The Girl on the Cliff (45 page)

‘
Mein Gott!
’ He bent to study them more closely. ‘Grania, they are –’ he struggled to find the words – ‘unbelievable! I only wish that …’ Hans glanced at Grania, new respect in his eyes, and she knew instantly what he was thinking. ‘Alexander would have bought them all. You have captured Aurora’s energy in clay.’

‘Thank you,’ said Grania. ‘It’s been cathartic.’

‘Yes. And out of that, you have created something very beautiful.’

‘Can you stop talking about my statues and tell me what’s for lunch?’ Aurora pleaded.

The three of them spent a pleasant afternoon on Inchydoney Beach. Aurora leaped, skipped and twirled in the shallow waves and Hans and Grania sat in the dunes enjoying the warmth of the sun.

‘You are right when you say she does not seem outwardly to have been badly affected,’ commented Hans. ‘She looks … happy. Perhaps it is that she had little attention as a child. Now, she has much.’

‘And she likes an audience,’ Grania smiled as Aurora executed an effortless jeté. ‘Her ballet teacher thinks she has extraordinary potential as a dancer,’ she added. ‘And, of course, her grandmother was a famous ballerina.’

‘Then, if she wishes to pursue it, she must. As you must pursue your sculpture,’ Hans said. ‘Where do you exhibit?’

‘There’s a gallery in New York that shows my work, but in recent years I’ve been working on more and more
private commissions. It’s not what I’ve wanted to do, but at least I’ve known I can eat,’ replied Grania honestly.

‘It seems then that there is one positive thing to come out of this difficult time for you, Grania. And you know that you are a wealthy woman now.’

‘And you know, Hans, that I don’t wish to take it.’ Grania’s tone changed immediately at the mention of money.

Hans eyed her. ‘Grania, if I may speak plainly, it seems to me that your pride sometimes overtakes your common sense.’

‘I …’ Grania was taken aback by Hans’s assessment ‘What do you mean?’

‘Why is it wrong to accept a gift from someone who wishes to give it to you?’

‘It isn’t, Hans. It’s just that –’

‘What, Grania? Tell me,’ he challenged.

‘Well …’

Suddenly, Grania thought back to all those times with Matt. Staunchly refusing any help his parents wanted to give them
and
, even worse, refusing to marry him. Those decisions had been taken purely out of pride. Not because it was necessarily what she wanted. Or, in retrospect, the right thing to do. After all, perhaps if she
had
married Matt, they wouldn’t be where they were now. And there was no doubt that some help from Matt’s parents who, as Hans had just pointed out, simply wanted to give them a gift, would have made their life easier.

‘Maybe you’re right,’ Grania agreed eventually, feeling disturbed by her sudden inner revelation. ‘But I can’t help it, I’ve always been that way.’

Hans watched her silently before he said, ‘Perhaps it is simply your personality or, more likely, it is borne out of a sense of insecurity. You should ask yourself why do you not wish people to help you? Perhaps you believe inside that you are not worth their help.’

‘I … don’t know,’ answered Grania truthfully. ‘But you’re right, I think that in some ways my pride has blighted my life. Anyway, enough of me. But thank you, Hans, for being honest. It’s helped me, it really has.’

The following morning, as her family made their normal Sunday pilgrimage to mass, Grania stayed behind to mind Aurora.

‘Would you like to walk up to Dunworley church later? Uncle Hans has brought a pot back with him from Switzerland, which contains –’ Grania chose her words carefully – ‘I suppose what you might call Daddy’s magic dust.’

‘You mean his ashes?’ said Aurora, taking another bite of toast.

‘Yes. I was wondering whether you wanted to help me spread them.’

‘Of course I do,’ agreed Aurora. ‘Can I choose where?’

‘Yes, although Daddy did suggest he might be sprinkled on Mummy’s grave.’

‘No,’ Aurora swallowed her toast and shook her head. ‘That’s not where I want to put him.’

‘Right.’

‘That’s just Mummy’s old bones. It’s not where she
lives
.’

‘All right, Aurora, you just show me.’

As dusk was falling, Aurora announced she wished to go with Grania and spread her father’s ashes.

With Alexander’s urn held in a carrier bag, Grania followed Aurora outside and up the lane. Aurora led her up the cliff path towards Dunworley House. When they reached the grassy rock, Aurora stopped.

‘Now, Grania, you sit here in your usual place.’ Aurora opened the carrier bag and took out the urn. She took the lid off and looked inside in fascination.

‘It’s like gritty sand, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

Aurora turned and walked over to the cliff, stopping only inches away from the edge. Suddenly, she paused and turned back, seeming nervous. ‘Grania, will you come and help me?’

‘Of course.’ Grania walked a few paces forward and stood next to Aurora.

‘This is where Mummy fell. I see her here, sometimes. Mummy!’ she shouted. ‘I’m giving Daddy to you.’ Aurora looked down into the pot, her eyes glazed with tears. ‘Bye bye, Daddy, go to Mummy, she needs you.’ Aurora threw the ashes over the cliff, where they were caught by the wind and carried away across the sea. ‘I love you, Daddy. And you, Mummy. See you both in heaven soon.’

Aurora’s stoicism and bravery brought a lump to Grania’s throat. Eventually, she walked back to her rock to let Aurora be. She watched as Aurora knelt, perhaps in silent prayer – she didn’t know – as night began to fall.

Finally, Aurora stood up slowly. She turned to Grania. ‘I’m ready to go home now. They want to go.’

‘Do they?’

‘Yes.’

Aurora reached out her hand and Grania took it in her own. They turned in the direction of the farmhouse and began to walk slowly down the hill.

Suddenly, Aurora turned back. ‘Look, look!’ She pointed. ‘Can you see them?’

‘See who?’

‘
Look
 …’

Grania forced herself to turn her head and looked out over the bay in the direction Aurora was pointing.

‘They’re flying,’ Aurora said in awe. ‘She came to collect him and they’re going off to heaven together.’

Grania studied the skyline and could see nothing but clouds caught by the breeze, scudding across the sky. Grania gave Aurora a gentle tug and walked her down the hill to begin a new future.

Matt blinked at the shadowy, moving image. There, on the screen, was living proof of the night he couldn’t remember.

‘You want to see it in 3D?’ asked the scanner operator.

‘Sure,’ agreed Charley as the technician moved across her belly.

‘There’s the head, and the arm … if it stops wriggling, we should be able to get a good picture …’

‘Wow,’ Matt breathed as he watched the screen. Full colour, back, front, all singing and dancing. This was what you paid for at a top private clinic. The scan he’d seen of Grania’s baby at the local hospital down the road from their loft was like a 1940s black-and-white movie compared to a James Cameron epic.

Afterwards, clutching the pictures in her hand, Charley reached with her other for Matt’s. ‘You want to take in some lunch? I seem to be hungry suddenly,’ she chuckled.

‘Sure, whatever you say.’

Over lunch, Charley talked enough for both of them. Matt understood. Whatever his feelings, this was Charley’s first child and she had every right to be excited. Tomorrow, Charley’s parents were having a barbecue at their house to announce their daughter’s state of togetherness with him.
And
their forthcoming baby. He sighed. Even the dates the scanning technician had given them were
right on target. And he had to finally accept that this was
his
life. The one he’d created, whether he wanted it or not. It was how it was.

As Charley talked about tomorrow, how excited she was about telling all their friends, their
mutual
friends, Matt surrendered. He looked across the table at Charley. There was no doubt she was the most beautiful woman in the restaurant. A ‘catch’. Surely, as his mother had suggested, he would grow to love her, grow to love their life together? And grow to love the baby they’d created.

Grania was gone …

Matt signalled for the waiter and whispered in his ear.

Five minutes later, a bottle of champagne appeared on the table. Charley raised an eyebrow. ‘What’s this about?’

‘I thought we should celebrate.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You mean, the baby?’

‘That, and …’ The waiter poured champagne into two glasses. Matt lifted his. ‘Us.’

‘You think so?’

‘I do. And before tomorrow, I want to ask you, whether you, Charley, will do me the honour of marrying me?’

‘Really,
really
?’ Charley repeated. ‘Is this a proposal?’

‘It is.’

‘You sure?’ She furrowed her eyebrows.

‘I’m sure, honey. So what do you say? Shall we give this baby my surname? Make it legal? Announce our forthcoming marriage at the barbecue tomorrow?’

‘Oh, Matty … you don’t know how I’ve …’ Charley shook her head as her eyes filled with tears. ‘Hey, ignore
me. It’s the hormones. I just wanna make sure you’re doing this for the right reasons. That it’s about “us”, not the baby. Because if it isn’t, you know it won’t work.’

‘I guess …’ Matt scratched his head, ‘we’re destined to be together.’

‘That’s what I’ve always thought, but been too afraid to say,’ she answered quietly.

‘So?’ Matt lifted his glass. ‘Will you say yes?’

‘Oh, Matty, of course I will. Yes!’

‘Then we’d better go out shopping now and choose an engagement ring that you can produce tomorrow.’

Matt arrived back at the loft with Charley three hours later. He was wrecked. He’d taken her to Cartier, Tiffany and then back to Cartier again as she’d tried on every ring in the goddamned shop. It seemed to him the only difference between what she’d originally liked and the one she’d finally chosen was the increased size of the exorbitant price. The end result had cost him almost six months’ salary – he’d charged it to a credit card – and which she seemed to be delighted with.

You will grow to love her
 …

As Matt put his head on the pillow that night, his mother’s words were the only comfort he could find.

The setting of the barbecue to celebrate their good news, the atmosphere and the people were what Matt had always known. He drank far more than he should have – they were staying the night at his folks anyway – and when he announced their engagement and forthcoming marriage, his eyes filled with tears. There wasn’t a person watching,
given his obvious emotion, who would have doubted how much Matt loved the woman he was to marry. Charley looked radiant in a new dress from Chanel, bought for the occasion. Matt’s back was sore from the slapping it had received. Later, when the guests had drifted off and it was the two sets of parents and their children, Charley’s father spoke a few words.

‘I sure can’t express the joy I feel at this moment. And I know your parents, Matt – our dear friends, Bob and Elaine – would join me in that. And we have decided, the four of us, that we want to give you kids a wedding present. There’s a house not far from here in Oakwood Lane that would be real perfect for you; big space inside and a great garden for the kid to play in … Matt, your pop and I are gonna talk to the real estate agent tomorrow. And we’re gonna buy it for you.’

‘Oh my, Matty!’ Charley turned to Matt in delight and grasped his hand. ‘Isn’t that awesome? Just think, we’ll have both sets of grandparents on the doorstep to babysit!’

Everyone laughed, except Matt, who poured himself some more champagne.

Later that night, when they’d driven the ten minutes to his parents’ house, Matt’s mother found him outside on the terrace alone.

‘You happy, sweetheart?’

‘Yes, Mom,’ Matt said, hearing a morose timbre to his voice. He checked himself. ‘Course I am, why wouldn’t I be?’

‘No reason.’ She placed a hand on Matt’s shoulder. ‘I just want my boy to be happy.’

Elaine walked on across the terrace. She turned back and looked at Matt. Everything about his body language spoke the opposite to his words. Elaine sighed. She guessed it was simply the way life was. Later, she lay sleepless in bed next to her husband and pondered the past thirty-nine years of a life that, on the outside, was as perfect as it could be. Yet, inside, her heart sang a different song, because her marriage was a sham of conformity.

And her son was right on target to suffer the same.

The summer passed gently in Dunworley Bay; days when it was warm enough for Grania to take Aurora to the beach and swim in the sea, and others of light rain that misted rather than soaked its recipients. Aurora seemed settled and content, spending time out on the farm with John and Shane, going to Cork city to shop for new clothes with Kathleen, and enjoying explorative trips with Grania to beauty spots along the coast. When she wasn’t with Aurora, Grania was locked away in her studio perfecting the six studies of her subject in different, graceful positions.

One day in August, Grania stretched and stood up from her workbench. There was no more she could do to them now without harming them. They were finished. Grania experienced a short burst of exhilaration as she wrapped each one carefully, ready to take to Cork to have them dipped in bronze. Once she had done that, she sat at her workbench feeling empty and desolate. The project had allowed her a focus with which to avoid the odd numbness she currently felt. It was as if she couldn’t quite connect with the rest of the world, as
though she was looking on from behind a veil, her usual passionate emotions muted. Just now, Grania felt like a black-and-white facsimile of her former colourful self.

Of course, the fact Aurora would soon become her daughter – Grania had already been interviewed by the Irish authorities with Aurora – was a wonderful and positive addition to her life. She tried to focus on that, rather than other, more difficult aspects of it. For, however much she loved her parents, she did not wish to remain under their roof forever. Dunworley House was in the full throes of renovation, but even when it was finished, Grania was not sure she would be comfortable living in it. Besides, Aurora was blissfully happy on the farm and wouldn’t take kindly to any suggestion of moving. And while she was still adjusting to the loss of her father it would probably be detrimental too.