Free The Paradise Trees by Linda Huber Page A

eyes. Could he be interested in her? It was years since she’d had
anything approaching a serious relationship, but somehow it was easy to picture herself with him. Grinning, she grabbed her bag.
    Don’t go into the bad room
.
    This time the child’s voice could almost have been real. Alicia stopped dead, level with her father’s bedroom. Dear God,
what
had gone on in there? Had they left her in the
darkness of her father’s bedroom as a punishment? Or had it been more than that?
    She stood there thinking. He might have abused her. Maybe not rape but he might well have undressed her, whipped her. Or
had
it been sexual abuse of some kind? In the name of religion?
Surely not, and shit, she didn’t have time to think about this right now and she didn’t want to, either. Time to put the memories – if that was what they were – away. She
would mull it all over later.
    The phone rang again as she was running downstairs, and for a moment Alicia toyed with the idea of leaving it. Better not, she decided, jumping down the last two steps and grabbing the receiver.
If it was Paul again she’d well and truly scare him off. She didn’t want him bothering Eva.
    For a moment she couldn’t place the rather high-pitched male voice, then she realised. It was the pet shop owner.
    ‘Hello again, Mrs Bryson. Just to say the little cat’s quite well again, and I haven’t found anyone who’s lost him. He’s not chipped, either. Do you still want
him?’
    Alicia hesitated and then remembered Jenny’s eyes as she’d stroked the kitten. After all, other cats lived in small flats and seemed to thrive quite well. And in a few weeks Jenny
would be leaving Conker behind in Lower Banford, so a little cat to take home with her would ease that pain quite considerably.
    ‘I think so, yes. Shall we come and get him? Jenny’s away all day unfortunately, would this evening be okay? Around seven?’
    ‘That would be perfect. I live above the shop, just come in and shout. See you both tonight.’
    Wondering if she had done the wisest thing, Alicia drove to the care home, consciously relaxing her shoulders. It was wonderful to be by herself for a while, away from her father and all his
problems. It wasn’t exactly me-time because she was still doing something connected to the old man, but at least she was getting out of the house for a bit.
    St. Joe’s looked exactly the same as it had done on Saturday when she’d been here with Frank. The same sunshine, the same old people sitting out in the same wheelchairs beside the
same rose bushes. The fate of the aged, she thought, pulling up in the visitors’ car park in front of the house. Every day was pretty much a carbon copy of the one before.
    The front door was propped open, and Alicia walked into a wide hallway where two leather sofas were placed along cream walls with flowery prints hanging at various levels. It didn’t look
like your usual NHS place, she should find out if any costs were involved here before committing herself to anything. No way could they afford a private home. Right at the back was a desk with a
bell on it, but before she reached it, Douglas Patton ran down the stairway and strode towards her, hand outstretched.
    ‘Hello, Mrs Bryson - can I call you Alicia? You know I’m Doug.’
    His huge warm hand gripped hers, and Alicia realised that her heart rate had increased. He was obviously delighted to see her, towering over her with a big grin on his face. It was difficult not
to feel like ‘the little woman’ beside him. A lovely flutter of excitement ran through her. She smiled, and regained possession of her hand. It wouldn’t do to seem too keen.
    ‘Sure. Well, here I am, and feeling a bit nervous. It’s a big decision.’
    Doug chatted reassuringly about life at the care home as he led her upstairs and round the admissions ward, seeming to understand exactly what she needed to know.
    And really, the whole place seemed ideal. Alicia stood looking