The Girl on the Cliff (8 page)

‘No, he has to go away.’

‘And what do you think of Aurora’s father?’

‘He seems like a nice man.’ Grania shrugged. ‘I don’t know him terribly well.’

‘I think he was … 
is
 … a good man. But anyone who has the misfortune to get themselves mixed up with that family seems to be tainted by it, and that goes for you too, Grania.’ Kathleen wagged a finger at her daughter fiercely.

‘Mam, the last thing I want to do is upset you, but until I know –’

‘Yes, you’re right,’ Kathleen interjected. She smiled weakly and patted her daughter’s hand sadly. ‘But there was me thinking you were the one that got away.’

‘It’s only for a month, Mam,’ Grania underlined. ‘And at least I’ll be out from under your feet.’

‘And is that really what you think I’d be wanting, Grania? After ten years of never seeing you? ’Tis a pleasure to have you here and it always will be.’

‘Thanks, Mam. I was also wondering whether it might be possible to bring Aurora here to meet you?’ ventured Grania. ‘I’m sure, once you did, you’d understand. She’s such a lovely little girl …’

‘Don’t you be pushing it now, Grania. I’m sure she is as you say, but feelings run high in this house. Best leave it for now.’

‘I understand.’ She yawned. ‘Excuse me, I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m for my bed.’ Grania stood up and rinsed her mug in the sink. She walked over and kissed her mother on the top of her head. ‘Night, Mam. Sleep tight.’

‘And you, pet.’

When Kathleen had heard Grania’s door close at the top of the stairs, she stood up and wandered into the sitting room to speak to her husband.

‘I’m worrying about our girl,’ she sighed as she sat down in the armchair opposite John. ‘She’s only gone and agreed to go up to Dunworley House for a month to take care of the Lisle child.’

‘Has she now?’ John turned his attention from the television to study his wife’s anxious expression.

‘So, what can we do?’ Kathleen asked him.

‘I’d say nothing. She’s a big girl now.’

‘John, can you not see what’s happening? You know how Grania has always shut down whenever there’s been emotional bother in her life. She’s doing it now. You can see the pain she’s feeling inside, but she won’t open up.’

‘’Tis the way she is, Kathleen. Like her father so,’ John agreed equably. ‘We all cope with our problems differently and none are right or wrong.’

‘Do you not think it odd she hasn’t shed a tear over losing that babe of hers?’

‘As I said, we each have our own ways, darlin’. Let her be.’

‘John,’ Kathleen could feel herself losing patience with her husband’s usual calm approach to what she could see was impending disaster, ‘our daughter is pouring all her maternal feelings into that child. She’s using Aurora as a substitute for what she’s lost. And on top of that, perhaps seeing the girl’s father as a replacement for Matt. And while she’s pouring all her energies into them, she doesn’t have to think about her own life, or try to sort it out.’

‘Ahh, Kathleen,’ John replied, finally responding to his wife’s distress, ‘I can understand how this situation is upsetting you, and you wanting to protect our girl, but I don’t see there’s anything we can do. Do you?’

‘No,’ Kathleen said after a long pause, knowing she was searching for solutions John could not give her, but irritated with him for not doing so nevertheless. She stood up. ‘I’m off to bed.’

‘I’ll be up shortly,’ John replied to his wife’s back. He sighed. When Kathleen was in a state about one of her beloved children, he knew there was little he could do or say to comfort her.

Three days later, Grania was given a lift up the hill to Dunworley House by her brother.

‘Thanks, Shane,’ Grania said as she climbed out of the car.

‘No bother, Grania,’ he smiled. ‘You be letting me
know if there’s any lifts you need with that young’un. Take care.’

Grania took her holdall from the boot and entered the kitchen through the back door. A small thunderbolt catapulted itself into her arms.

‘You’re here! I’ve been waiting for you all morning.’

‘Of course I’m here,’ smiled Grania. ‘You didn’t think I wouldn’t come, did you?’

Aurora pursed her pink lips. ‘Sometimes adults say they will do something, and then they don’t.’

‘Well, I’m not one of those adults,’ Grania comforted her.

‘Good. Now, Daddy said if you arrived, I’m to show you to your room. I’ve put you next to me, so you don’t get lonely. Come on.’ Aurora took Grania’s hand and pulled her out of the kitchen, through the hall and up the stairs. She led her along the landing to a pretty bedroom containing a big wrought-iron bed with a white lace counterpane. The walls were pink, with flower-sprigged curtains at the window, framing the stunning view out over the headland.

‘Pink’s my favourite colour,’ said Aurora as she bounced on the big bed. ‘Is it yours?’

‘I love pink and blue and purple and –’ Grania joined Aurora on the bed and tickled her – ‘yellow and red and orange and green …’

Aurora giggled with pleasure, and that was how Alexander found them when he knocked on the door and walked in.

‘My goodness! What a racket.’

‘Sorry, Daddy.’ Aurora sat up immediately. ‘I hope we didn’t disturb you.’

‘No, darling, you didn’t.’ He smiled, which, Grania
noticed, seemed to be more of a grimace. He looked deathly pale.

‘If Aurora will allow you out of her clutches for half an hour, Grania, we can go through a few things before I leave,’ Alexander suggested.

‘Yes.’ Grania clambered off the bed and turned to Aurora. ‘Why don’t you go and find those school books your father was telling me about, and I’ll see you down in the kitchen shortly.’

Aurora nodded obediently and went off into her bedroom next door as Grania and Alexander walked downstairs. He led her into a small library, which was equipped with a desk and computer.

‘Sit down, Grania, please.’

Grania did so as Alexander handed her a sheet of typed paper. ‘Listed here are all my contact numbers. I’ve added the name of my solicitor, Hans, too, and if you can’t get hold of me, he’s the best person to speak to. He knows you may be calling.’

‘May I ask where you’re going?’

‘To the States, and then possibly Switzerland …’ Alexander shrugged. ‘I apologise for being unable to be more specific. I’ve also added the names of a plumber and electrician, in case there are any problems with the house. The heating and the water are set on a timer by the boiler in the utility room, which is just off the kitchen. A gardener comes in once a week and also provides logs for the fireplaces.’

‘Right,’ said Grania, ‘and I think I may have found a temporary cleaner. She’s the daughter of the lady who runs the village shop and seems like a nice girl.’

‘Good. Thank you, Grania. You’ll note that there is a cheque made out to you, which includes what I think is a fair sum for your time this month, plus payment for the sculpture. I’ve also added enough to cover general expenses such as food, with a sum for emergencies, out of which you can pay the cleaner. You’ll find it all detailed on the sheet. If, by any chance you need more, as I said, please contact my solicitor.’

Grania glanced at the cheque. It was written out for twelve thousand euros.

‘But this is far too much – I …’

‘I know your sculptures sell for a minimum of ten thousand dollars each, Grania.’

‘Yes, but normally the client wants to see the finished product before he pays in full.’

‘I don’t need to do that,’ said Alexander. ‘Now, enough of finances. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be unable to leave.’

‘Really, it’s a pleasure,’ Grania reiterated. ‘I’m terribly fond of Aurora.’

‘And you must know that it’s mutual. I haven’t seen my daughter respond to anyone the way she has to you since her mother died. I find it –’ Alexander sighed – ‘very moving.’

The look of innate sadness appeared again in his eyes, and it was all Grania could do to restrain herself from reaching out her hand to comfort him. ‘I promise I’ll take care of her for you,’ she said softly.

‘I know you will. And I should warn you … it’s difficult to know how to put this … but Aurora sometimes talks about her mother still being here, in this house.’ Alexander shook his head. ‘We both know this is simply
a fantasy of a bereaved child. I assure you there are no ghosts here, but if Aurora chooses to be comforted by the thought, then I really can’t see the harm.’

‘No,’ Grania agreed slowly.

‘Well then, I think that’s everything. I’ll be leaving in approximately an hour. A taxi is taking me to Cork airport. You may, of course, have full use of my car, the keys to which hang on the key rack in the pantry.’

‘Thank you.’ Grania stood up. ‘I’ll go and see where Aurora has got to, and try to persuade her to put her nose in some books.’

‘I’ll call as often as I can,’ Alexander nodded, ‘but please don’t worry if you don’t hear for a while. And Aurora mustn’t either. Oh, by the way –’ he indicated the top left-hand drawer of his desk – ‘if by any chance something should happen to me, all the papers you might need are locked in here. My solicitor will direct you to the whereabouts of the key.’

Grania shivered suddenly at the look on Alexander’s face. ‘Let’s hope I don’t need to make that call. I’ll see you in a month. Have a safe trip.’

‘Thank you.’

She turned to walk towards the door.

‘Grania?’

‘Yes?’

Alexander gave her a sudden, wide smile. ‘I’ll owe you dinner when I get back. You’ve saved my life, literally.’

Grania nodded and silently scurried out of the room.

Grania and Aurora sat on the window seat in the child’s bedroom and watched as Alexander’s taxi snaked its
way down the hill. Grania put an instinctive arm around Aurora’s shoulders, but the little girl seemed calm. She looked up at Grania. ‘It’s all right, I’m not sad. I’m used to him leaving me when he has to go away to work. And this time it’s better, because I have you here.’ Aurora knelt up and threw her arms around Grania’s neck. ‘Grania?’

‘Yes?’

‘Do you think we could go into the sitting room, light a fire and toast marshmallows on it, like they do in the Enid Blyton book I’ve just read?’

‘I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. As long as you spend an hour doing sums at the kitchen table while I make supper. Deal?’ Grania held out her hand.

Aurora grasped it and smiled. ‘Deal.’

Later that evening, once Grania had settled Aurora into bed for the night, and had been cajoled into reading to her for far longer than they’d originally agreed, Grania walked back downstairs and went into the sitting room. As she knelt in front of the fire to stoke it she listened to the silence in the house, and wondered what on earth she had done by agreeing to this. Grania realised it was simply a knee-jerk reaction to the shock of hearing Charley’s voice in
her
loft the other night. Was imprisoning herself in a house for a month, alone with a little girl she hardly knew, a sensible thing to do?

She wanted Matt to call her parents’ house, wanted her mother to tell him she was no longer there, needed him to
know
that what he had done to her would not destroy her, that she was already moving on …

With effort, she replaced Matt’s face in her mind’s eye with that of Alexander’s. Had she imagined the look on his face when he’d offered her dinner on his return? And was she so currently vulnerable that she’d cling on for dear life to a few words that could have been spoken out of politeness without any other resonance? Grania sighed, realising that whatever Alexander’s motive, she had at least a month to ponder it without resolution.

Turning off the downstairs lights, she made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. She took a long soak in the deep, claw-footed bath adjacent to her room, before donning her pyjamas and climbing into the big, comfortable bed. She lay back on the pillows, luxuriating in its space after weeks in her narrow one.

Tomorrow, she thought, as she switched off the light, she would start to sketch Aurora, get a feel for the shape of her face, decide which expression appeared most often in her eyes …

Grania settled herself down for sleep and closed her own eyes.

Kathleen sat at the kitchen table, nursing a mug of tea. She could hear from next door that the ten o’clock news had just finished. Once he had listened to the weather forecast, John would switch off the television along with the lights, and make his way through to the kitchen to fill a glass of water to take up to bed.

Kathleen stood up and went towards the back door. She opened it, and peered out to her left. There were no lights on at the house on top of the cliffs. Grania must have already gone to bed. Kathleen closed the door
behind her and shivered slightly as she locked and bolted it, wondering at the sense of unease she had about her daughter’s whereabouts tonight. As she walked back into the kitchen, John was standing by the sink, running the tap for his glass of water.

‘I’m for my bed, pet. You too?’ He glanced down at his wife and gave her a gentle smile.

Kathleen gave a big sigh, and rubbed her face with the palms of her hands. ‘Oh, John, I hardly know where to put myself.’

John placed his water glass down on the draining board, came towards his wife and took her into his arms. ‘What is it? It’s not like you to be in a state. You’d better be telling me what the problem is.’

‘It’s Grania … up there in
that
house, all alone. I realise you’ll be saying to me I’m being silly now, but –’ she raised her eyes to her husband – ‘you know my feelings about that family and the bad it has brought us.’

‘Yes, I know.’ John gently tucked a greying tendril of his wife’s hair behind her ear. ‘But it was all long in the past. Grania and the child are a new generation.’

‘Should I tell her?’ Kathleen entreated him with her eyes to provide her with the answer.

John sighed. ‘I’d not be knowing for sure whether ’twas a good idea or bad. But not saying anything to her is obviously unsettling you. If it would make you feel better, then you should speak to her. Not that it will make any difference to the outcome. You know as well as I do that the next generation can’t be blamed for the sins of their fathers.’