‘Sorry, Vincent,’ Isla said, touching his arm apologetically.
‘Yes, sorry,’ August said sheepishly. ‘Don’t know what came over us. It does seem odd, though. The three of us all having dreams about Mum that have led us to things she hid for most of her life.’
‘If Evie remained anything like she was when I knew her,’ Vincent said quietly, not wanting to make Jim feel uncomfortable, ‘I wouldn’t put it past her to find a way to talk to us from another realm.’ He laughed.
‘Yes,’ Jim chimed in. ‘Much like you, Isla, she was always fighting against the odds and usually winning.’
Jim and Vincent shared a knowing look. Although they both knew it was completely impossible, neither man was willing to rule out the supernatural where Evie was involved, but Jim thought it best not to scare his imaginative son or argue with his realistic daughter.
‘So,’ Jim wiped his mouth, placed the napkin on the table next to his plate and looked at Vincent. ‘I think it’s time you saw this tree.’
As the sky darkened, three Summers and a Winters walked slowly through the woods with lanterns. Isla had called ahead, so Eddie and Oliver were on the porch waiting for them when they arrived. Vincent had never met Eddie, but for a while, he’d blamed him for the end of his relationship with Evie. Over time, he’d come to his senses and realised that Eddie had no idea how much his sister had really done for him, or how much she’d given up. Even so, he wasn’t sure how he was going to feel when he met him.
Although Vincent was well aware of how much time had passed since he’d packed his things and left Evie sleeping on the balcony, he had expected to be meeting the Eddie she had always talked about: a boy with bright eyes, barely old enough to drink. Instead he was greeted with the reality of a man in his seventies standing arm in arm with another elderly man, both of whom Vincent would have guessed were his own age had he seen them casually in the street. The gap between ages grows closer and closer as you get older, until decades seem like mere cracks in the pavement. Vincent, Jim, Eddie and Oliver were all old men. A fact they’d all deny until death, if death wasn’t so close.
‘Vincent.’ Eddie greeted him with a smile, but he held on tight to Oliver anxiously. ‘It really is a pleasure to meet you.’
‘And you, Eddie. I was once told so much about you, but that was more than fifty years ago now,’ Vincent said.
‘I doubt much has changed,’ Isla said, prodding Eddie with a finger.
The Summers’ house had been very much a family home where children had once played, and the rooms were still filled with nostalgia. However, although the Snows’ house had been occupied by Eddie and Oliver for so many years, and now by August and Daphne too, Vincent could feel an inexplicable chill in the air. Left behind by Evie’s mother, no doubt, he thought.
‘Lead the way, Eddie.’ Jim gestured for Vincent to follow Eddie through to the back door and into the garden.
Against the dark grey sky, the impressive tree loomed almost black. Vincent couldn’t quite believe the height of it, and his poor aching neck wasn’t able to crane up to see it in its entirety.
‘Wow …’ He laughed. ‘What have you been feeding that thing?’
As the wind whipped its branches and blew all around them, Vincent was sure he heard something out of the ordinary, but his hearing wasn’t what it used to be and he’d probably been mistaken. Still, he felt hot under the collar all of a sudden and leaned on his walking stick a little harder.
‘Are you OK?’ Isla asked, touching his arm, ready to catch him should he fall.
‘Yes, yes. Just a little warm, that’s all.’ Thunder rumbled overhead and the dark clouds shifted directly above them.
‘The rain should clear the humidity,’ Oliver said, feeling a couple of drops hit his forehead.
‘Vincent, do you have a little more time? I think you might want to stay for the storm.’ Jim smiled, an odd, knowing sort of smile that, despite feeling tired and overwhelmed, Vincent couldn’t resist.
‘Of course. Does the tree put on a show? Sing a song? Do a dance?’ he joked.
‘Better,’ Eddie said, before leading them all back into the house.
Jim had gestured to everyone, letting them know that they should leave him alone with Vincent for a little while. The two men sat in the armchairs by the fire, both of them taking their time lowering themselves into them, and laughing when they were finally seated with an oomph!
‘I think it’s best we both speak quite frankly … don’t you?’ Jim said, trying to hold his nerve. Outside, rain drizzled down the windows and thunder rumbled above the house. Vincent was sweating despite having taken off his black jacket. ‘Absolutely,’ he replied, undoing the top button on his shirt.
Jim took a deep breath before beginning. ‘Evie was an … extraordinary woman. She was a pain in the arse at times,’ Vincent nodded in agreement, ‘but she was extraordinary nonetheless and she did some inexplicable things in her lifetime – mostly good, some bad and some that no one will ever know the answers to but one of the most extraordinary things she ever did was plant that tree.’ Jim shifted in his seat to see if the others were eavesdropping, but it seemed they’d formed their own gathering in the kitchen to discuss Vincent’s unexpected arrival.
‘It’s a very impressive tree.’ Vincent shrugged, unsure of what else he could say. To tell the truth, he had been a little disappointed that he hadn’t found something that made the trip more worthwhile.
‘It’s more impressive than you think. Can I tell you a story?’ Jim was enjoying his chance to retell Evie’s tale. Vincent nodded, blinking slowly. ‘On the day Evie and I got married, before she walked down the aisle and before we said our vows, she ran to this house in her white dress and knelt in the mud at the bottom of the garden. She’d realised she could never give her heart to you, and she didn’t want to give it to me, so she decided she would never give it to anyone. There and then, she took her own heart out of her chest and buried it in the ground.’
Vincent suddenly felt more awake, and he sat up in his chair, looking at Jim with interest and a hint of amusement at what would have sounded like a tall tale if he hadn’t once known Evie.
Jim continued. ‘When we returned to this house ten years later, that tree had appeared, right on the spot where Evie had buried her heart.’ He was pleased to hear a muffled yet very familiar popping sound resonating through the house. ‘It was a tree that seemed familiar to us all, and yet none of us really knew why. A tree that was warm to the touch, a tree that whispered words of comfort when the wind caught its branches just right, a tree that only bore fruit after a thunderstorm because it liked to make the best …’
‘… out of a bad situation,’ they said in unison, and smiled.
‘You hear that?’ Jim asked.
Vincent strained his poor ears and could just about make out what sounded like corn kernels popping in a frying pan. ‘What is that?’ he asked.
‘I think you might want to take another look at the tree.’
Together they heaved themselves out of their chairs and walked to the back door. Vincent laughed heartily when he saw the orange fruit appearing on the branches, some popping to life so hard they immediately fell to the ground with a thud.
‘The only tree to guarantee a fruit basket every time it rains,’ he said, satisfied now that it was worth all the anxiety the trip had caused him.
‘If only it was edible,’ Jim said.
‘Is it poisonous?’ Vincent asked.
‘Not as such. It just tastes disgusting. You’re welcome to try it, should you wish.’
‘I’ll take your word for it …’ Vincent said, just as he heard Evie’s voice in his mind. A giant tree, taller than all the houses for miles, and it bears this strange fruit that no one can stand the taste of except me … and possibly you, I don’t know. ‘On second thoughts …’
Vincent strode out into the rain, his breath spilling out in smoky plumes and his walking stick thumping into the mud with every step. Something in h
im told him this was how he could be closer to Evie. This was his chance to see her again, he was sure.
‘At least take an umbrella!’ Jim called after him, but Vincent’s only thought was of getting to that tree. As he neared it, he could feel its heat. It warmed the raindrops as they fell, and he could no longer see his breath in front of him. He kicked one of the fruit lightly with the tip of his shoe. Its surface seemed soft enough to bite into, but he wondered how ripe it would be if it had only just fallen. The wind rustled through the branches, and Vincent was sure he could hear his name being called by a voice he’d not heard in over fifty years.
Vincent, Evie called. Vincent.
‘Evie?’ he whispered. He turned back to the house, where Jim had been joined by August and Isla. His cheeks turned red with embarrassment.
Vincent.
No, he was certain that was Evie’s voice.
‘Evie!’ he called over the noise of the rain and the thunder.
‘Vincent! Come back inside! You’ll catch your death out there!’ Eddie was now on the back porch too, and Oliver was watching from a window. Isla noticed Little One appear in the sky and land on one of the tree’s tallest branches.
Lightning struck close by, so close that Vincent heard the crackle of electricity, and it lit up the concerned faces of Evie’s family. He looked up to the sky just as another fruit burst from a branch and fell right into his open hand. Without thinking, just trusting his own instincts, he bit into it. His taste buds reeled as they lapped up the familiar taste of toffee apples, treacle and cream. He closed his eyes as its juices, warm in his mouth, slid sweetly down his chin. As he swallowed, his lips tingled as though he’d just been kissed by someone who’d recently sipped a mug of tea.
‘Evie …’ he breathed.
The storm was dying out, the rain merely a pitter-patter now and the thunder sounding distant. Vincent waited for the warmth on his skin to subside, but it didn’t. Instead it spread through his body, reaching the very tips of his fingers. He felt like he was sitting just that bit too close to a roaring fire. He dropped his walking stick in the mud, but he didn’t fall. He felt sturdier than he had in the longest time.
‘Vincent! Can you hear me?’ Isla stepped off the porch to go to him, but Jim put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head.
‘If he needs us, he’ll tell us. I’m sure of it,’ he said, and Isla nodded, but even so, no one went back inside. They all sensed this wasn’t just an elderly man grieving an old flame. This was something different, something special.
The heat in Vincent’s body danced and swirled in his blood and finally found its way to his heart, caressing it, teasing around its edges. The wind dropped completely, the rain stopped and everything went deathly quiet. Vincent opened his eyes for a moment and saw Eddie, Oliver, Isla, August and Jim huddled together against the cold, watching him with bated breath and fearful eyes. He knew something wonderful was about to happen and he closed his eyes for what he was sure would be the last time.
‘Goodbye,’ he whispered as the flames in his body consumed his heart completely and all at once he was alight with Evie’s love.
Lightning struck the tree with one huge, crackling bolt, the rain poured once more and the thunder laughed. Every ache Evie had felt over the last fifty-five years, every moment she’d longed for Vincent and every day she’d still been in love with the memory of him, Vincent felt all of it, all at once, and it was too much for his eighty-three-year-old body to take. All he could do was give in to the force of the love Evie’s heart had held. His knees buckled, slamming into the mud, and as he collapsed, the tree collapsed with him, with Little One’s lifeless body tangled in its twigs.
The family gasped and called out, and Jim ran to him, as best as the old man could, but it was already much too late. Vincent’s life was gone, pouring out of him like smoke, drifting up through the air to a place he’d been dreaming of for far too long.
16
at long last
Evie and Lieffe sat in comfortable silence. She sipped her tea and Lieffe had his eyes lightly closed, happily thinking the time away. Evie truly didn’t know how she felt after seeing Vincent. She’d spent her whole life pushing thoughts of him away, but those thoughts had been of the Vincent she’d known. The Vincent she’d visited on the other side of the wall was a very different man. Not just because he was older, but because he’d lived a life that Evie had not been a part of, and it had shaped and moulded him into a lonely man with no family left to love. The Vincent she had met was a man she didn’t recognise, and that made her incredibly sad. Should she have run away with him? Would that have made them both happier? Helping her brother and staying with Jim had made her happy eventually, but it had meant that Vincent had lived a life of heartache … yet how could she have known he wouldn’t find someone else he’d love as much as if not more than her? Evie shook her head, not enjoying the game of what-if she’d been playing since she’d arrived back.
‘Lieffe.’ Her voice croaked and Lieffe opened his eyes a little, but she didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. ‘Did I do the right thing? Keeping my secrets?’ she asked.
‘Did it feel like the right thing?’ Lieffe asked, closing his eyes again, for which she was glad. She felt less judged when he wasn’t watching her.
She found herself nodding. ‘Yes. It did. At the time. It was right for me, anyway.’
‘Did you hurt your children by not telling them about your past?’ Lieffe hummed, his eyes still closed.
‘They didn’t know me as well as they could have,’ she said.
‘But did you hurt them? Was anyone hurt by your actions?’
‘No.’ She shook her head.
‘Well then,’ he concluded.
‘But we could have had much stronger relationships,’ she said feebly, not knowing if that was true.
Lieffe opened his eyes fully. ‘Maybe,’ he said, shocking Evie with his sudden blunt reply.
‘They might have talked to me more as they were growing up if they’d known me better,’ Evie said, running through it in her mind.
‘Yes,’ Lieffe agreed.
‘Trusted me more.’
‘They may have loved you better had they known the real you,’ Lieffe said.
‘Well I don’t think—’ she started, but Lieffe cut her off.
‘Technically you didn’t hurt them or lie to them, but you never told them the whole truth, and that probably did affect your relationship with them more than you’ll ever realise,’ he said, and then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes once more.
Evie took a moment to process what she’d just heard. ‘No,’ she said, and Lieffe opened one eye. ‘No. That’s not true.’ She put her tea down on the floor by her feet. ‘My kids knew the version of me that was created by my life before I married their father, and that’s all that matters. Bad stories can create good people, and I wanted to protect them from those bad stories so they could live with the good person they’d created without ever worrying about what I had to go through to become that person. I kept those secrets because I needed to, and … and sometimes it’s OK to make those kinds of decisions for the sake of your own happiness.’
Evie stood and paced across the room. ‘All that matters is that I was the mother they deserved, and I was able to become that mother because of my life before they even existed. My mother showed me how not to be a parent, and so I made sure my children had everything I never did. Jim showed me how to love someone unconditionally, no matter what, and Vincent showed me just how much love I had inside me to give. So no, I didn’t hurt my children. They’re happy because of me and Jim and because of the life we gave them.’ She stopped, suddenly out of breath.
Lieffe leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. ‘Then I think you have your answer.’ He smiled fiendishly.
‘I did the right thing?’ Evie said.
‘You did the right thing,’ he said, nodding.
All of a sudden the wall began to hum, and Evie felt that str
ange pull towards it, the hairs on her arms and neck standing on end. She let it bring her closer, until she was standing in the centre of the room. Its yellowing surface started to spin like a whirlpool, a hole appearing in its centre; only a pinprick at first, but as the swirling gradually became faster, it opened up to the size of a bowling ball. A breeze filled the room, blowing Evie’s hair in every direction, making it hard for her to see properly. She heard a clunking sound come from inside her, and before she knew what was happening, the doors of her chest started to open. Panicked, she put her hands on them, trying to close them, but they were out of her control and they pushed back.
‘Don’t fight it, Evie. Nothing can hurt you here. Whatever’s happening is for the best,’ Lieffe called to her over the wind, trying his best to comfort her. ‘You’re safe here.’
Evie took as many deep breaths as she could, trying to calm herself. The black hole was still spinning, and now she could hear a noise coming from the darkness, a noise that put her entirely at ease and even placed a smile of relief on her lips.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Through the hole in the wall floated her black-and-gold flecked heart, twirling and shining, putting on a show for the owner it hadn’t seen in half a century. Evie stopped resisting and let her hands fall to her sides. Her heart floated on the wind towards her and, without any hesitation, positioned itself back in the hollow of her chest, where it belonged. The doors swung shut with one last solid clunk, and Evie touched her chest, finally able to feel her heart beating beneath the skin and bone. She frowned.
‘Is something the matter?’ Lieffe asked, rushing to her with the chair.
‘No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just … I have my heart back, but it hasn’t made me feel heavier. In fact I feel lighter. Much lighter than before.’ She looked at Lieffe hopefully.
‘That can only mean one thing.’
They were eight floors away, but Evie heard the click of the lock on the door of Apartment 72. It was finally open.
She couldn’t help herself. She let out a laugh so big and full of joy that she almost knocked Lieffe off his feet. She laughed so hard and so heartily that she began to float upwards, almost hitting her head on the ceiling.