The Faerie Tree (3 page)

Kimmeridge is special because the fish hide between floating towers of sea-green vegetation and hunting them down is part of its charm. I had a moment of worry that Izzie would expect a clear blue tropical fish tank but she was transfixed and we stayed in the water for almost an hour, faces in the green for a while, then kicking onto our backs and gazing at the sky. Our outstretched hands touched as we floated, just for a moment until the current drew us apart.

Afterwards we sat on our towels on a rock ledge and let the sun dry us while we munched the sandwiches I'd made and drank Pepsi. Izzie'd brought a packet of Jaffa Cakes and we made serious inroads into those as well, and all the time we talked and talked and talked – kind of ‘getting to know you' first date stuff. During our trips to the wine bar we hadn't gone into histories, but that day felt different, somehow, like it was a beginning.

I learnt that Izzie had grown up in Watford then gone to Bristol University. When she graduated she came to Southampton because her boyfriend had found a job in the dockyard. The relationship was obviously more serious than I'd thought.

“So you've been together a while?” I ventured.

She nodded, but she was looking away from me, tracing neat figures of eight onto the rock with her index finger. There was a silence.

“Look, I didn't mean to pry, I was only…”

“No, it's OK – it's just, well – not that great at the moment. Paul's started to talk about marriage and it's made me realise it's not what I want. Well, not with him anyway,” she blushed.

“Is there someone else?” More than one rival would be disastrous.

“Robin, I shouldn't be talking to you about this, I…” She glanced up and I caught something in her eyes that made my heart beat ten times faster. But did I imagine it? Did I imagine
that there was someone and it was me? It didn't seem possible – and I didn't find out because she leapt up and raced across the boulders, calling over her shoulder that the last one in had to do a handstand in the sea. I didn't mind – I could do those quite easily.

Chapter Five

I said nothing to my mother about Izzie but it took her less than a week to guess. Coming downstairs freshly showered and changed into a new shirt at three o'clock on Saturday afternoon probably clinched it, but I suspect she had already realised something was up due to my unusual state of barely suppressed excitement.

She smiled at me, her eyes sparkling. “Robin – are you seeing someone?”

I fiddled with the car keys. “I'm not sure really, Mum. It's early days and…”

“Well I'd be pleased if you were,” she cut across me. “I don't want this,” she thumped her wheelchair, “to stop you having a life, so don't you dare think it.”

I leant down to hug her. “Thanks Mum,” I murmured. “If… if it does work out I'll bring Izzie to meet you just as soon as I can.”

“I'd like that. Now bugger off – and good luck.”

It was all very well Mum saying her disability shouldn't stop me having a life, but I couldn't see how it would work in practice. But then I thought of Izzie on the beach at Kimmeridge and my mood was already lifting as I put the car into gear and eased away from the pavement.

Hamble Rowing Club was based at the Jolly Sailor pub near
the railway, so I was able to leave the car anonymously in the station car park. The Jolly Sailor – and Hamble as a whole – achieved a fair amount of notoriety in the 1980s as the setting for Howard's Way, the British version of Dallas. As a result it was normally packed at weekends and I avoided it like the plague.

Today the pub was even busier with the regatta being run from its jetty. Large groups of rowers in their various club polo shirts stood around with glasses in their hands but I couldn't spot Izzie so I got myself a beer and edged closer to the water. The fact I couldn't get near the front didn't matter – I could easily see over the tops of people's heads.

It also meant that when Izzie and another girl emerged from a skiff she spotted me almost immediately. As soon as she could extract herself from the cheers and back-slapping she dodged through the crowd and hugged me. If there'd been room I'd have picked her up and swung her around.

“Robin – you came.” Her cheeks were pink from exertion and she seemed to glow.

I must have been grinning like an idiot, looking down at her. “I only just arrived – did you win?”

“No, we came second – but that's good enough – most of these clubs take it far more seriously than we do.” She grabbed my hand. “Come on – I want you to meet everybody.”

It seemed she really did mean everybody as she hurled me from one group to another, absorbing me into the heart of all her friends. Almost inevitably they asked me if I'd like to row, but I joked that I'd never fold myself into a boat.

“Robin prefers being in the water,” Izzie explained. “Snorkelling, diving, surfing – that's his kind of thing.”

“So is this who you went to Kimmeridge with?” Lesley, her rowing partner, asked and when Izzie said yes I felt myself the subject of her warm but thorough appraisal.

After a couple of hours I had to go and Izzie walked with me as far as the pub door.

“I'm sorry I can't stay longer, Izzie, but, well, there's a few things I need to do this evening.”

“I'm sorry you can't too. It's been lovely, I mean, you fit in so well…”

“Who wouldn't? They're a very welcoming bunch.”

She dropped her eyes. “Paul doesn't like them.”

Before I'd even thought about it the words were out of my mouth. “Paul's a fool.” I grasped her hand. “Sorry, Izzie – it wasn't for me to say that.”

She didn't look up but she said it was OK. “Look, Robin, you know things aren't great between Paul and me. But we're going on holiday in about ten days' time and I can't upset the apple cart beforehand.”

“Will I see you again before you go?”

Now she did look at me, her blue eyes huge. “I'd like that very much.”

Chapter Six

I used to ask myself ‘why the Faerie Tree?' but over the years I've grown to understand. Back then it was mainly a case of finding somewhere we'd be unlikely to meet anyone we knew – with the bonus of being close to the Hamble which Izzie loved.

It took me two buses to get there and I arrived early enough to treat myself to a pint in the garden of The Horse & Jockey. I found myself a shady spot and allowed myself to dream of what the afternoon might bring, what it might be the beginning of.

Just after two o'clock Izzie pulled into the empty car park. I disentangled my legs from the picnic table and wiped the sweat off my hands onto my jeans. But I could feel my face crease into a smile as I walked towards her car and, pretending a little bow, opened the driver's door for her. Her yellow sundress and tatty plimsolls were a mixture of sex and good sense which reduced me to stammering what should have been a confident hello.

We set off beside the narrow creek towards the Hamble itself. The path was framed by arches of green, and to our left the bank rose steeply towards the fences of the handful of houses with gardens long enough to stretch from the road. The buzz of a lawnmower faded until all we could hear was birdsong above us in the branches.

The track snaked away from the water and half way up a
dusty incline I stopped. “Do you believe in fairies?” I asked.

“Fairies?”

“Fairies, elves, pixies… the wee small folk of the woods.”

Izzie was laughing as she replied. “I try to keep an open mind – but you're a scientist – don't tell me you do.”

“These ones convinced me. They write letters.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

“Come on – I'll show you.” I took her hand. “Now close your eyes and don't open them until I say.”

I led her forwards, savouring the coolness of her skin as I helped her to navigate the tree roots crossing the path. The Hamble, less than fifty yards away down a steep bank to our right, was completely invisible.

When we were in front of the Faerie Tree I stopped. “You can open your eyes now,” I told her and prepared to drop her hand, but much to my delight her fingers stayed wrapped in mine.

“Oh Robin,” she breathed, “it's magical.”

I tried to remember the first time I'd been here and to see the tree through Izzie's eyes. The oak stood on a rise just above the path; not too tall or wide but graceful and straight, its trunk covered in what I can only describe as offerings – pieces of ribbon, daisy chains, a shell necklace, a tiny doll or two and even an old cuckoo clock.

“Why do people do this?” Izzie asked.

I winked at her. “To say thank you to the fairies.”

“For what?”

“For making their wishes come true, I guess. Look – I'll show you.”

On the right hand side of the tree trunk was an old wooden box in the shape of a Swiss chalet, filled with folded pieces of paper. I took out the top one and handed it to Izzie. She read it aloud.

“Dear fairies, thank you very much for looking after the woods because the trees are all things bright and beautiful like we sing at assembly. If I can have a wish please can it be to have a proper family? Lots of love, Amelia.”

“Oh, Robin – that's so lovely but so sad.” There were tears in her eyes and I wished whole-heartedly that the child had had a less distressing request. To distract Izzie I led her around the back of the tree.

“The amazing thing is – the fairies reply.” And I showed her a plastic folder tacked to the trunk, full of letters from the fairies to the children.

Her chest heaved as she tried to stifle a sob.

“Izzie – Izzie – what is it?” I hugged her to me and after a few moments she sniffed and looked up.

“I'm sorry, Robin. I don't want to spoil today – I'll be fine in a moment.” But her voice was cracking again and I couldn't help but touch her cheek. She tilted her face towards me and then we were kissing and I could taste salt and the inside of her mouth at the same time.

After a little while she pulled away. “That shouldn't have happened – not now in any case.”

“Paul?”

She looked down at her right plimsoll, which seemed to be making circles in the dust of its own accord. “He thinks I'm at the rowing club. I never lied to him before I met you, but… but I just wanted to see you. Robin – I'm in such a mess.”

The roof of my mouth went dry. “It's OK, Izzie. Take your time to decide what's right for you to do about Paul. I'll wait.”

She grabbed my hands again. “It won't be long, I promise. I'll use the holiday to…” But her voice was cut off by a yell for help from the river. We stood for a moment, listening – it was a child – just kids larking about? But no – it came again and it sounded like genuine distress.

“Follow me,” I called to Izzie and started to run along the path.

It wasn't a quick descent to the water. I knew a deep gully cut through the woods and I could tell the voice came from beyond it. Or rather voices, because the next time there were two yells, increasingly loud and desperate. I stopped and cupped my hands.

“Don't panic – we're coming!” I shouted. “Where are you?”

“In the river.”

“Where?”

“By… by the big bend.”

Izzie had caught up and we were off again to the edge of the woods and down a path that ran alongside a field. At the bottom was a wide strip of land where the Hamble had been dumping silt for generations as it curved towards the sea. And sure enough, about a third of the way across the river were two children – one of them little more than a toddler – clinging to each other as the water swirled around the taller one's knees.

“Don't try to move – I'm on my way,” I called and started peeling off my shoes and clothes. Izzie bent to remove her plimsolls but I stopped her. “Stay here – you don't know the river this far up.”

“I want to help.”

“Well stay on the bank and if I get into trouble run for your life up that field – there's a farm at the top. But I should be OK – I can probably pick my way to them across the sandbanks – they can't have crossed the main channel.”

I walked to where the end of the spit was being submerged by the rising tide and started into the water, following the ridge of silt as far as I could. The river wasn't wide – only about ten yards, but it was freezing cold and I had to make my way upstream to reach the children. I could tell now that the older one was a boy of about seven or eight but the smaller child was clinging to him so hard all I could see was a red T-shirt and a tangle of fair hair.

I was near enough to talk to the boy and tell him to stand firm and stay calm.

“But it's getting deeper,” he whimpered.

“It's OK – it's only the tide coming up and it's not happening that fast. I'll take the little one first then come back for you.” That was moments before I realised they were the other side of the deep channel and I cursed inwardly.

I edged as close to them as I could. I could swim to reach them, but then what? They were entirely surrounded by water
and I couldn't hold two children out of it for very long. But I was almost within touching distance and it gave me an idea.

I looked back at Izzie on the bank. “Can you manage to follow the way I came?” I called. She'd tucked up her dress and was in the water almost before I'd finished speaking.

“OK,” I told the boy. “You hand the little one to me, I'll hand him to Izzie and then I'll come back for you. I won't get out of this river without you, I promise.”

The boy was shivering but he nodded. “G…go with the man, Toby,” he said, but Toby wouldn't relax his grip.

“Toby,” he tried again. “You have to. Gran will be really cross. He's going to carry you to that nice lady then come back for me.” His voice shook despite his attempt to sound brave.