Read Online The Unfinished Garden by Barbara Claypole White - Free Book Online Page A

that won’t
cooperate.” Isaac paused. “I think we should help James.”
    “Nicely expressed, Angel Bug. I’ll consider your opinion, but
right now you need sleep.” And I need peace and quiet. Tilly patted fleecy travel blanket into the gaps around Isaac.
    “Tell me the story of how you and Daddy met.”
    Tilly covered her mouth. At best, this story was happiness and
despair tied up with a bow. At worst, it was a form of self-mutilation, a cut
that bled with the life she had lost, or rather thrown away.
    “Please?” Isaac looked up with huge Haddington eyes, as pale as
her father’s had been. Thank God for genetics. Even a hint of them tethered you
to the past.
    Tilly smoothed down his bushy hair but it bounced free,
sticking out every which way. “Our story begins one summer.”
    “Just like now, Mommy.”
    “Except this summer is a new chapter in the epic story of Isaac
and Super Mom.” Tilly struck her Popeye pose and Isaac snickered. Given the
turmoil in her gut, however, Tilly felt less as if she were about to write an
exciting new chapter in their lives, and more as if she were free-falling
without a parachute, waiting for the big splat when Sari destroyed her business,
and Sebastian…. Great, now she had Sebastian to worry about as well as
James.
    Isaac poked her. “Mom? Are you asleep?”
    “Miles away. Sorry.” She resumed stroking Isaac’s hair. “It was
a beautiful Saturday in June.” Fourteen years ago last week, another notch on
the totem pole of survival. Isaac wriggled into her, as if trying to crawl back
into her womb. “I had run away from London and escaped to Bramwell Chase for the
weekend. Grammy was off with the historical society, and Grandpa was due back
from Northampton for lunch. We had the whole afternoon planned: work on the
roses, then hike across the estate. I was propping open the gates for him when—”
She didn’t want to remember this, not tonight. Tonight she just wanted
oblivion.
    “When you heard this funny noise because Daddy didn’t know how
to drive a stick, and he’d borrowed some old banger.” Isaac over-enunciated the
last two words using a perfect English accent. Tilly swaddled him into her.
    “This MG lurched up the High Street, gears crashing. Your
father said that was the summer he discovered his two great loves: MGBs and me.
Of course, that was before you were born and became more precious than
anything.” Isaac made a soft noise, like a kitten’s mew. “Daddy bought his MGB
after he got home. The 1972 Roadster that will be yours one day.” If it survives being shrouded under a tarpaulin in the
garage.
    Her heart contracted at the memory of dark ringlets framing
David’s face and his chestnut eyes sparked with ambition. She’d wanted to lose
herself in those eyes, and she had. Watching David, as he enchanted a lecture
hall or entertained a room of friends, could leave her paralyzed with love. And
yet however large his audience, however far away Tilly sat or stood, his eyes
always found her. She pushed the heel of her hand into her heart, but the pain
tightened. How had she navigated three years without him, without his adoration,
without his need to share every joy and every disappointment with her?
    She took a shallow breath. “The car stopped, and the most
gorgeous man I had ever seen stuck his head out of the window and said, ‘Hey
there. Can you help me?’ And I thought, I’ll help you with anything you
like.”
    Isaac’s giggle dissolved into a yawn. “Daddy was on his way to
a conference, but he got lost ’cos he didn’t believe in reading maps.”
    “Only your father could take off across a foreign country and
assume he’d end up where he wanted to be. When he explained he was looking for
the Open University, I laughed so hard I couldn’t tell him anything, and Daddy
started laughing—”
    “And Grandpa turned up. And he liked Daddy straightaway.”
    “Absolutely.” How could anyone not? David always had the right
words,