes. ‘You know what he’s like. I may have to tease him a little bit and tell him they’re too gooey – as if that’s even possible. The more gooey the better, right?’
Piers doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would take a gentle ribbing too well. Tom and I tease each other, and that’s fine, it’s all fun, but I can’t imagine a lighter side to Piers at all. Carolyn must clock my look of incomprehension, because she feels the need to reassure me of their excellence.
‘They really are delicious. And anything served on a stick doesn’t contain any calories, right?’ She grins at us. ‘I’m thinking about having them as my craving when we get pregnant.’
‘Um, you don’t get to choose your cravings,’ Alice says.
Carolyn winks at her sister. ‘That’s what you think.’
Alice laughs and shakes her head. ‘Are you going to start trying straight away then? Because I can totally see myself as an aunty. It’ll be fun.’
I’m not entirely sure I agree with that. I doubt Great Aunt D found it fun being lumbered with me for weeks – sometimes months – on end while Mum got her shit together.
‘Not straight away, no, but it’s something we both want in the next few years. We’re off to Denmark next month to start my new job, so I want to get settled there before we even think about babies. Besides, Piers wants the children to be born here, so you’ll have to wait a bit longer, Aunty Alice.’
‘Speaking of waiting, can we get a move on?’ Alice starts to edge towards Piers’ infamous bonfire treats, but I remain still.
‘I’m not that hungry, actually.’ I place a hand on my stomach. ‘I had way too much of that cheesecake for dessert. I might just go and veg out on one of those deckchairs.’ I point back towards the castle, where a row of chairs and blankets has been set out. ‘I’ll grab one later.’
‘Are you sure?’ Alice asks, but I’m already backing away.
It’s started to turn cool now it’s dark, so I wrap my hands around my warm mug. ‘I’m sure. I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?’
Carolyn holds up a hand in farewell as she’s tugged away. I wait until they’ve disappeared around the other side of the bonfire before I make my way over to the deckchairs. I settle myself into one (and fear I will never get back out of it again) and sip my hot chocolate. I can see Tom ahead, still watching the mesmerising flicker of the flames. I wonder if he’s invited Lydia along this evening. My stomach rolls uncomfortably, which is either caused by the prospect of seeing Tom with his pregnant fiancée, or from really eating too much cheesecake.
I place my hot chocolate on the ground carefully before reaching for a blanket from the neighbouring deckchair, feeling its woolly warmth as soon as I drape it around my shoulders.
‘I used to love coming here on New Year’s Eve.’ I hadn’t realised Tom had approached, so I start. ‘It was a lot colder, obviously, but we’d layer up and bring blankets out.’ He picks up a blanket of his own and settles down in the deckchair next to mine. ‘The castle’s usually hired out for corporate events or weddings these days, so I have to make do with the Royal Oak, which isn’t quite the same.’
‘What was it like? Growing up so close to a real-life castle?’
In my head, it’s magical. It’s every fairy tale happily ever after come to life. It’s the sense of calm, of security and contentedness. It’s a far cry from the childhood I had, where I didn’t know whether I’d spend the night at Mum’s or Aunt Dorothy’s, where I couldn’t keep up with the barrage of men I’d find smoking at the kitchen table, as though Mum had a revolving door for boyfriends to pass through. Sometimes, I didn’t even find out their names before they moved on, but I always had to deal with the fallout.
‘It was bloody hard work, to be honest.’ Tom laughs at my surprised face. ‘I mean, it was lovely hanging out with Alice and Carolyn, obviously, but it also meant I had to learn Dad’s trade. I love it now, but back then I wanted to climb trees, not prune them. I wanted to paddle in the stream and play truth or dare in the woods, but there was always something to do.’
‘It can’t have been that bad if you stuck around to work here.’ I pick up my drink and blow on it before taking a tentative sip, trying to avoid covering my lip in cream again.
‘Like I said, I love it now. It’s my dream job. I’m glad I’m not one of those people who despises their job.’
I wipe my lip, just in case. ‘Me too. Teaching isn’t for everyone, but I love it.’
‘I bet you love the long stretch of the summer holidays,’ Tom says and I roll my eyes.
‘Says you with your outdoorsy job. I bet you can’t get a more beautiful setting.’
Tom shakes his head. ‘Nope. I wouldn’t trade this job for anything.’
I glance sideways at him. ‘Do you still want to play truth or dare in the woods?’
Tom laughs and nudges me gently. ‘You mock, but it was actually a lot of fun.’ He indicates the woods in the distance. ‘I had my first kiss in there during a game of truth or dare.’
‘Alice?’
Tom shakes his head and I suppress a giggle.
‘Archie?’
‘Piss off,’ Tom says, but he’s laughing again. ‘It was Carolyn. We were twelve and I thought it was the most disgusting thing ever.’
‘I’m sure Carolyn would be delighted to hear that.’
‘She thought the same thing. Doesn’t everybody when it’s their first kiss?’
I shrug. ‘Fair point.’
My eyes are drawn to Tom’s lips. I can’t help it, not when we’re talking about kissing. It’s a reflexive instinct, that’s all. Tom’s eyes meet mine, and I feel myself blush, as though I’ve been caught out. I adjust the blanket around me, feeling exposed suddenly.
‘So, what do you love most about teaching? Apart from the summer holidays?’
‘It’s the kids.’ Tom quirks an eyebrow at me, and I laugh. ‘Seriously. I mean, some of them are horrors – a lot of them, in fact – but then you have the great kids, the sweet ones, the ones who show so much potential.’ I pull the blanket even tighter around me. ‘And then there are the vulnerable kids. The kids with holey jumpers, the ones who “forget” to bring pens and pencils to every lesson because they can’t spare that little bit of money to buy any. The kids who turn up to school with empty stomachs, not because they rolled out of bed late and didn’t have time to grab breakfast, but because there simply isn’t any food in the house for them to eat. They have shitty lives and most of them don’t believe for a second that it can be any different. They think this is it, for ever. They don’t have the faintest clue they can change their paths in life, never mind know how to go about it. If I can help in the tiniest way, then I’ve done a good job.’
‘Wow.’ Tom puffs up his cheeks. ‘My job feels totally unworthy now.’
‘Are you kidding? You make people happy. You make this place beautiful. Plus, you taught me how to build a massive bonfire.’ I turn to watch the flames of the fire rise and flicker. ‘You taught me about kindling and tinder and… that other kind of wood.’
Tom barks with sudden laughter. ‘I clearly did an amazing job.’
I shrug, trying not to giggle myself. ‘Blame the student, not the teacher. I’m not outdoorsy, remember?’
I recall a similar conversation earlier, in the woods, where Tom alluded to his assumption that Archie and I had enjoyed one another’s company under the umbrella tree, and it feels like I’m standing too close to the bonfire. I’m too hot. Too short of breath. I want to tell Tom the truth, to convince him that nothing happened between me and Archie– and it never would. But I don’t get the chance to say a word as a sudden shriek of distress pierces the air.