The Perfect Retreat

CHAPTER NINETEEN




Ivo leaned over Kitty in the car and pulled open the glove box.

‘You can be navigator,’ he said, and threw a map onto her lap.

‘I don’t do maps,’ said Kitty. ‘Absolutely hopeless,’ she said apologetically.

Ivo pulled over. ‘Really?’

‘No idea, I’m sorry,’ she said, and she smiled at him so sweetly that Ivo thought for a moment he could forgive her anything.

‘OK, give it here,’ he said, and he traced a line over the map. Kitty shuddered slightly imagining that finger running over her body.

‘You cold?’ he asked.

‘No, I’m fine,’ she said, embarrassed. ‘Where’re we going?’ she asked quickly to change the subject.

‘A surprise,’ said Ivo and he started up the engine.

‘Alright. Off we go,’ he said and he drove the little hire car fast through the country lanes until they were on the motorway.

‘Are we going to London?’ asked Kitty, looking at the motorway that she and Willow had travelled on weeks before.

‘Yes. Now stop prying – I want to know all about you,’ said Ivo.

‘There’s nothing to know,’ she said, but with Ivo’s clever questioning and his continual interest in her answers Kitty found herself sounding quite fascinating, as she aired her opinions on education and child raising and celebrity and the perfect bacon sandwich.

In turn Ivo found himself telling her about his schooling, his lack of direction and falling into the film by mistake. His father’s disapproval of his choices and his discouragement of acting when in fact he himself had acted as a younger man.

‘At least he gives a shit,’ said Kitty moodily as they sat in London traffic.

‘True,’ said Ivo, remembering her mentioning her father’s lack of interest in her.

Ivo pulled into a car park and put a disabled sticker on the windscreen. ‘Where did you get that?’ she asked, shocked.

‘It’s a friend of mine’s mother’s. She doesn’t need it – hasn’t driven for years – so I bought it off him for emergencies,’ said Ivo, and he took Kitty’s arm in his and walked them down the street. Kitty saw a few heads turn as they sauntered down the street chatting.

‘Do you get used to it?’ she asked as they walked.

‘To what?’ he asked.

‘To people looking at you because you are so handsome,’ she said, without a trace of flirtation.

Ivo stopped in the street and looked at her. ‘No, silly. It’s not me they’re looking at, it’s you.’ He laughed.

Kitty made a face at him and he dragged her to a shop window. ‘Look at you,’ he said, and Kitty looked at them both, so casually cool and sexy. She smiled.

‘Maybe they are looking at us,’ she admitted.

Ivo was intoxicating. No man this gorgeous had ever been interested in her, and she wondered what he saw in the shop reflection that she couldn’t see.

They walked and talked until they arrived. ‘We’re here,’ he announced proudly, and Kitty looked up.

‘Wow,’ she said. ‘What are we going to do here?’

‘Look at art, silly,’ chided Ivo gently, and he pulled her into the Victoria and Albert Museum.

Kitty breathed a sigh of relief. I’m glad it’s not a library, she thought.

Taking her to the second floor, he walked through the imposing doors and took her to a large painting.

‘Look,’ he said proudly, and Kitty looked up at a painting of a woman standing inside a conservatory, surrounded by fruit. She was wearing a white dress with a yellow ribbon around her waist, and Kitty thought she looked happy.

‘She’s pretty,’ said Kitty.

‘She’s you,’ said Ivo, looking at her.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Kitty, confused. She looked again at the woman in the painting; she did bear some resemblance to Kitty. Dark hair, dark eyes; but that was all she could see.

‘Read the label,’ said Ivo, his voice filled with excitement. ‘I knew you reminded me of someone, and I couldn’t think who. Read,’ he said, and he pushed her towards it.

Kitty looked at the words and started to feel the tears prick at her eyes. She blinked several times, aware that Ivo was watching for her reaction.

She looked at him. ‘That’s amazing,’ she said, her voice hollow, and Ivo looked at her, sudden understanding clouding his face.

It all made sense.

‘You can’t read, can you Kit?’ he asked softly, and Kitty felt the tears fall. She ran from the gallery, tripping down the stairs into the light outside.

Ivo rushed to follow her small figure crossing the street.

‘Kitty, Kit!’ he called, but she kept running away from him, away from the words.

You stupid idiot, she thought, of course he was going to find out – he’s so clever and I’m so dumb. She kept pushing through the crowds of people. When she stopped and looked up she realised she had no idea where she was.

She felt herself being spun around. ‘Kitty! Kitty.’ Ivo was breathing heavily.

‘Go away!’ she cried, and she pushed him; but he remained in front of her.

‘Kitty, it’s fine, really,’ he said, and he took her to the side of the busy street, ignoring the faces peering at the attractive couple having a lovers’ tiff.

‘It’s not fine. No, I can’t read, and now you know,’ she spat at him.

‘It’s all OK, really it is Kitty,’ said Ivo helplessly. He had no idea what to say. He had thought something was up when he asked her to read the map, and now it all came together. Her refusing to help him with the script; asking him to read the journals; not wanting a menu at the village pub.

Kitty started to cry openly now, and snot and tears poured over her face, ruining Willow’s makeover.

‘You have no idea how hard it is to be me. To be so stupid. I can’t do anything, ever. I want to, but I don’t know how. The letters and words don’t make any sense,’ she cried, and Ivo thought she looked about four years old.

‘So now you can go and be smart somewhere else and I will leave you alone because I’m so stupid,’ she said angrily.

‘Kitty, that makes no sense. Why would I want to go somewhere else because you can’t read? For f*ck’s sake,’ said Ivo, angry now. ‘I don’t give a shit about you reading. Trust me, there are plenty of genuinely stupid people who know how to read,’ he said.

‘Who?’ asked Kitty forlornly.

‘Me,’ answered Ivo.

‘Don’t be daft. You’re so smart and I wish I were like you. That’s why I’ve been hanging around you even though I said I wasn’t interested. It’s not that you aren’t attractive – you are – but when I’m with you I feel smarter,’ cried Kitty.

Ivo felt his heart melt. He took Kitty into his arms and hugged her tight. ‘Don’t worry Kits, we can work this out,’ he said, and he held her till her sobs subsided.

She pulled away from him and looked in her bag for a tissue, but all she found was an old packet of dried-out baby wipes. She wiped her nose. Ivo took one from her, wiped her eye makeup away and stood back to look at her.

‘Better,’ he said, and he took her hand.

‘Come on, I’m not letting a silly thing like you not being able to read twenty-six letters get in the way. I can think of twenty-six things that I don’t know, so let’s call it even,’ he said, and he took Kitty by the hand and led her back to the museum.

As they walked back to the painting, Ivo spoke. ‘The reason I wanted you to see this is because this is your great-great-great-grandmother, the woman whose journals you let me read. This is her, and I think she bears a striking resemblance to you. Now you look while I read to you what this label says.’

Kitty stood back, trying to compose herself.

‘This painting is called In the Orangery by George Middlemist – 1851. George Middlemist used his wife, Clementina, as his model for many of his paintings. Clementina was born in France to wealthy parents who disapproved of the marriage. She and George resided at their home Middlemist House. The orangery was built for Clementina and filled with exotic fruits, including clementines, which symbolise joy. Soon after this painting was finished Clementina had their first child, Albert. Who was your great-great-grandfather,’ pointed out Ivo proudly.

Kitty forgot about her problem for a moment and stood gazing in wonder at the painting. ‘Didn’t you know about this?’ asked Ivo.

‘No idea,’ said Kitty. ‘Actually I don’t know anything about George at all,’ Kitty said, embarrassed.

‘We have to sort that out,’ said Ivo. ‘I know so much about him, and about art. How about I tell you?’ he said, liking the feeling of usefulness that washed over him.

Kitty looked up at him shyly. ‘I would like that,’ she said, and Ivo felt proud of himself and proud of her for telling him.

‘Now, we need a drink,’ he said. Kitty nodded, desperate for something to calm her nerves.

Ivo took her hand and they walked towards the nearest pub and sat down. It was cosy and not crowded and Kitty felt herself relax slightly.

‘Gin and tonic?’ asked Ivo, and she nodded. He gave the order to the waiter and they sat quietly till the drinks were served.

‘So I have to ask you about it,’ said Ivo, and Kitty grimaced. ‘Just so I understand,’ he added gently. ‘How did you get through school?’

‘I didn’t. I fudged my way through for as long as I could and then I left once a few teachers began to get clued in,’ she said, twisting the drink in her nervous hands.

‘How do you get through life?’ he asked. ‘Forms, banking, driving, reading to the children?’

‘I don’t drive. I look at the pictures in the story books and I just make it up.’ Kitty paused. ‘You actually get to be quite clever. I got someone at the bank to show me how to use the ATM a few times and then I just remembered the process, and when I have really hard forms to fill in …’ she took a deep breath, ‘I wear a sling.’

‘A sling?’ asked Ivo, confused.

‘Yes. I pretend I’ve hurt my arm and get someone at the place to fill it in for me,’ she said, taking a sip of her gin and tonic.

‘Jesus,’ said Ivo, trying to imagine his life without reading. ‘Does your brother know?’

‘No, he just thinks I’m a bit thick,’ she said sadly.

‘I’m sure he doesn’t,’ said Ivo, frowning.

‘He does. Everyone does,’ she said, feeling tears springing into her eyes again. ‘I think that’s the hardest part,’ she said quietly.

‘What?’ asked Ivo.

‘Being underestimated. Nobody having any expectations of you. When you talked about your father and how he was disappointed with your choices because he thought you could be so much more, I wondered what that was like. My father had no expectations of me. My mother got sick when I was five years old, when I should have been learning to read, and it kind of took over the house. Merritt was so much older than me – he wasn’t about to sit and explain the letters to me. Then Mummy died and I was forgotten. I guess that’s why I’m with children; they don’t know any better, and they don’t realise that I’m the same intellectual age as them,’ she said sadly.

‘Oh bullshit. You’re not retarded, you just don’t know how to read,’ said Ivo, impatiently.

‘You don’t understand,’ said Kitty crossly. ‘It seems so big now, the whole reading thing. It’s like a giant mountain of letters jeering at me.’

Ivo sat thinking about his father and the last time he had seen him, when he had gone to borrow money from his mother. His father’s words rang in his ears.

‘Ivo, you are wasting your future and your talents. You are making a complete cock-up of your life. Do something with it, boy, or stay away. You hear me?’

He held Kitty’s hand over the table.

‘Kits,’ he said, and she looked up at him sadly. ‘How about I help you? I’m not a teacher but I can help you read the letters. I could look it up on the internet,’ he said, wondering if he could do it.

Kitty looked up, her eyes red ringed – but still so beautiful, he thought. ‘Could you?’ she asked.

‘I could try,’ said Ivo, feeling more confident as he looked at her. She gave him a watery smile.

‘Well, I guess I could try too. Can you promise me one thing?’ she asked.

‘Anything,’ he answered, looking at her pinched face.

‘Can you promise to not tell anyone? Ever?’ she implored him.

‘Of course,’ he said.

‘No, I mean it. No one must ever know. Do you promise?’ she asked him again urgently.

‘I promise, Kitty. Cross my heart and hope to die,’ he said gravely.

She smiled wanly. They finished their drinks and walked side by side back to the car in silence, each absorbed in the thought of the task ahead of them.

As Ivo unlocked the car Kitty got into the passenger seat, held up the disabled sign and looked at it.

‘At least you have a real reason to use this now, at least whenever I’m in the car,’ she said sadly, a single tear falling down her cheek, and Ivo couldn’t help himself. He burst into laughter.

Kitty looked at him, shocked, and then she started to see the funny side of it and laughed with him.

And Kitty felt like she had just made it to first base camp on the mountain that loomed before her.