The Paradise Trees by Linda Huber

town life. Jenny was being enthusiastic, and Alicia was managing to ignore the fact that her daughter was sneaking bits of bacon down to the little cat crouched beneath her chair. Conker, as
usual when meat of any kind was on the menu, had been banished to the garden and was whining from behind the back door. His nose must be thoroughly out of joint, thought Alicia, smiling to herself.
Jen had spent most of her time since Thursday inside playing with Moritz, who was both more agile and funnier than poor Conker, a typical climbing-the-curtains kitten, in fact, and naturally Jen
loved that. But maybe the great outdoors would beckon again; after three days of showers, today was sunny and dry. Her daughter’s next words confirmed this.
    ‘Can we have a picnic lunch in the woods afterwards?’ asked Jenny, letting Moritz lick her fingers clean. Alicia poured her a glass of milk.
    ‘You wash those hands before you do another thing, my lamb,’ she said. A picnic lunch with her father in tow... no way. She smiled her persuasive best at Jenny and continued
cautiously.
    ‘Well, we could have a picnic in the garden if you like, but we can’t really take Grandpa to the woods.’
    Jenny’s face fell. ‘I wanted to show you my special place now the sun’s shining.’
    Alicia sighed. Poor scrap, it was a sad day when a simple request like a picnic had to be refused. What Jen needed here was a friend of the two-legged variety. There must be other eight-year-old
girls in the village? They could ask Frank, he would know.
    ‘And I’m dying to see it, it sounds brilliant,’ she said, pouring herself another coffee. ‘But not with Grandpa. Tell you what. I’ll make you and Conker a picnic
for today. Then when Aunt Margaret gets back, you and me’ll have a real day out somewhere – woods, river, swimming pool – whatever you like. You can plan it. Scoot and do your
teeth now and I’ll make you some peanut butter sandwiches.’
    ‘Yum,’ said Jenny, and raced back upstairs with Moritz under her arm. Alicia followed on. Better get her father up before he messed the bed again. He was agitated and uncooperative
today, but at least he was clean and dry. She was settling him into his chair in the living room when Jenny called from upstairs.
    ‘Mummy! I can’t find Moritz!’
    Alicia’s lips twitched. ‘Find Moritz’ was probably going to be the most-played game that summer. She ran upstairs to help before Jenny became frantic. There were only the four
bedrooms, but Moritz seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth. It was ten minutes at least before they discovered him crouched behind the bin in the bathroom.
    ‘Bad kitty!’ Jenny scooped him up and covered him with kisses.
    Alicia laughed. ‘He’s been running around avoiding us all this time. Let’s get him a collar with a bell on it,’ she said, scratching Moritz’s ears. He
was
cute. ‘Take him downstairs, lovey. I’ll just air the rooms while I’m up here.’
    She fluffed up pillows and opened windows, listening as Jenny bossed Conker around in the kitchen. Alicia sighed. What was going to happen there? Would Margaret still want a creature like Conker
if – when – she wasn’t living here anymore? A sudden vision of Conker’s large, ungainly form in her own compact two bedroom flat made Alicia shudder, then smile. And now
she’d better grill some bacon for her father’s roll.
    She made Jenny’s sandwiches while the bacon was grilling, and waved as the little girl and the big dog loped off together down the garden. Right, breakfast was ready. Carefully, she lifted
the loaded tray.
    ‘Here we are at last,’ she said, edging round the living room door.
    The room was empty. Alicia stood there stupidly.
    ‘Where are you?’
    Not in here, anyway, so much was clear, there was no place in this room where a grown man could hide even if he’d wanted to. Alicia glanced up and down the hallway.
    ‘Hello? Bob? Breakfast!’ But of course there