Where Memories Are Made (2 page)

He'd manoeuvred himself around the tower support and was now on the inside face. His sudden appearance had the woman scream piercingly, obviously having trouble deciding whether she was seeing an apparition or if in fact it was a real person. Finally she made up her mind and called to Dan: ‘Oh, thank God, thank God! You've come to save us. I thought we'd been forgotten about. I thought we were going to die up here.'

Sitting at the far side of the seat, she was barely five feet away from Dan but the wind was preventing him from hearing everything she said, though he did manage to make out that she was glad to see him. Then, to his horror, he saw her flip back the safety bar and encourage her terrified daughter to stand up and stretch out her arms towards Dan. The mother obviously believed he was part of a rescue team. But even if he could have managed to anchor himself safely and lift the child over to the tower, there was no way a little girl could climb back down in any weather, let alone a gale. He'd be left fighting to keep her from being blown away as they descended, as well as looking out for himself. She was far safer staying in her seat until the rescuers arrived. In desperation Dan hollered at the woman to explain this, but couldn't make her understand him.

Sobbing in terror, the young girl was now standing on the short footrest, wobbling precariously despite her mother holding on to her legs, arms outstretched towards Dan. Panic engulfed him. It was inevitable that the wind and lashing rain, which at the moment the slight-framed youngster was miraculously managing to brace herself against, would knock her off balance – and then there was nothing between her and the ground eighty feet below. Somehow he had to make the mother get her child seated again and the safety bar pulled back. The only thing he knew he could do to achieve that was get closer to her so she could hear what he told her.

Under normal circumstances, jumping from the tower on to one of the wheel-support bars spanning the middle of two perpendicular spokes, a distance of a yard or so, then swinging himself monkey-like across the gap between the wheel and the seat, was something Dan wouldn't have thought twice about, but conditions now were anything but normal. He would need to time his jump with the unpredictable swaying of the seat, and it was vitally important that he didn't brush against the child or he'd be responsible for sending her crashing to her death.

He was preparing to launch himself when, to his utter shock, he realised the woman was now actively urging the reluctant girl to jump across to him. Panic rushed through him. Any second now she might just do it. Without another thought, he took a leap over to the wheel-spoke bar, just managing to keep a grip on the wet, slippery metal. So far so good. Then, with a huge effort, he swung his body against the relentless wind to give himself momentum and launched out towards the cab, praying that its forward swing would coincide with his landing.

As he made to grab the cab's bars, though, the wind blew it backward. The bars were suddenly out of his reach. He found himself grasping at thin air, and the next thing he knew he was plummeting downwards.

Dan's last vision was of his beloved wife; his last thoughts that he would never gaze into her beautiful blue eyes again, hold her in his arms, feel her lips on his, be a father to their children. His last emotion was one of indescribable sadness that the long life together they had planned had been cut so cruelly short.

I
n deep concern Artie Fleming watched Drina, the woman he dearly loved and hoped some day to make his wife, as she paced back and forth on the kitchen floor, her homely face wreathed in worry, wringing her hands together. Shaking his head in utter helplessness, Artie said to her, ‘I've no idea what to suggest, love. I'm at a loss, I really am.'

Drina Jolly stopped her pacing and turned to face him. ‘So am I. But there must be something we haven't tried yet to make Rhonnie see that her life is still worth living. I was so hoping for an improvement in her today, but in fact she's worse. I've hardly had a word out of her. She didn't attempt to eat any of her breakfast, and when I called in late this afternoon she hadn't touched the lunch I had made for her either. How did you find her when you went in today?'

He sighed heavily. ‘Same as you, love. Lost in her own world, hardly acknowledging I was there. It's like she doesn't feel she has anything left to live for, and is willing her own death so she can be with Dan.'

Drina came over to the table and took a chair opposite him. She fiddled anxiously with a button on her pink twinset. Fixing her eyes on him, she said with conviction, ‘In Rhonnie's defence, if I lost you so unexpectedly then I'd feel life wasn't worth living either.'

Artie leaned over, gave her hand an affectionate pat and tenderly told her, ‘The same goes for me too.' He sat back and rubbed one hand over his chin thoughtfully. Artie had vowed to himself on the day they first got together that he would do everything in his power to give her a happy and contented life from then on – to try and make up to her for the misery and betrayal she'd endured from her late husband Joe Jolly.

He had been a destitute travelling Romany who had seen his chance to better himself by marriage to an heiress. Artie couldn't deny that Joe had used his wife's legacy to build a profitable holiday camp business, and had given her a lavish lifestyle. Through hard work and determination Joe had come to be perceived as a pillar of the community and a respectable family man, above reproach – though he was anything but.

In material terms Joe had been generous with Drina; emotionally he had been withdrawn and a serial philanderer who had deceived her with a succession of women, though only one had meant anything to him. The worst thing of all was that Drina had known all about his infidelity, and had been forced to turn a blind eye as Joe kept a stranglehold on the family finances and business. Their son Michael bitterly resented his father's authoritarian stance and they had fallen out. Michael had been banned from the family home at the time of Joe's death – though this hadn't stopped Drina's son from returning to the camp and robbing the safe and walking away from his father's fatal heart attack without lifting a finger to help him.

Until the reading of the will neither Drina nor Michael had had any idea that Daniel Buckland, the child of Joe's deceased cousin and his wife, had in fact been Joe's all along and neither had Daniel himself either. His mother had been the true love of Joe's life, he having persuaded her to stand back and go along with his plan of bettering life for the three of them by marrying a wealthy girl.

Dan had grown into a handsome, capable and popular young man who had stolen Artie's daughter's heart and married her two years ago. He had discovered the truth about his parentage at the same time, on being named sole beneficiary of Joe's estate. Michael had vowed revenge on him, and had been determined to gain possession of what he saw as rightfully his. Dan, though, a young man of high principles, had insisted on signing over his inheritance to Drina, feeling it rightfully belonged to her. She had only accepted his generosity on proviso that she, Dan and Rhonnie became equal partners in the holiday camp, and had stipulated that on her retirement or death the estate would be passed lock, stock and barrel back to Dan and Rhonnie and any children they may have by then.

Dan's shocking and untimely death had deeply affected everyone who had known him, but life went on. There was a demanding business to be run, but Rhonnie would play no part in it.

Her grief at her loss of her soulmate was as all-consuming now as it had been the moment she had first cradled his crumpled body in her arms. From that moment on she had no choice but to accept that something inside her was dead, and nothing either her father or her surrogate mother Drina had tried had succeeded in making her reconsider. From the night of Dan's death Rhonnie had not left the cottage, except to attend the funeral where she had to be supported throughout by Artie and Drina. Immediately it was over she had insisted on returning to the cottage and nothing had persuaded her to venture out of it since.

After the funeral she had stripped off her clothes and redressed herself in a pair of Dan's old pyjamas and his dressing gown. Drina managed to coax her into taking the odd bath, but Rhonnie had refused to allow Dan's clothes to be washed, no matter how much Drina pleaded with her. Nor would Rhonnie allow her to launder the bedclothes. The clothes and the bedding still smelled of Dan, and for as long as that lasted Rhonnie felt he was still with her.

If she wasn't in bed, weeping into Dan's pillow, Drina or Artie would find her huddled in his favourite armchair, clutching the teddy bear he had won at the fair on their very first date together. She spoke very little; conversation was limited to barely more than yes or no. It was doubtful she would bother to eat unless Drina stood over her and bullied her into at least a mouthful or two of the tempting meals that were made for her. Rhonnie had lost more weight than her previously slim figure allowed; she was beginning to look gaunt and hollow-eyed. She was locked in a deep, dark hole of despair. After a month of trying everything they could think of to help, the people who loved her had begun to despair of ever finding a way to rescue her.

Tears were glinting in Drina's eyes as she uttered, ‘Oh, Artie, why did Him up there have to pick on Dan when he had such a bright future ahead of him? It's said God moves in mysterious ways but I defy anyone to understand just why, in His infinite wisdom, He saw fit to end the life of a good man like that. Dan will be missed dreadfully by all who knew him, and Rhonnie's life is shattered into the bargain. Why couldn't He have chosen any number of those who are nothing more than a blight on society?'

Artie gave a shrug and sighed, ‘I don't know, love. Only He can answer that, and I'm sure you'll be tackling Him about it when your time comes.'

Drina responded with conviction, ‘I certainly will be. I hope he's got a good answer for me or else I will be questioning His so-called wisdom.'

They both lapsed into silence for a while, each willing themself to think of something they hadn't yet come up with to help Rhonnie on her road to recovery.

Finally Drina said, ‘I think the time has come for us to be cruel to be kind, so to speak.'

Artie frowned at her quizzically. ‘And by that you mean …?'

She heaved a sigh. ‘Well, I very much fear that if we don't take matters into our own hands, force Rhonnie into doing something by not taking no for an answer, we'll end up burying her too.'

His face ashen at the very thought, he said vehemently, ‘We can't have that.' He then looked dubiously at her. ‘So you're suggesting we drag her out of the cottage bodily, are you?'

‘Yes. Unless you can come up with another way to get Rhonnie dressed and out of the house? Even a walk round the garden would be a start.' Drina frowned worriedly. ‘But that's just it, isn't it?'

Artie pushed aside his half-eaten dinner. Drina had barely touched hers, he noticed. ‘What is, dear?' he asked.

‘Well, everywhere she looks there are happy memories of Dan, aren't there? Constant reminders of her loss. The cottage where they lived together; the garden where they sat on a warm evening after work; the camp … well, every corner of that place holds memories of Dan for Rhonnie.' Drina paused for a moment before she went on, ‘I think we need to get her well away from these constant reminders. It's not that I expect her to forget him for one moment, but at least freed from memories of him around her she'll be able to concentrate on accepting that there is a life for her without Dan in it.'

Artie remembered his own loss. He nodded and said grimly, ‘When I lost Hilda, I faced the same problem. Rhonnie insisted that me moping round the house wasn't helping me to pick up my life again so I agreed to go out for a pint. But I couldn't face the memories the local held of my wife and the many good times I'd had with her there, so instead I opted to go to another pub nearby. Had I known what that decision would cost me, I would never have gone.' He added ruefully, ‘I met Mavis there that night.'

Drina smiled affectionately at him. Artie was well padded and ordinary-looking, but to her he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. She leaned forward and tenderly stroked his hand. ‘Yes, well, my dear, there is another way of looking at it. If you hadn't met Mavis that night then you wouldn't have arrived here in search of Rhonnie after Mavis had driven her out of her own home – and then you and I would never have met and been living happily together now. So, for you, Mavis was in fact a blessing in disguise! I know
I've
a lot to thank her for. I never thought I would know what it feels like to be loved and cherished, but since you've been in my life every moment is a joy to me. When Joe was alive things were very different.'

Artie looked at her in surprise. ‘I've never looked at it like that. I really do have a lot to thank Mavis for, don't I? So what's the plan for getting Rhonnie away from here? Only God knows how we do, considering that we've already tried everything we can think of to get her up and dressed, let alone out of the house.'

Drina gave a secretive smile as she pushed back her chair and got up, saying, ‘I'll make us a cup of tea and then I'll tell you what we'll do.'

The small kitchen in the two-bedroomed white-washed cottage Drina now lived in with Artie was a far cry from the four-bedroomed, lavishly furnished Victorian villa in its acre of grounds that she had lived in with Joe. This was definitely not the sort of dwelling where people would expect the owner of a thriving business to live, but Drina didn't care what others thought – she wouldn't swap her little cottage for the world. Unlike her last husband, Artie adored Drina for herself … not her money.

She had met him when he'd arrived at the camp in a terrible state, in search of his daughter Rhonnie. Mavis, the woman who had taken the place of his dead wife Hilda, had totally fooled Artie, playing the part of the loving, dutiful wife while he slaved away as a long-distance lorry driver in order to keep a roof over her and his step-daughter's head. Rhonnie had known what Mavis was doing but had been unable to break her father's heart by telling him so had left home in disgust. Then Artie had discovered that Mavis was deceiving him with other men while he was away working, and had arrived at the camp in search of his daughter, a broken man. Dan had given him a temporary job on his maintenance team while he recovered from his ordeal, which was made permanent when he decided to stay on.