Kate Forster

The Perfect Retreat


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middle names?’ asked Kitty swiftly, moving the conversation along.

      ‘Nope.’

      ‘Lucky thing,’ said Kitty, thinking of all the letters in her long name.

      Willow looked down at a tired Poppy in her arms. ‘Kitty, would you?’

      ‘Sure.’ Kitty stood up and took Poppy from Willow.

      ‘So, just Poppy?’ asked Merritt as Kitty left the room with the sleepy little girl in her arms.

      ‘No. Two more. Lucian, who’s five, and Jinty, who’s eighteen months.’

      ‘Wow, and no husband to help?’ Merritt shook his head.

      ‘No, but then who needs a husband when you have Kitty?’ said Willow.

      Merritt looked to see if she was joking and saw she was serious. ‘Fair enough,’ he said.

      Kitty came back into the kitchen. ‘She was asleep by the time I was at the top of the stairs.’

      Willow stood up. ‘I think I might be also. I might head off to bed. What room should I take, Kitty?’

      ‘The one at the furthest end of the corridor on the left. There are clean sheets in the linen closet as you walk by. Bathroom opposite,’ said Kitty.

      ‘Great. Nice to meet you, Merritt. Sorry about the misunderstanding on the stairs,’ said Willow.

      ‘Lovely to meet you too, and I apologise for the language,’ said Merritt, laughing.

      Willow smiled at him. For a moment their eyes met and she felt like she was about to say something, but then it was gone from her mind. Merritt stood waiting for her to speak. She’d looked as though she was going to say something, but then she’d stayed silent. Strange woman, he thought as she walked from the kitchen.

      After she had left, Merritt turned to Kitty. ‘So what’s the story?’

      ‘Well I can’t tell you everything – it’s all a bit awful – but she needs to escape for a while and so I offered her the house until she works out what she’s doing with the divorce and all. If I had known you were coming back …’ Kitty trailed off.

      ‘No, no, I should have called you. It’s fine. I’m just going to do some assessing of the house and the gardens and try and work out a plan as to whether the house will ever be habitable, or whether we’ll have to sell to the National Trust.’

      ‘It looks shabbier than ever,’ admitted Kitty. ‘I hate to think what it looks like during the day.’

      ‘Well, we’ll see in the morning,’ said Merritt, standing up and stretching. ‘What’s she like? Your Oscar-winning boss?’

      ‘She’s nice. A little bit crazy at times, but she’s had a rough time over the years I’ve been with her. Did you really not know who she was?’ asked Kitty, as she stood opposite her brother.

      ‘Of course I knew who she was – I haven’t been in a coma – but I wasn’t going to let her know that. She has that look of haughty expectation. Way too high maintenance. I wanted her to keep it real.’ He laughed.

      Upstairs, Willow lay on the flannel sheets she had found in the hall cupboard. They smelt of mildew and violets. Merritt’s face crossed her mind. It felt nice that he didn’t know who she was. Anyway, she had no idea who she was any more, so why should anyone else claim to know her? Rolling over, she faced the large window with only one curtain drawn. She could see the crescent moon outside.

      Now was the time to find out who she was, and there was no better place to do it than here, she thought. She drifted off to sleep, dreaming of staircases and tunnels and violets.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      The next morning when Willow was still asleep and Kitty was up with the children, Merritt came stomping into the kitchen, his boots caked with mud.

      ‘Fuck a duck, it’s a shithole out there!’ he exclaimed, and he heard a child laugh.

      Looking up he saw three faces staring at him. ‘Whoops … sorry about the language.’

      Kitty frowned at him. ‘Be careful what you say. Poppy repeats everything.’

      ‘And what about you? Do you know that swearing is the sign of a low vocabulary?’ he said to Lucian as he poured himself a mug of tea from the brown pot on the table.

      ‘Lucian doesn’t talk. If you want to tell him anything you have to go through me,’ said Poppy with her little arms crossed. This morning she was wearing her pyjamas with a dressing gown that he was sure had once belonged to his father; navy silk with stains and moth holes.

      ‘OK, roger that,’ said Merritt, and he raised his eyebrows at Kitty. She met his gaze and shook her head imperceptibly. ‘Well, you’d better introduce me then.’

      Poppy turned importantly to Lucian. ‘This is Merritt Edward Oswald. He’s Kitty’s brother.’

      Kitty laughed. ‘She has a mind like a steel trap,’ she said to Merritt.

      ‘And who’s this seedling?’ he asked, looking at Jinty, who was shoving toast into her mouth.

      ‘This is Jinty. She can’t talk either. I’m the only one who can talk.’

      ‘Well done you,’ said Merritt. ‘So, what’s on this morning?’ he asked.

      ‘Not sure yet,’ said Kitty. ‘Mummy’s still asleep isn’t she?’

      ‘Mummy sleeps in every morning,’ said Poppy.

      ‘Lucky her,’ said Merritt. ‘I’ve been up since five o’clock.’

      ‘Why?’ asked Poppy as she peeled the cheese off her toast and ate it first.

      ‘Best time, the morning. Quiet. No one to disturb you.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Because no one is up yet.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Because they are all asleep.’

      ‘Why?’

      Kitty looked at Merritt. ‘This is her new thing. Enjoy.’

      Merritt laughed.

      ‘Well, I’m heading off on a tour of the other gardens. Anyone want to come?’ he asked.

      ‘Me!’ cried Poppy.

      ‘What about Lucian?’ he asked the small boy, who stared straight ahead.

      ‘He wants to come too,’ said Poppy with authority.

      ‘Do they have some sort of secret language, like twins?’ he said quietly in Kitty’s ear.

      She shrugged. The truth was she had no idea about Lucian and Poppy’s bond, and even less idea about Lucian’s reluctance to speak. His fascination with his blocks and Thomas the Tank Engine hadn’t waned since she had started working for Willow, and she figured if he was happy then she shouldn’t interfere.

      ‘Well go and get dressed,’ he said to Poppy and Lucian. ‘Quickly. I’ll meet you out the front.’

      ‘I’ll leave you here with Jinty for a moment, OK?’ Kitty said as she hustled the two children upstairs.

      Jinty and Merritt eyed each other, and Jinty promptly burst into tears. ‘Oh dear. What a roar,’ he said, undoing the straps on her highchair. He picked her up and she stopped crying, looked at him and smiled.

      ‘Hello Jinty,’ he said seriously.

      She blew a raspberry at him and covered him in bits of soggy toast. He laughed and looked up to see Willow watching him.

      ‘Morning,’ he said, and held Jinty out towards her mother.