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He throws up a hand.
‘It’s not your fault,’ I say slowly. ‘Really. It’s me that should’ve noticed.’
‘I should have realized, not kept pushing him!’ He shakes his head. ‘I can’t believe I got it so wrong. Me, of all people.’
I hesitate, then touch his arm briefly. ‘We both did. We both got it wrong. I didn’t even realize there was a problem until now . . .’ I can see that he’s still berating himself, and I put my hand on his arm again. ‘You weren’t to know. Really. I should’ve spotted it sooner. I’ve offered him my phone to play on, but he doesn’t touch it. Nor the books Lara brings him. Those pakoras he’s been making, he’s learnt the recipe off by heart from Saturday Kitchen.’
‘Poor lad. None of us noticed.’
‘I think he’s had a lifetime of covering things up,’ I say, thinking about it. ‘Doing what he’s needed to do to get by in life. Clearly, reading wasn’t on his mum’s list of priorities.’
‘I don’t think anything to do with Will was on her list of priorities.’
We fall silent again for a bit, thinking about how we’ve let Will down.
‘I know what it’s like to struggle with reading. Just see the words jumble in front of your eyes,’ Horse says. ‘Took me a long time. Dyslexia, they said, years later. But that didn’t help the years of frustration. That’s why I liked being outside, not in classrooms or offices. I didn’t have to think about letters out there.’ He nods towards the door.
‘We’ll get him help now. Now that we know,’ I say.
Horse smiles. ‘He’s lucky to have you, Gwen.’
‘And you, Horse,’ I say, looking up at him and feeling a pull towards him. He looks down at me and tucks a strand of hair carefully behind my ear.
‘How about we make up this curry, then take it outside and light the bonfire I’ve got ready by Ty Coed? Put some jacket potatoes in the embers, too.’
‘That sounds like a lovely idea. Thank you. I can start them in the microwave,’ I say.
‘Give Lara and Will a little time to talk.’
Maybe it’s true what they say, I think, returning to the butcher’s block: it takes a village to raise a child.
It’s fully dark by the time we set out towards Ty Coed. Horse carries the finished pot of curry; I’m carrying the part-cooked jacket potatoes, each one now wrapped in tinfoil, and a warm coat for Will. We go through the gate and along the path, now so much clearer than when I came out here with my blunt saw the other day. Look at it now, I think, gazing in wonder at the moonlit scene.
The pathways are clear of brambles and branches. Lights have been strung up in between the trees, like rows of dancers at a Christmas show waiting in the wings – waiting for their moment to shine. I can’t believe how wonderful it looks. The chunky little robin flies down and lands a little way away from me. Then he follows us as we walk towards Ty Coed and Paddy’s tree, jumping from branch to branch as if joining in.
Tomorrow, I think, I’ll put little robin signs in the ground for people to follow through the forest, leading the way to Paddy’s tree. I want to enjoy all of this, but really I’m too worried about Will. I’ve let him down so badly by not realizing he was struggling with his reading. The old fear that I’m just not good enough at this, not able to see what he really needs and provide it for him, is making itself felt.
We turn the corner, and Paddy’s tree comes into sight. Just beyond it is the cottage with the wooden veranda out front, where Lara is sitting closely with Luke and Will. Tegan barks as soon as she sees us. And Dinky joins in too, getting us to come and join them.
We walk slowly towards them with our pots of food. Around the cottage, the weeds have disappeared; the brambles that were weaving their way around the woodwork, threatening to choke the life out of the little house, have been hacked back. It looks wonderful. Like so many other things, I know this is down to Horse. He has breathed life back into the little house, just as he has into the whole forest. And even into me, I realize – just by making it possible for me to be here, back in amongst the trees, finding them soothing and supportive.
As we approach the little group, I say tentatively, ‘Not interrupting, are we?’
Lara looks at Will with a kind smile, and he shakes his head.
‘We’ve had a chat. Will has mostly taught himself to read. It just takes him a while, so I’m going to help him with his reading, if that’s okay with you.’
The fact that she asks me makes me feel emotional. I should be asking her.
‘Of course it is. Thank you.’
‘So he can learn to read more recipes and make more of them, with help.’
‘I’d like to take something to Ayesha, in the care home,’ Will says, looking up at me.
And again I feel as if I’ve been hit in the heart with something weighty. This kind boy looking back at me, thinking of others.
‘Well, that’s a good reason to practise reading,’ I say.