‘Maybe I should get a flowery apron, after all,’ I joked, but rather than laughing, he sighed.
‘I don’t mean it like that.’
I dragged my eyes up to meet his again.
‘I know you don’t, sorry. Thank you, it was a nice thing to say. Come on, let’s make these syrups or we’ll run out of time.’
We got back to work, and I ruminated as I watched the bubbling sugary water. What Alexander had said, although clearly meant to be complimentary, had made me feel very uncomfortable. Secretly I knew that therewasa nurturing side to me, one that got immense pleasure from looking after and helping others, but if I could explain it away as ‘just doing my job’, it made it more palatable. If it was work, then mistakes could be absorbed as part of the process, and although I cared greatly about my clients and their happiness, I didn’t make myself vulnerable by loving them. My reverie was sharply interrupted.
‘Fallon! It’s boiling over!’
I quickly turned off the heat and whipped the saucepan away, smiling wryly. For all my pretences, I couldn’t even look after a pan of syrup!
Douglas and Mum arrived home with Theo shortly after we had both our fragrant syrups steeping. Theo was full of his morning at the sanctuary, and I was going to leave him to tell Alexander about it, when he stopped me.
‘Fallon, don’t you want to hear about my morning? I want to tell you about the amazing falcon I saw, right up close.’
Surprised, and not a little flattered, I sat down and listened while he described his visit. I looked around at the faces smiling at Theo as he chattered on; even Mum had a fond smile on her face, and I don’t think I’ve seen one of those since she lent the Victoria & Albert Museum a handbag for a fashion exhibition. She was gladder to get that bag back than she ever was when I came home from boarding school at the end of term.
‘And Linnet is really nice,’ he continued enthusiastically. ‘She doesn’t talk much, but that’s fine. She showed me how to pick up a hedgehog today.’
I glanced over at Alexander and found him already looking at me, his eyes moist. He shook his head as if to clear it and returned his attention to his son.
‘Anyway,’ continued Theo, ‘I want to go back tomorrow because we’re releasing a hawk – she’s better now. I can go, can’t I?’
‘Of course you can,’ said Alexander. ‘Fallon and I are doing well with our work, so I’m sure I can spare a morning – if that’s all right with you?’ He turned to me, and I nodded.
‘Yes, we’ve got everything in motion now, so we’re just waiting for things to turn up and then we’ll be busy again.’
To my astonishment, Theo, who I was sitting next to on the sofa, turned and hugged me, briefly burying his head in my shoulder. I don’t think I have ever been hugged by a child – well, not since I was a child myself – and I had no idea what to do. For a moment, my hands sorted of flapped impotently, then I lowered them and patted his back awkwardly. He showed no signs of letting go and, eventually, I began to relax, until I was hugging him back.
‘I’m glad you like the sanctuary so much,’ I said, as he eventually broke away. He didn’t reply, just nodded, then stood and went over to his father, hiding his face in his chest. For once I was grateful when Mum took over.
‘Fallon, our afternoon activities await. We can get lunch, if you need it, in a little bistro near the masseuse.’
I put my head on one side and pursed my lips.
‘Mum, you’ve known me for thirty-five years. Ialwaysneed lunch.’
To her credit, and my eternal amazement, she smiled.
‘Well, quite. I could do with a bite myself. Come along then.’
The bistro turned out to be more of a gastro pub, which suited me, particularly after the long, cold walk that morning and all the sharing of past hurts that had gone on between Alexander and me. I ordered scampi and chips and tucked in gladly when it arrived. Mum picked at a Caesar salad – no dressing – and regarded me owlishly.
‘Can you really eatallthat?’ she asked, delicately removing the yolk from a hardboiled egg and putting it to one side.
‘Absolutely,’ I said, dipping a perfectly crunchy double cooked chip into the ketchup. ‘It’s delicious. Don’t worry, I won’t spoil your secret and credit any of my new-found rosy cheeks to this rather than your herbal tea.’
She put down her fork.
‘Areyou beginning to feel better? I know you don’t think I care – you think this is all for my own publicity – but I have been worried about you, darling. You’ve been looking very peaky.’
The old defensiveness rose up inside me, but, for once, I checked it. Maybe what felt to me like criticism was just her way of looking out for me?
‘I am feeling better,’ I said. ‘It was a good idea to come up here, so thanks for bringing me.’
A rare, enormous, beautiful smile – one that risked too much deepening of any nascent crow’s feet around her eyes to be produced very often – came over her face.
