Eddie pushed the door open. ‘Mother, Father. May I have a word?’ he said and stepped inside.
Evie felt like every second was a year and she’d be old and grey by the time she saw her brother once more. He’s been in there far too long, she thought. All her worries were about to come to a head when the door opened and Eddie reappeared, completely unharmed.
‘What happened? What did they say?’
Eddie grabbed her by the arm and started to push her towards the front door, rather forcefully.
‘What’s going on, Eddie? Didn’t you tell them?’
‘Of course … well … sort of. They don’t know yet.’ He spoke quickly, his cheeks red and hot.
‘You couldn’t do it?’ Evie felt disappointed, but she knew she couldn’t push him to do it if he wasn’t ready.
‘No, no, I could! I just—’ Before Eddie could continue, their mother let out a scream from the living room that shook the very foundations of the house.
‘I gave us a head start,’ he said.
The door burst open and there stood their father, his face puce, the veins on his neck close to bursting. In his sweaty hand was a crumpled piece of paper, which he balled up and threw at Eddie. He missed, and Evie caught it in the crook of her arm. She quickly unfolded it and read:
Mother and Father,
I like men so I’ll be moving out. Maybe one day you’ll be decent human beings and accept me as I am, but until then, fuck you.
Eddie
Evie was sure that Eleanor’s sobbing and wailing could be heard for miles, but the noise was rivalled by Edward Snow’s pounding footsteps as he charged towards them.
‘Go!’ Eddie pushed Evie out of the front door, following close behind. They ran straight into Jim, who had come to collect them to drive them to the new house. ‘Car!’ they both screeched at him. ‘Get in the car!’
Jim panicked, and slipped down the front steps, but the Snow siblings picked him up and thrust him towards the vehicle piled high with their belongings. Evie clambered into the back of the car with the boxes, and Jim started the engine before Eddie had even closed his door. For most of the way down the drive, Eddie was hanging out of the passenger seat, dangerously close to slipping out onto the road.
Evie thought it couldn’t have gone any worse, but when at last Eddie got a grip on the handle and slammed the door shut, he yelled for joy, hit the dashboard with his fists in celebration and laughed all the way home.
A Surprise Awaits
James Summer Senior passed away just after Isla was born. Jim was sad that his father never got to meet her, but he was also glad that Isla wouldn’t have to grow up in the shadow of such a cold and unloving man. Evie’s father passed away three years later, and only a few months after that, Eleanor joined him, wherever he was. Jim and Evie attended the funerals, but few tears were shed by anyone. Evie would miss her parents, as any daughter would, but her world became far less complicated now that they were gone.
When August was ten years old and Isla five, Evie and Jim felt it was time to sell their house by the sea and move back to look after Jim’s mother, Jane. The Snows’ house had been left to Evie in her parents’ will, but she refused to go back to a place that had been more of a cage to her than a home. She handed the keys over to Eddie, who was overwhelmed by the thought of having his own place to share with the love of his life.
Oliver Hart was a humble boy who had grown up in the seaside town they’d moved to and worked in a café on the promenade. Eddie had gone in there mainly because he kept being given free coffee, but when Evie accompanied him one day and pointed out who was responsible for the generous gesture, Eddie couldn’t catch his breath. Oliver was full-faced, partial to chunky knitwear, and cut his own hair as well as his father’s, making them look oddly alike. Eddie had enjoyed meeting new people who shared his interests, not just in men but in every aspect of his life that he’d never been allowed to explore before now. He’d dated various guys whom Evie had loved, thinking her brother’s taste in men wasn’t unlike her own. Evie had wondered aloud what was wrong with each guy every time Eddie announced they’d parted ways and he’d just reply ‘when you know, you just know’. This time, Eddie knew. Oliver was the man for him and Oliver seemed to feel the same about Eddie. Their relationship developed without any complications which couldn’t have pleased Evie more. Even Oliver’s dad was accepting of their relationship.
Although Evie refused to live in the Snows’ old house, there was still something she was curious to see, so she agreed to go with Eddie to look at the place before he and Oliver moved in. As they drove up the driveway, her questions were answered.
‘What is that?’ Eddie asked.
They all bent their heads to look through the windscreen. Behind the house they could see a huge tree with dozens of long and twisted branches.
‘Beats me,’ Evie said with a knowing smile that caught Jim’s attention as he pulled on the handbrake. ‘Right, kids! Wanna see where Mummy and Uncle Eddie grew up?’
Isla cheered; August, humming and tapping out melodies with his fingers on his knee, missed the second half of the sentence but followed his Uncle Eddie anyway. Eddie ran up the steps, excited to open the door with the keys for the first time since the house had become his. He fist-pumped the air with both hands and fakecheered at Jim and Evie, who were watching from the car. Then he picked up Isla and took August by the hand, and started telling them ridiculous made-up stories about his childhood.
‘All right, what’s going on, you?’ Jim asked, once Eddie and the children had disappeared into the house.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Evie couldn’t look him in the eye, but she also couldn’t keep the smile off her face.
‘I know that smile. It’s the “Evie knows something no one else does” smile, and it drives me mad!’ He laughed, only half joking.
‘I’ll tell you later. You’re going to need to look for yourself first.’ She got out of the car, but not before she’d poked her tongue out at him.
Evie couldn’t contain herself. She ran straight through the house, unlatched the back door and dashed out into the garden. At the end of the lawn, pushing through the centre of the plain, boring hedge that bordered the garden, was a tree that stood a good ten feet taller than the house. It was dark brown, with a strange orange sheen to its bark. There were a few leaves on its branches, yet none on the ground beneath it. Evie wondered if it would ever bloom. She couldn’t wait to see how it would look, or what would grow on it, if anything.
‘Can it really be?’ she asked out loud. When she touched the tree’s trunk, she could feel the warmth radiating from every crack in its bark, and the unmistakable beat of her own heart pulsed faintly underneath her palm. The tree’s branches shuddered, knowing that its owner had finally returned.
‘What kind of tree is that?’ August called from the centre of the lawn, his fingers still playing mindless melodies by his sides. Jim stood behind their son, watching Evie being welcomed home.
‘A special one, no doubt,’ he said, and he smiled at his wife, still trying to figure her out.
‘It’s average, at best,’ she shrugged, ‘but it’s good. It’s a good tree.’
August tilted his head at the strange interaction between his parents. ‘It’s just a tree,’ he said, furrowing his brow and squinting up at the highest branches.
‘It’s not just anything! Some might say you’re just a child, but are you?’ Evie ran to him, picked him up and tickled him.
‘No!’ he laughed.
‘What are you, then?’ she asked, setting him down on his feet and kneeling in front of him, not caring that the grassy dew was soaking into her tights. She looked him square in the eyes, pretending to be menacing.
‘Anything I want to be,’ he said, reciting back with a nod what Evie had told him a million times.
‘Exactly. Well, I once told this tree it could be anything it wanted to be, and it decided to be good.’ Evie pressed his nose
once with her finger.
‘OK,’ August said, understanding. ‘It’s a good tree.’
‘I think it’s the Good Tree,’ Jim said. ‘Probably one of a kind.’ He, like his son, was beginning to understand. Thunder rumbled in the distance. ‘Let’s get inside before that reaches us.’ He pointed to the angry clouds looming closer in the sky.
‘Awww, but I like rain!’ August moaned as Jim ushered him towards the back door.
‘You’re so much like your mother.’ Jim rolled his eyes affectionately towards Evie, who glanced back at the tree one last time before joining her family indoors.
Oliver joined Eddie at the house later that day, and Evie and Jim left them to their first night officially living together and drove the almost pointlessly short distance to Jim’s mother’s house, which was to be their new home.
As soon as Jim stepped inside, he stopped short in the hallway and gazed around in disbelief. ‘Why are the walls … blue?’ Jim was so used to the house being dull and grey, full of stuffed and mounted animal heads from his father’s hunting trips. Now the walls were wallpapered in a pleasant blue dotted with violets, and Jane Summer rushed towards them in a bright pink silk trouser suit and startled them all.
‘I needed a change. I also needed a life, so I went out and got one. No more being held back. Oh, I can’t believe how good it is to see you!’ She flung her arms around her son and then the rest of the family in turn. Isla and August loved the attention, but Evie and Jim were stunned.
‘Mother … what on earth has happened?’
Jane stood between the children, covered their outside ears with her hands and pressed their other ears against her body so they couldn’t hear her say, ‘Your father died. That’s what happened. I loved him, I truly did, but I spent the best part of my life doing everything for him and putting my own life on hold. No more!’ she said with a flourish and let the children go, not realising they had, in fact, heard every word. They ran off into the house, giggling at mad Grandma Jane.
‘Mother, I … I …’
Jane braced herself for her son’s opinion.
‘I couldn’t be happier for you!’
‘Me too!’ Evie said, embracing her for a second time, loving the idea that Jane might now be more of a mother figure to her, and a proper grandmother to the children.
Jane wiped away a tear. ‘Well, what are you waiting for? Come in and see what I’ve done to the rest of the house!’
They emptied the car and the van, chose whose room was whose and fell asleep quite quickly due to the long drive, the exertion of lifting all the heavy boxes and trying to explain to a tired, sulking Isla why August should have the bigger room. Thunder rumbled through the night and rain pounded the roof and Isla dreamed of lots of tiny people knocking on the roof to come in and make friends.
The following morning, Evie came downstairs to find Eddie and Oliver in the kitchen chatting away to Jane, who was laughing hysterically at Oliver’s jokes.
‘Morning, all. Everything OK here?’ Evie asked, mainly directing the question at Eddie, wondering how Jane was taking to the couple standing in her kitchen – or if, indeed, she even realised they were gay.
‘Everything’s fine, dear. It was Jim’s father who had the old-fashioned take on life, not me!’ Jane grinned and touched Oliver’s arm in a way that seemed more flirty than accepting, but as long as she wasn’t screaming the house down like her own mother had, Evie was happy.
‘I baked a pie this morning.’ Eddie pushed a dish towards her, and the smell that wafted up from it had Evie’s stomach growling. ‘Oooh! Best brother ever!’
Jane handed her a knife. Evie cut herself a large slice, and as soon as the first forkful touched her lips, she knew something was odd. She kept chewing, not sure what flavour she was tasting or what fruit was in the filling.
‘What kind of pie is this?’ she said with her mouth full.
‘We have absolutely no idea,’ Oliver said, backing imperceptibly away from Jane, who wouldn’t take her eyes off him.
‘What?’ Evie said, setting the plate down, no longer trusting what she was swallowing. ‘I thought you baked it?’
‘We did,’ Oliver said. ‘But we got the fruit from that weird tree at the end of our garden. We looked it up and couldn’t find anything like it. We thought maybe cooking it might be better than just trying it on its own, so we baked it into a pie. What’s it like?’
‘OK, firstly, are you trying to kill me? What if it’s poisonous?’
Oliver glanced at Eddie. ‘Whoops,’ Eddie said apologetically. ‘We didn’t think of that. Are you feeling OK?’
‘I think I’m fine. I think. If I collapse, you’ll know why. Secondly, haven’t you tried it yourselves?’
Eddie shook his head. ‘I thought we could all try it together.’
‘Convenient that you made me go first.’ Evie pushed the pie dish towards them and took another, smaller forkful of her own slice. She dissected and inspected it, not really seeing much wrong with the fruit inside. It was a nice ripe orange colour and didn’t appear to be bad or mouldy. It just tasted unlike anything she’d ever eaten before but she knew she’d finish the slice without an issue. Evie watched as Eddie took his own big mouthful, but the moment his taste buds got a load of its flavour, he spat it into the sink behind him with an exclamation of disgust.
‘Holy smokes! Evie! I’m so sorry! Don’t eat any more. That’s the foulest thing I’ve ever had.’ He was already carrying the pie dish over to the bin when Oliver stopped him.
‘I gotta try this!’ Oliver took a piece of the fruit out of the open side of the pie with his fingers and popped it into his mouth. Evie hoped he’d like it, but he pulled the same faces and made the same noises as Eddie. He persevered through the taste and swallowed but could barely ask for a glass of water afterwards. Jane tried it too, and daintily spat her piece out into a tissue, trying not to offend Eddie and Oliver. One by one the whole family tasted the pie, and it seemed the only one who didn’t find its flavour completely repulsive was Evie.
‘Hang on,’ Jim said. ‘That tree was entirely bare yesterday. Are you sure this fruit came from that tree in particular?’
‘There’s only one tree in the garden, but come and see for yourselves!’ Eddie said.
Together, one Hart, one Snow and five Summers headed to Eddie’s garden, and through its few green leaves, they could see it was indeed completely covered in the strange fruit.
‘See?’ Eddie said, pointing up to the highest branches.
‘How odd,’ Evie said. ‘It must have liked the thunderstorm.’ She smiled, picking up an oval orange fruit from the ground.
It fitted perfectly within the palm of her hand. It was where it belonged.
Over the next few months, they all kept a watchful eye on the tree. They soon realised that it only ever bore fruit when thunder and lightning were ruling the skies. It had no seasonal order. It just loved the rain.
One day, Jim asked, ‘I wonder, how would it taste in jam?’ He was partial to strawberry jam on his toast in the mornings, but when Eddie tested the theory, it put Jim off toast for weeks. They tried pies and jellies, cakes and cookies, until eventually they gave up and the tree at the end of the garden simply remained the tree at the end of the garden. A tree that was pretty but useless, a tree that produced fruit that made everyone except Evie feel sick.
‘Isn’t it odd how the tree only grows fruit after a storm,’ August said one evening, tapping his fingers on the windowsill as he looked out through the rain. Jim stood beside him, and together they watched tiny orange spots appear on the highest dark brown branches that they could see all the way from their house. One by one the spots would soak up the rain and pop into the form of fruit. August giggled each time a new one burst to life, the popping sound audible from where they stood. Jim, though, knew that the tree was more than it seemed, although what it seemed was really quite extraordinary.
He knew there was something more behind its story.
/> ‘The tree likes to make the best out of a bad situation,’ Jim answered, looking at his wife who was sat by the fire in the armchair, pretending to read, but she couldn’t hide her smirk.
‘What do you think, Evie?’ Jim asked pointedly.
‘Seems that way.’ She shrugged without looking up from her book, still smirking.
‘August, I think it’s time for bed.’ The boy was about to run for the stairs, but Jim caught him by the scruff of his pyjama top and pulled him backwards into a hug. ‘Goodnight, rascal.’
‘Love you, Dad,’ August whispered.
‘Love you too.’
Once his son had scampered up to his room, Jim sat in the armchair opposite his wife. ‘That tree,’ he said.
‘Mmm?’ Evie turned a page.
‘It seems to be rather … familiar.’ Jim leaned his elbows on his knees to closely inspect her expression.
‘Mmm.’ Evie smiled.
‘Evie?’ he said with concern, and she looked up at him. ‘How did you grow it?’
Evie lost her playfulness a little when she thought about explaining her literal lack of a heart, and why she’d buried it in the garden. But she had to tell him. They didn’t keep secrets from one another. When she eventually found the words, Jim simply listened and nodded.
‘So the tree is so much like you because … well, it is you,’ he said, laughing. He held up a finger. ‘But why does the fruit taste so bad?’ He stuck out his tongue in disgust. Even the memory caused his taste buds to shudder.
‘Now that I can’t answer.’ Evie frowned.
‘You don’t know?’
‘I don’t know,’ she confirmed.
‘Just one more question.’
Evie nodded, enjoying sharing what she knew.
‘Are there any more secrets you’re hiding away, in your old house … or this one?’ Jim’s eyes darted about the room, looking for odd artefacts he’d not noticed before that might conceal untold truths, truths that would come teeming out like termites should they be removed from their rightful place.