The Child’s Secret

Sam busied himself flattening out the pink square of paper in his hand before folding it carefully, this way and that. He took care with the corners and pressed down the creases with practised ease. ‘What did she have to say for herself?’ he asked at last.

‘She’s …’ The old lady paused long enough for Sam to lift his gaze. ‘She’s getting married come September.’

Sam tried to smile. It could have been worse. ‘I thought the next time she’d phone would be to tell me she was pregnant.’ He continued turning and folding the paper until he was ready to unfurl the wings of his origami crane. ‘I suppose that will come next. She’s moving on.’

‘You might be right,’ Selina agreed, ‘but it can’t be easy.’

‘Really? Do you think I don’t already know that?’ Sam asked, although it wasn’t a question, but a suggestion of the anger building inside him, anger that would have been directed at his ex-wife if he had spoken to her. She wouldn’t have deserved his wrath and he was glad he hadn’t spoken to her directly. He raised his hand to stop Selina replying. ‘Sorry, that was unfair.’

‘She knew you would find it hard, which is why she asked me to break the habit of a lifetime and interfere.’

Sam smiled as he turned the paper crane over in his hand. He had travelled hundreds of miles in an attempt to escape the past but it was the woman he had left behind in Edinburgh who had managed to find a way to move forward. Perhaps he should follow her example.

‘I’ve been asked out on a date,’ he said, knowing full well that Selina would give him the final push he needed.

‘Is she nice?’

‘Out of my league,’ Sam said, thinking of Anna’s dazzling smile and sparkling eyes that saw in Sam something he could not. He scratched his beard. ‘I might have thought I stood a chance once, but I’m not the man I was. I think she’s going to be disappointed.’

‘That’s the problem with you, Sam McIntyre. You think too much.’

5

Saturday 2 May 2015

Sam had thought Anna pretty when they had first met, but when she walked into the restaurant she looked stunning. Her dark hair had been swept to one side, falling softly over her shoulders, and the black-and-white sleeveless jersey dress hugged her figure dangerously. Following Selina’s advice, Sam had gone for a smart casual look and, wearing chinos and a checked shirt, felt distinctly underdressed. They were in a lively Indian restaurant in Woolton Village and even if the other diners weren’t wondering what an odd pairing they made, Sam was.

‘You found it all right then?’ he asked standing up to pull out Anna’s chair for her.

Anna assumed Sam was getting up to give her a kiss and offered her cheek. There was an awkward moment where Sam didn’t know what to do and by the time he plucked up the courage to kiss her, she had moved away and the fumbling only added to his nerves.

‘Yes, I can’t believe I’ve never been here before. I love Indian food.’ She took her seat and watched Sam intently as he struggled to settle back in his chair. ‘You don’t do this often, do you?’

‘No,’ he admitted, ‘I’m more used to heating something up in the microwave. In fact, if it wasn’t for the Christmas do at work every year, I don’t think I’d eat out at all.’ The traditional Christmas dinner dance was one of those annual events that Sam forced himself to attend if only to prove that he could socialize, although without fail he would slip away while the plates were still being cleared.

Anna was laughing at him. ‘I meant going out on a date.’

Hearing the word date only compounded Sam’s anxiety. ‘Oh, erm, yes. I doubt I could even remember the last time,’ he said, which was only partly true. He wondered at what point going out with the woman who was to become his wife could still be considered a date.

‘Well, try not to worry,’ she said softly. ‘Things won’t have changed that much. The idea is that we both relax and enjoy ourselves. No expectations, no strings attached – and before we order our food, I want to make one thing clear: we split the bill.’ When Sam looked horrified, she laughed again. ‘What? Were you expecting me to pay for everything? I thought it was just a myth that Scotsmen were tight-fisted?’

Sam couldn’t help laughing, which settled his nerves, if only a little. ‘You know that wasn’t what I was thinking at all. And while I don’t want to start the evening with an argument, I have to insist on paying. It wouldn’t be right.’

Anna scrutinized his face. ‘OK, but only if I’m allowed to pay next time.’ Before Sam could object she was extending her hand towards him so they could shake on the deal.

They placed their orders for food and soon after the waiter brought their drinks. Sam had ordered a pint and was tempted to down it in one but made do with generous gulps as Anna sipped her wine. ‘So what made you come to Liverpool in the first place?’ she asked.

‘I was travelling through,’ he said, although travelling aimlessly might have been a better description. ‘And then I somehow fell into a job I enjoyed, found a nice place to stay and so here I am, still here four years later.’

‘And yet you haven’t put down roots.’

‘What do you think I do for a living?’ he asked.

The waiter arrived with their starters and they sat in silence for a while. From the look on Anna’s face, she was waiting for a proper answer, which he did his best to ignore. As the silence stretched in front of them, he was forced to accept that they risked spending the rest of the evening sidestepping the past unless he shared at least some of the baggage he carried with him. He wasn’t good at sharing information, but accepted that the sooner he got it out of the way, the sooner he could give his undivided attention to the beautiful young woman sitting opposite him.

‘I lived in Edinburgh all my life, right up until the day I decided to leave. My marriage of fifteen years was over bar the shouting and I decided that I wouldn’t hang around long enough for that to happen. I left and I haven’t been back since.’

‘I take it there were no kids, then?’

Sam felt every nerve in his body tense but his voice was surprisingly level and gave no clue to his real feelings. ‘The divorce, unlike the marriage, was uncomplicated.’

‘You’re very fortunate; in my line of business you see the fallout to a lot of acrimonious divorces,’ Anna said. ‘But here you are, young, free and single.’

The laugh wouldn’t come but he managed a smile. ‘Young?’

She shrugged. ‘I have a sneaking suspicion that there’s a youthful complexion underneath that beard. You might think you can hide behind it, but I see you, Sam McIntyre.’

‘You think I should shave it off,’ he concluded.

Anna tore at a piece of naan bread then pushed back on her chair as she took a bite. She considered her response before she said, ‘Unlike you, I have plenty of experience of the dating game. My last relationship ended three months ago and now I’m back home, living with my mum and dad, with my ex-boyfriend’s words ringing in my ears. He told me in great detail how I tried to change him rather than adapt, and while I think that was a little unfair, there was some truth in what he said and I intend to learn from my mistakes, Sam. If you like your beard then far be it from me to tell you how much better looking you’d be without it.’

Sam wasn’t sure how to take Anna but her honesty was refreshing and as she had been keen to point out, they were out to enjoy themselves; that was all. If something came of it then that would be more than nice. It had been a long time since Sam had had some excitement in his life and he couldn’t deny that he missed it. And if things didn’t work out then Sam could return unharmed to his comfort zone. ‘So you don’t like it, then?’ he asked her with the broadest smile.

‘Oh, now you’ll definitely have to keep it,’ she exclaimed. ‘Otherwise I’ll think I’ve pressurized you and that would make me feel awful.’

Their chatter continued as their main courses were served and eventually the conversation turned to the one thing they had in common. ‘I’m sorry I ever got you to mention that Wishing Tree story,’ Anna admitted. ‘I never imagined the trouble it would cause – other than a bit of littering, maybe.’ There was a mischievous glint in her eye but it quickly disappeared. ‘We were so busy focusing our attention on the kids we expected to misbehave that we let one of the quiet ones slip through the net.’

‘Did she get in trouble?’

‘Jasmine? No, it was me who got hauled over the coals!’

Sam didn’t look moved. ‘Don’t expect sympathy from me when I was the one left to clear up after you all.’

‘Sorry, was there much of a mess?’

Sam thought of the screwed-up ball of pink paper which he had transformed into a soaring paper bird when he said, ‘It’s all in a day’s work – and the way things are at the moment, I suppose I should just be glad I’ve got a job.’

‘Actually, I think that could be behind Jasmine’s behaviour,’ Anna said, making the link with Sam’s comment far more quickly than he could have hoped. ‘Her dad was laid off a few months ago and since then she seems to have slunk deeper into the shadows. I wouldn’t have thought the family are in dire straits; her mum still works but that might be part of the problem. They both worked at a builders’ merchants but only she got to keep her job. They’re not a happy family by any stretch of the imagination.’

‘You sound like you know them quite well.’

‘Oh, only to say hello to really. I see Laura – the mother – at parents’ evenings and they don’t live too far from where my parents live so I’ve seen them around. Jasmine’s dad, Finn, drinks in the King’s Arms and I think he’s practically living there these days.’

Thinking how the troubled girl could have more disappointment in store when the Wishing Tree failed to deliver her heart’s desire made Sam lose his appetite. He didn’t want to hear any more and began playing with his food, a curry that was so hot it had made his eyes water.

Anna watched him chase the same piece of lamb around his plate until she stabbed at it with her fork. ‘Sorry, you’ll have to get used to this,’ she said. ‘If I see something I like, I go for it.’

Sam waited for her eyes to start watering but Anna dealt with the spiced heat better than he had. ‘I’m impressed,’ he said.

‘That was the plan,’ she confessed.

6

Sam’s flat: Wednesday 7 October 2015

‘It was through Anna that I got to know the family,’ Sam told Harper.

‘And Anna would be Jasmine’s teacher?’

Pursing his dried lips, the skin tore when Sam opened his mouth to speak. He was tiring of the cat-and-mouse game Harper was playing and said, ‘You already know she is.’

‘Yes, of course, Anna Jenkins. The girlfriend,’ Harper said and then began leafing through his notebook, although Sam suspected it was more for effect than to check any particular facts.

The silence that followed made Sam uncomfortable, as Harper no doubt intended. Sam was becoming impatient for a drink to quench his thirst and was ready to stand up to get it himself, when the uniformed policeman reappeared with his long-awaited glass of water. Jasper had been following him, but stopped at the doorway when he saw Harper standing over Sam. The puppy looked to his master for comfort then shivered nervously.

‘Go lie down, boy,’ Sam told him softly but firmly.

Jasper took a hesitant step forward as if he were going to ignore the command but then, dipping his head, he disappeared back into the kitchen. There was the brief sound of scratching as the puppy settled into his bed.

‘I couldn’t help notice that all your cupboards are bare, Mr McIntyre,’ the police officer said as he handed Sam the glass.

Harper looked up from his notes. ‘Really?’ he asked and shared a look with the other man before writing something down. When he looked up again, he said, ‘Right, Mr McIntyre, back to this morning. You left the house when?’

Sam had been expecting a whole new set of questions but relaxed a little. After taking a long drink, he said, ‘About ten o’clock, maybe ten thirty.’

‘Not before?’

‘I’ve already told you. No.’

‘And is there anyone who can corroborate your story?’

‘It’s not a story, and no, I can’t.’

‘Not your landlady?’

‘I haven’t seen Selina this morning. I heard her leave, maybe an hour before me.’

‘And do you know where she is now?’

Sam craned his neck to look out of the window. The parking space next to his Land Rover remained empty. ‘No,’ he said.

‘And no one else lives in the house?’

‘No.’

Harper was looking around the room again. ‘No offence, but it hardly looks like even you live here. Has Jasmine ever visited?’

‘No, never.’

‘You met her quite often in the park, though.’

‘A few times, yes.’

‘And the last time you saw her was …’ Harper said, pausing to consult his notes, ‘two weeks ago. Where was that?’

‘At the park,’ Sam said.

‘Where in the park?’

‘By the—’ Sam went to say Wishing Tree and only just stopped himself. ‘By the Allerton Oak.’

Harper tapped a pen against his notepad and then took a quick breath as if a thought had only just occurred to him. ‘Ah, yes, I’d almost forgotten about the Wishing Tree. Is there a reason why you haven’t yet mentioned that you knew about Jasmine’s wish to find a job for her dad, Mr McIntyre? Or why you felt compelled to fulfil it?’

7

Friday 29 May 2015

Heading away from the Mansion House, Sam and Jack looked up at the same time as the sun made a late appearance through the slate grey cloud that had hung over Calderstones all day. Lifted from the shadows, the park came to life; the verdant greens of the lawns and foliage took on a new vibrancy and the late spring blooms were dazzling.

Sam shook his head. ‘Now the sun decides to come out! If they’d hung around a bit longer, they would have seen the gardens in all their glory,’ he muttered, referring to the group of councillors who had been touring the city’s parks to help decide how best to use some recently acquired European funding. Sam had helped Jack put together a project for Calderstones that, amongst other things, would reinstate the full-time role of park ranger.

‘Oh, I don’t think a bit of sunshine would change anything,’ Jack said. ‘You mentioning how you volunteer your time out of hours – now that didn’t help our cause. Why pay for a ranger when there’s someone daft enough to do it for free?’

‘They have to know the service is still needed, still used.’

‘Sorry, I know it’s your baby and good on you for keeping it going,’ Jack said. When he saw Sam’s jaw clench, he put his hand on his shoulder. ‘You need to find something else in your life, mate. No one should love their job as much as you do. It’s not natural!’

Sam tried to look offended but then smiled. ‘Someone has to keep this place going while there are so many others leaving like rats from a sinking ship.’

Jack bowed his head a little. ‘I never thought I’d be one of them, but I would have been mad not to take the job when it came up. And I’ll be honest, I’m looking forward to having a landscaping budget that won’t be slashed before I’ve signed off the first order.’

‘You know what they say about the grass being greener,’ Sam warned, although his heart wasn’t in it. Jack’s new job as landscaper for a construction company sounded ideal for his friend and he wished him well.

‘I know, and between you and me, I’m terrified. I’m already working up my first scheme and I’m going to have to put a team together pretty quickly when I start in a few weeks. I want to hit the ground running so if you’re looking to move on yourself …?’

Sam was already shaking his head. ‘No, thanks,’ he said, and then his words caught in his throat as a thought struck him. ‘But if you’re taking people on, give me a shout. I may be able to put someone your way, if only for general labour.’

‘Sure, but it was you I was after, Sam.’

‘Sorry, Jack. I’m not looking for a new challenge. I’m happy where I am, you know that.’

‘You’re easily pleased, I’ll give you that. You don’t ask much from life, do you, Sam?’

It was a rhetorical question and a subject that Jack had raised regularly. He couldn’t accept that Sam should be content with his minimalist existence. ‘Would it shut you up for once if I told you that I’m courting a young lass?’

Jack came to a stop and began stumbling over his words. ‘You’re joking? You? No, I don’t believe it. Sam McIntyre has actually asked someone out on a date?’ he asked, then laughed when he caught the look on Sam’s face. ‘She asked you out, didn’t she?’

‘Anna,’ Sam said by way of an answer. ‘One of the teachers from St Mary’s. We’ve gone out a few times.’

‘So it’s serious, then?’

‘It’s a handful of dates,’ Sam corrected. He wasn’t yet sure if he was doing the right thing. He couldn’t deny he was enjoying Anna’s company and looked forward to their dates, but there was a long way to go before he would feel worthy of stepping out with a young, beautiful woman on his arm. The first time they had kissed, Sam had wanted to pull back and ask Anna if she was really sure she knew what she was doing, but he hadn’t been able to resist her, which she undoubtedly knew.

They carried on walking towards the main gate and Sam was too busy squirming under Jack’s cross-examination to even register that he was looking over in the direction of the Allerton Oak, not until he saw a small figure running away, her blonde hair billowing in the breeze like the sail of a ship. A month had passed since he had seen Jasmine, although she had played on his mind more than he would like to admit. She might not have realized but she had put her trust in Sam by believing everything he had told her, just like another little girl had once done, and he didn’t want to be proven a liar, not again.

‘Why don’t you invite Anna to my leaving do?’ Jack was saying. ‘It’s only a few drinks, no pressure, and the pub has plenty of exits in case the interrogation gets too much for you. Everyone, and I mean everyone, is going to want to meet her, including Sheila, and my wife will not forgive you if you don’t come.’

‘Maybe,’ Sam said, but he wasn’t even listening now. He made a rash promise to ask Anna along and then told Jack he had remembered something that needed checking before he headed home.

By the time Sam reached the tree, the only sign that the girl had even been there was a small ball of pink paper. When he read the note, it tore at his tender heart.

To my Wishing Tree,

I’m sorry Tree! You’re too old to be granting a stupid wish from a stupider girl so please don’t feel bad about it.

And I’m not making any more wishes because I’m going to help Mum and Dad myself. I don’t even care if I have to work all day and never ever sleep and I can’t sleep anyway because I keep hearing Mum crying. I’m going to make Mum and Dad brekfast I’m going to make Mum smile and maybe Dad will see I’m not a useless lump like he says and he’ll be happier too.

So don’t worry about the job for Dad and if you do have any power left to grant wishes then use it to make yourself better. I know you still hurt.

With all my love,

Jasmine xxx

Sam thought there was more than enough light in the apartment, but at Anna’s insistence he got up and moved towards the door where his finger hovered over the light switch. The cooling sun remained strong enough to pick out the scattered pieces of furniture and the slender figure of the woman who had arrived like a tornado in his life, spinning his head and his emotions and, at that particular moment, scattering pieces of paper across the dining table.

Anna’s dark hair fell loosely over her shoulders and she had a daisy tucked behind her ear, taken from the posy he had given her earlier. She had put the rest of the flowers in a pint glass, the nearest alternative he had to a vase, and they had been placed in the centre of the table while they ate dinner, only to be relegated to the window ledge once they began looking at Sam’s drawings. Anna opened up another sketch book now and squinted at the first page, only then noticing Sam’s prevarication. When she fixed him with her steely glare, he was forced into action and flicked the light switch, which chased away the shadows he hadn’t even been aware existed.

‘Let’s spread ourselves out,’ she said.

Scooping up a pile of Sam’s drawings, Anna proceeded to lay them out on the vast open space provided by the apartment’s bare, polished floorboards. Next she picked up the two wine glasses from the dining table and motioned Sam to sit amongst his drawings before joining him.

‘You have to do something with these,’ she told him. ‘And I don’t mean pasting them onto a worksheet for the Year Fours.’ Her eyes soaked up every detail of the countless sketches of squirrels and magpies, primroses and azaleas. He had even found beauty in the litter strewn along the paths, but his most impressive collection of sketches was of the thousand-year-old tree. Sam had recorded its life through the seasons, up close and from a distance. In one he had drawn bare branches that exposed its age, and in another captured its strength as it raised its heavy, green canopy towards the life-giving sun.

‘Such as?’

Anna lined up the sketches of the tree. ‘We could create a story about the Wishing Tree.’

‘We?’

Taking a sip of wine, Anna was thoughtful for a moment. ‘I could write it and you could do the illustrations. We could make it into a book and even if we couldn’t get a book deal, we could self-publish.’

Sam scratched his beard. ‘Yeah, and circulate the story so even more kids can come along to throw litter at the tree.’

‘We could adapt the story so that the wishes don’t need to be written down.’ She nudged him. ‘You should bear that in mind next time I make you tell the story. Just tell the kids they have to touch a branch and it will read their mind and hey presto, no litter.’

The frown had appeared on Sam’s face before he had a chance to hide it.

‘What?’

‘I don’t want to give the children false hope,’ he said. He looked into Anna’s eyes and tried to soak up her enthusiasm, but his conscience wouldn’t be eased as he thought of a small shoebox he kept tucked beneath his bed out of sight. It was decorated with sheets of origami squares and was one of the more colourful of his possessions, if not the most precious. It was where he kept all the paper cranes he had made over the years, hundreds of them … and the last two were made from bright pink paper; one containing a wish and the other a declaration that had felt more like a plea aimed directly at Sam’s heart. While he understood that feeble wishes were no replacement for action, he couldn’t leave such a burden on the shoulders of an eight-year-old child.

Every time he met Anna, he had wanted to hear news of the little girl, but so far he had resisted asking directly and, of course, Jasmine was not one of Miss Jenkins’ most notorious pupils and so hadn’t been mentioned since their first date.

Anna put down her glass and inveigled herself into Sam’s arms with little resistance. ‘Is it such a bad thing to have a little magic in our lives?’

The warmth of her body melted Sam’s resolve and he found himself saying, ‘What about that girl who went missing from your class? She went home thinking her dad was going to get a job because she had asked the tree.’

‘You read her wish?’ Anna asked. She had placed her hand on his face and, feeling the glow of his cheeks, found her answer.

‘I’m sorry I did now because I feel responsible,’ he confessed. ‘Which is why I’ve been thinking of a way I might be able to help.’