‘It’s so lovely and peaceful up here,’ sighs Doreen.
Betty nods. ‘It’s perfect. All you can hear is the rustle of the leaves and the birds chirruping so close by. There’s something really soothing about sitting in the treetops. Things really do look different from up here. In more ways than one.’
‘Ooh, get you!’ Doreen laughs. ‘A regular little philosopher, you are.’
We all laugh. But I, for one, think Betty is right. Taking my worries to the treehouse always seems to help …
*****
My mind flashes way back in time, to the eve of the school leavers’ ball. Being in the treehouse with Paloma, terrified that Jason was about to break up with me.
We were eighteen and we’d been together for three years by then. The ball marked the end of school and the beginning of a whole new life for both of us, but I’d never had any doubts that whatever Jason and I did, we would do it together.
But the week before the ball, he seemed odd. Distracted. I kept asking him if he’d sorted out his suit for the night, but he just kept saying there was plenty of time to think about that, which there quite obviously wasn’t. I asked him if things were okay between us and he said of course they were. He thought he had a cold coming on and was feeling a bit low, that was all.
But I remember feeling so uneasy, I confided in Paloma.
We were up in my bedroom and she’d brought over the dress Linda had bought her for the ball – a long, silky creation in deep pink that contrasted wonderfully with her dark hair.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, sensing I wasn’t myself.
And then it all came out, in between sobs. How Jason had been so distant lately and I was terrified he was going to end our relationship. Mum knocked on the door and asked if I was all right.
‘Just a bit of boy trouble,’ sang out Paloma.
Then she whispered, ‘Come on. Let’s go out to the treehouse.’
So, we escaped to my little world among the branches and as my best friend gave me a pep talk, I stared out over the garden, hoping Paloma was right and that my worries about Jason would turn out to be nothing at all.
Up in the treehouse, breathing in the scented air that rustled through the leaves, I always felt calmer and more able to think straight. I decided that if we made it to the school leavers’ ball, things would be okay. If not – well, I didn’t want to think about what would happen then. Jason was my first love and I could never in a million years have imagined being in this position, worrying that he might be going off me.
But if it happened, I’d cope …
As it turned out, I had built a crisis out of nothing. I phoned Jason and asked him if he really wanted to go to the ball with me, and he said of course he did and what a strange thing to ask.
He sounded quite cross with me for doubting him, and I remember the relief flooding through me. Things were okay between us after all.
I said he’d been distant with me and he explained that he’d been worried about what would happen to us, now we were leaving school and everything in our lives was about to change. I knew he hated the idea of me going off to university. But that night, at the ball, I did everything I could to reassure Jason that even though our relationship would be long-distance for a few years, the way I felt about him would never change. We’d survive the separation because we were so strong together.
He still seemed a little quiet. But then the next day, he came down with a horrible dose of flu and I told myself that must have been the problem all along …
*****
When Betty and Doreen leave, Paloma and I tidy up and wash the glasses while we wait for more people to turn up.
Paloma seems distracted now that the visitors have gone, and she washes the same glass for ages while I wait with the tea towel. At last, she turns and hands me the glass. ‘I went to Old Mill Road yesterday.’ Her eyes sparkle with excitement. ‘I think I know which house Mum lived in. My birth mum, I mean.’
‘Really? Oh my God.’ I grasp her arm and throw down the tea towel. I’ve got butterflies and it’s not even my mum! ‘How did you know which house it was?’
Paloma abandons the washing-up. ‘The only thing Mum remembered from the time she adopted me was seeing a blurry photo of me in my birth mum’s arms in front of a red door with an old-fashioned bell-pull in Old Mill Road. When I got there, there were no red doors in the street, so it’s obviously been changed – but … there was only one house I could see that had—’
‘An old-fashioned bell-pull!’ My eyes widen. ‘Bloody hell! So did you knock on the door?’
She shakes her head. ‘I felt so sick with nerves and excitement to think I might be standing right outside the house where my birth mum grew up, I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to walk up the path.’ She closes her eyes and swallows hard, remembering. ‘But I will. I definitely will.’
I nod. ‘I’ll come with you, if
