‘The Bather – I’m The Bather! Cézanne – you know it, right?’ He relaxed his arms and held her stare.
‘Yes.’ She swallowed.Cézanne...of course.‘Yes, I know it.’
‘Are you coming in?’ He waded into the river and dropped down among the weeds, letting the clear water rush over his shoulders as he shivered.
Daisy looked around, making sure the coast was clear before stepping out of her dungarees and t-shirt, wishing she’d worn her one decent bra. It felt rash, daring and illicit, and gloriously life-affirming to be standing here in her knickers and bra on this fine Saturday afternoon. Especially with her knees on display. The knees she kept firmly under wraps in all weathers. Dylan didn’t seem too offended by the sight of them, in fact, he looked quite delighted as, tentatively, she put her foot in the cool water, going deeper until it lapped her skinny ankle. A step further and the grassy bank gave way to soft mud.
‘I’m scared I’m going to stand on a frog or a fish!’ She giggled as she made the claim.
‘It’d have to be a tiny fish.’ He laughed, making the minute size apparent with his thumb and forefinger.
‘I’ve never even seen a fish that small!’ she protested.
‘Have you never fished for tiddlers with a net and an old jam jar?’
‘No, I’ve never fished for a tiddler. Not even sure I know exactly what a tiddler is?’
‘Oh, Daisy!’ She liked when he used her name. ‘If you’ve never caught a tiddler you haven’t lived! It’s the most brilliant thing!’She loved his enthusiasm for something so simple. ‘Wading barefoot with your jeans rolled up, it stirs the silt into muddy clouds around your ankles so you never quite know what you are going to stand on next – it’s a footfall lottery!’ He leaned towards her as his enthusiasm for the topic grew, pawing the air with his fingers as if sculpting the image in front of him. ‘It might be a mound of mud that squishes between your toes, but equally it could be the sharp bite of a rock or the tickle of a darting minnow or a stickleback. How does that sound?’
‘Scary! Horrible!’ She shivered, suddenly feeling very doubtful about what might lurk on the riverbed, concerned about not being able to see what was around her feet, while knowing there were fish, pebbles and weeds to navigate by touch alone.
‘You can’t let it put you off.’ He took a step forward until his face felt very close to hers, his eyes bright, his shoulder-length hair tucked behind his ears, his skin a little tanned, and she could smell his savoury scent – it was very attractive. ‘To catch a tiddler in a net and then place it in the jam jar feels like a triumph, and to briefly see a creature like that close up is amazing.’ He looked skyward and seemed older than his years. ‘We can come back here, if you like, and I’ll show you how to catch a minnow, a little stickleback, we’ll take a picture and set it free.’
She found both his presumptuousness and kindness endearing.
‘I might be a bit of a scaredy cat; not sure I’d like to catch a living thing. In fact, I might be too scared to come any further – you’ve put me off swimming!’
‘Don’t be a scaredy cat. It’s just life, Daisy.’
He was right: it was just life. She liked Dylan. Gianna’s words came back to her. ‘Find someone who gets you, who likes you and who you like in return...’
Daisy smiled as he stood in the water with his muscled arms wide open, ready to catch her. As she made her way cautiouslytowards him, she glanced up at the flats and found herself looking through an open set of French doors, through which she could see the widest, deepest sofa she had ever seen! She imagined falling into it and knew it would be blissfully comfortable. Unlike her family, she’d never been one for daytime napping, but my goodness with a sofa like that to tumble on to, maybe she’d give it a go ...
Her own flat!It still hadn’t sunk in. She owned a property. She had an apartment! Her heart sang as the fact settled. She knew that one day she would sit in that very spot, looking out over the river and she would remember this day, this moment, when she did something daring, stripped down to her underwear and walked into the arms of this boy. A boy who, she felt sure, was capable of taking an eraser to the images of Cassian Kelleway that she carried in her brain.
‘I’ve got you.’ He held out his hand. ‘Come on, don’t be scared!’ She walked forward and put her fingers against his where they knitted with ease. ‘I’ve got you.’
Wheeling her bike slowly, ambling from one side to the other, Daisy walked home with damp clothes clinging to her wet skin, and a lightness to her spirit. She pulled the scarf from around her neck and removed her beret, stuffing them into the canvas pannier, which had a hole in it. Turning her face towards the sun, she pictured the moment she and Dylan had parted, and he had given her a wide smile that spoke of promise ... A smile that filled her with something that felt a lot like hope. And the fact he was happy to discuss topics that fascinated her and was also hoping to head off to Cambridge was no bad thing.
Approaching the four oak trees at the top of the road, she stared at the one with yellow tape around it and it struck her asalmost comical. What on earth did anyone think yellow tape was going to do in terms of protection if this mighty tree decided to topple? Abandoning her bike on the pavement, she crept close to the tree that was so cruelly adorned, marked out as different. Gently, she lifted her hand to the gnarled bark and rested her palm on it. Taking a step closer, she stood as near to it as she could and placed her other hand on the rough exterior.
‘I’m sorry, Gramps. Sorry we chopped down your forest and sorry that I might not be able to save you.’
After a quick sweep of the area to make sure no one was watching, she planted a kiss on the tree and said her goodbyes.
Arriving home, she looked up at the front of their house, the only one on the street where paint clung in thin strips of pale lemon, where the front door let wind and leaves whistle through a gap at the bottom and the original wooden garage doors listed to the right. And it made her smile, knowing that every spare penny went on securing a future for her and Jake. It was the most incredible gift and one that she would never, ever take for granted or stop feeling thankful for. She was lucky, so very lucky to be a Harrop. It was as if she felt elevated, her self-esteem increased, just knowing how very loved she was and how much her mum and dad had sacrificed for her. Who knew, if she worked hard, got to Cambridge, made the success of her life that Gianna and her parents felt she was capable of, one day in the future, she too might have a family like the Kelleways ...
With her key in her hand, she was about to open the front door when a sound from the back garden drew her attention. It was the scrape of a shovel on the path, digging.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked, at the sight of her mum who was very much up and about, turning over soil and sorting through it with her fingers to remove the weeds.
‘I’m weeding so that we can plant daffodil bulbs.’
‘Oh! Okay, great!’ She couldn’t disguise her delight, both at the prospect of the flowers that would bloom in the spring or the fact that her mother was doing the very thing she had dreamed of.
Lisa straightened and with both hands on the shovel she smiled at her. ‘They’ll be beautiful, Daisy. Not immediately, I mean they’ll take a while to figure out which way is up, to bed in, they might need to rest, to learn what comes next, but when they do, they will shine and our garden will be beautiful.’
‘It will, Mum.’ Daisy smiled at her – her wonderful, wonderful mum. ‘It will be perfect ...’
