Echoes of Grace

by Caragh Bell

  Aurora ignored her and faced her brothers head on. ‘Don’t fret. I don’t want a penny from you. You two can have the lot.’

  George remained silent but she could see his eyes gleam.

  ‘All I want is my mother’s portrait.’ She pointed to the painting of Grace on the wall.

  Sebastian laughed. ‘We’ll see about that, my dear. We need to get it valued. If it’s worth money, than you can buy it at auction.’

  ‘No! I want that picture. That’s my mother.’

  ‘And of course, there are all those first editions he gave you over the years,’ he continued. ‘We’ll have them back too.’

  ‘Never,’ she said softly. ‘You’ll never get your hands on them.’

  George interjected. ‘Let’s discuss this later,’ he said smoothly. ‘Our guests are not interested in this petty squabble.’ He smiled at the horrified occupants of the room. ‘Make sure your glasses are full. It has been an emotional day.’

  Sebastian grinned at Aurora. ‘I always knew you were an imposter. This has made my day. We can finally cut ties with your gypsy tramp of a mother and regain some respectability.’

  Aurora raised her arm and slapped him hard across the cheek. The sound resonated through the room. Then she raised her other arm to slap the other side, but he was too quick for her. His strong arm grabbed her wrist. ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ he said menacingly, twisting her arm.

  ‘Ow! You’re hurting me!’ she said, squirming.

  ‘You’re lucky I don’t break your neck.’

  ‘Seb!’ George pulled him away. ‘Let her go.’ He stared contemptuously at Aurora. ‘I’d like you to leave, Aurora. Get out of our house.’

  ‘Gladly,’ she answered bitterly, ‘but I want that painting.’

  Sebastian snorted. ‘Not a chance.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll have it,’ she said, her eyes glittering. ‘I’m pretty sure Henry’s will is quite favourable on my part. He must have taken measures to ensure that I got my fair share. If you don’t give me that picture of my mother, I’ll take you to court and fight you to the end.’

  ‘You wouldn’t dare,’ scoffed Sebastian.

  ‘The portrait.’ She stood her ground.

  ‘Fine,’ said George, ignoring protests from his younger brother. ‘We’ll have it sent up to London. Will that be all?’

  ‘No, that’s not all.’ She raised herself up to her full height. ‘I think you’re the most despicable human beings I’ve ever encountered. I hope we never meet again.’

  Turning on her heel, she stalked off.

  Freddie was waiting for her at the door. ‘You’re coming with us, Sinclair,’ he said, taking her arm. ‘Maggie is waiting.’

  ‘Aurora!’ called a tear-stained Gloria. ‘My darling, we need to talk.’

  ‘Not now,’ said Freddie. ‘She needs to rest, Mrs. Sinclair. I’ll get her to ring you in the morning.’

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Maggie sipped her tea. ‘So, Mr. ’Enry told you that, did ’ee?’

  Aurora nodded miserably. ‘Just before he died. He didn’t mention a name. He never told me who my father was.’

  Freddie held her hand in his. His palms felt rough to touch. ‘It won’t be too ’ard to find out, Sinclair. Not in this day and age.’

  ‘I think I have an inkling.’ She blew her nose. ‘Did Mummy ever mention a director? An Irishman?’

  Maggie got to her feet. ‘I think it’s time you saw this,’ she mumbled, disappearing into the back room.

  Freddie glanced at Aurora. She shrugged.

  Maggie reappeared with a notebook. She blew some dust off its cover and placed it on the table. ‘This was your mother’s,’ she said quietly. ‘Mr. ’Enry told me to destroy it after she died, but I kept it. I thought you might like it someday.’

  Aurora traced its edge with her finger.

  ‘It’s a diary of sorts,’ said Maggie. ‘She wrote about different things when it took her fancy.’

  ‘A diary?’ Aurora sat up straight. ‘From when?’

  ‘From just before she died.’ The old lady gave her a compassionate look. ‘It might be difficult for you to read but I think it’s important.’

  ‘These are my mother’s words and thoughts?’ said Aurora in disbelief. ‘She wrote about her life here?’

  ‘This was long before computers and social media, little ’un,’ answered Maggie. ‘It kept ’er occupied, I expect.’

  Aurora got to her feet. ‘I think I’ll look at this in my room, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘You do that.’ Maggie’s wise old face betrayed nothing. ‘I’m out ’ere if you need me.’

  Aurora closed the door of the little bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. Opening the book, she read:

  Friday 16th October 1992

  So lonely down here. The weather is incessantly bad and it prevents me from going outside. I miss my walks by the shoreline. Henry says the winters here are grim. I’m not surprised.

  The baby keeps moving around. It feels so strange! Sometimes a hand or a leg can jut out and take me by surprise. The women in the village are convinced it’s a girl. They say when you’re very sick in the beginning and the bump is high, that it’s definite. That would be lovely – a little princess for me to love.

  Oh, come out, little one! I yearn to meet you and hold you and kiss your soft skin. It feels like I’ve been waiting for years to meet you. Not too long now. Maybe then the heartbreak will ease. Maybe then I’ll forget.

  Aurora flicked forward a few pages. She scanned the contents which consisted of updates on the progress of the pregnancy, notes on a book she was reading and stories about the villagers. Then she stopped.

  Tuesday 15th December 1992

  I can’t believe it! It’s as if my dreams have been realised. S appeared as promised. We walked on the beach and he’s serious about our plan. He looks just the same. I was so shocked I could barely talk.

  He’ll write with all the details. I know it seems so disloyal to Henry – good, kind Henry – but I can’t live without S. My life made sense again today, for the first time in months. He explained why. He made me understand. My heart feels light. Everything is falling into place.

  Aurora flicked on.

  Thursday 24th December 1992

  Henry is thinking of staying at home on New Year’s Eve. He feels it’s too close to the baby to go away. May God forgive me but I convinced him otherwise. He cannot be here. When S comes, it would be easier if he wasn’t here. My heart breaks at the thought of hurting him. I wish there was another way.

  Then an envelope fell out. It was addressed to Grace. With a beating heart, Aurora opened it, pulling out a neatly folded piece of paper. It read:

  My love,

  It’s all arranged. I will be there on the 31st and we’ll leave right away. Then we’ll be settled in London by the time the baby arrives.

  Don’t fret. I know this feels wrong, but it’s so right.

  We’re meant to be together, Grace. If your predictions are correct and it is a girl, I think we should name her Aurora. She will be a symbol of our new beginning – our new life. The goddess of the dawn.

  Keep walking ‘in beauty like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies’ . . .

  Love forever,

  S

  Peering inside the envelope, Aurora noticed a splash of colour. Tipping it upside down, a dried flower fell out and floated onto the bed: a fuchsia.

  She closed the notebook, unable to read any more. It was like someone had assaulted her brain. It throbbed with information overload and she struggled to make sense of it all. Her mother had planned to leave Henry, just before her birth. She had planned to take off and start a new life. One side of her was angry – how could Grace have broken Henry’s heart like that? What kind of person would do something that cruel? Then another side of her understood – love was complicated and required courage. Her mother was miserable without this S person who was clearly her real father. So why had she l
eft him in the first place?

  Maggie appeared in the doorway. ‘Are you all right, little ’un? I ’ave a pot of tea waitin’.’

  ‘What was his name?’ she asked bleakly, her head hanging. ‘What was my father’s name?’

  There was a pause. She could hear the waves crashing on the shore and the raucous call of the gulls.

  ‘Silas,’ said the old lady quietly. ‘Silas Walsh.’

  Maggie wisely left her alone for a while to gather her thoughts. The first thing she did was google his name. Links to his books and plays appeared instantly. She clicked on Google Images and the face of the man she had met at Bertie’s stared back at her. Wiping a tear from her eye, she typed in Silas Walsh and Grace Molloy. Reviews of Salomé appeared along with My Fair Lady. ‘She’s my muse,’ was a quote from one. ‘Grace is simply the greatest actress the world has ever seen.’

  Then she saw photos. He had longer hair and she looked young and happy. There was one of them outside the Abbey Theatre. He had his arm slung around her shoulders and she was beaming into the camera. There was another of them on stage where he was holding her shoulders and talking intently. She was gazing up at him, listening to every word he said. They looked as if they belonged together.

  She flung the phone on the bed, her mind reeling. Why had Silas rejected her? If he knew she was his daughter, why then did he leave her behind? Or had Grace left him? Hot tears stung her lids once more. She didn’t know how to feel.

  She went back to the kitchen. Two cups of tea later and her head still felt muddled. The old lady opposite her had known all along yet she had kept it from her. Maggie, her surrogate mother, had been privy to all of this for years. She felt confused and betrayed, resentful and hurt. It was like everything she had ever known had disappeared and now she was rootless and wandering, unsure of whom she was.

  ‘Have you met him?’

  ‘I ’ave, my lovely. A few times over the years.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘’Ee lives in southern Ireland.’

  ‘Are you in contact?’

  ‘Not any more.’

  ‘But you were.’

  Maggie nodded. ‘I sent him pictures and things over the years. He made a promise to Mr. ’Enry, you see. To leave you be. Maybe it was wrong, but I felt sorry for ’im. ’Ee pleaded with me to keep ’im informed. ’Ee so desperately wanted to know about you.’

  ‘What happened, Maggie? Why didn’t they run off together?’

  Her face grew sad. ‘There was a storm that time – a terrible storm. It lasted a few days and he couldn’t travel. The boat wouldn’t run, you see. Then Mr. ’Enry was in London and your mother got pains. The rest you know, my darlin’. I won’t bring all that back up.’

  ‘So Mummy died and I survived.’ Her tone was bitter. ‘Why then didn’t he come for me?’

  ‘You need to ask ’im yourself. It’s not my place, little ’un.’

  ‘But why didn’t he and my mother stay together in the first place, Maggie? If they loved each other so much?’

  ‘You need to go to ’im and ask ’im about all of that, little ’un.’

  ‘To Ireland?’

  Maggie nodded. ‘I ’ave ’is address.’

  ‘So you won’t tell me any more?’

  ‘I don’t rightly know much more,’ she admitted. ‘All I do know is that ’ee ’ad an arrangement with Mr. ’Enry. It was to protect you. You ’ave to give ’im a chance to explain.’

  Aurora put her head in her hands and moaned slightly. ‘I can’t believe this is happening. I just can’t.’

  ‘All will be well, my darlin’. Trust in God. It doesn’t change ’oo you are. You will always be Aurora Sinclair. Don’t forget that.’

  ‘Walk on the beach, Sinclair?’ asked Freddie the next morning. ‘I just fed the animals so I ’ave some time.’

  Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying and her hair was unkempt. Maggie had asked Freddie’s mother for a loan of some clothes and she had dropped over some black leggings, a large sweatshirt with Snoopy on the front and thick woolly socks. ‘They belonged to Susie years ago,’ she explained. ‘And ’ere are some boots.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said with a sigh.

  Anything was better than moping around the house. Gloria had called, telling her to be ready to leave by five. She had some business to attend to in the village first and would pick her up later.

  The wind was as cold as ever as they trudged through the thick waterlogged sand. The waves crashed on the shoreline and the spray wet her face.

  ‘Bet you miss this,’ he said, linking arms with her. ‘There’s no place in the world like this.’

  ‘You’re right,’ she said wistfully. ‘Remember all the days we spent down here? Telling stories and finding treasure.’

  ‘Yep,’ he answered, smiling. ‘You believed all those porkies I told you about pirates and smuggling.’

  ‘Porkies?’ She nudged him playfully. ‘I truly believed that there were ducats of gold in that cave.’

  ‘You were always dramatic.’

  They stopped by the rock pool. She sat down on a rock and stretched out her legs.

  ‘Are you happy, Freddie?’ she asked.

  He nodded. ‘I am, Sinclair. I love my farm and my family – I don’t want much more.’

  ‘Have you ever been in love?’

  He chuckled. ‘Oh, I thought I was in love with you. You broke my ’eart when you left.’

  ‘Me?’ She gave him an incredulous look. ‘Really?’

  ‘Of course. We were only kids but you were so beautiful.’

  Her face softened. ‘You were my best friend, you know. Back when I was so lonely.’

  He took her hand. ‘I’m always ’ere for you, you know that.’

  ‘You’re not still in love?’

  ‘No!’ He laughed loudly. ‘I got over you, I did. Now I’m sweet on Corey Jones’ youngest – Gwen. She’s the girl I want to marry.’

  ‘Oh, Fred, that’s wonderful.’ She hugged him tightly. ‘I’m so happy for you.’

  He blushed. ‘She loves pigs, she does, so that’s a bonus. We’ve been together on and off a few years.’ His freckled face was crunched up against the wind. ‘You must sing at our wedding, if I ever get the courage to ask.’

  ‘Of course I will.’ She snuggled up closely to him. ‘Anything you want.’

  ‘What about you, Sinclair? Any love story?’

  Her heart constricted. ‘Not really. He’s taken, I’m afraid. I’ll just have to find someone new.’

  ‘It’s not that director from that play I saw you in a few months back?’

  ‘God, no. Not him.’ She reddened slightly. ‘In fact, it’s James.’

  She expected Freddie to be shocked but instead he chuckled softly. ‘That’s no surprise at all.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s as obvious as day.’ He pulled his coat tightly around him. ‘I wouldn’t give up ’ope yet either. I see the way ’ee looks at you. Sometimes people get ’urt, Sinclair, where love is concerned. It’s not nice but it ’as to ’appen sometimes.’

  ‘Oh, it’s been a long-drawn-out disaster. He’s engaged to another girl and sees me as his baby sister.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’

  ‘Pretty sure.’ She trailed her finger in the water of the rock pool. ‘Things have been so crazy lately, I haven’t had time to think about him.’

  ‘That’s only natural, Sinclair. I don’t think you ’ave room for any more drama right now.’

  ‘You’re so right.’ She smiled. ‘My priorities have changed a tad.’

  ‘It will all work out, my lovely. Just take one day at a time.’

  Chapter Forty-eight

  James’ Golf pulled up outside Maggie’s house. He knocked on the door loudly and eventually she appeared. ‘Master James!’ she exclaimed in delight. ‘You’re back!’

  ‘Laura rang me this morning. She told me about Aurora’s revelation last night. Where is she?’ He ran his fing
ers through his hair. ‘I drove down as quickly as I could. Did those vile brothers of hers upset her, Maggie? I should never have left.’

  ‘She went to the beach with Fred,’ said the old lady. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

  ‘No, not now.’ He turned and headed down the lane. ‘Thank you though,’ he added over his shoulder, blowing a kiss.

  He ran towards the cliffs. It was still as overgrown and wild as ever, with large mounds of grass and sand.

  On the way he met Freddie who raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re back, Master James? Already?’

  James nodded breathlessly. ‘Where’s Aurora?’

  ‘She’s below still,’ he answered. ‘Down by the shore.’

  ‘Thanks.’ He headed away.

  Freddie smiled to himself. Find someone else indeed. It was as plain as the nose on his face. This engagement she spoke of was a farce – Master James was mad about her. Anyone with two eyes could see that.

  James’ shoes sank deep into the damp sand. Soon, the bottoms of his jeans were saturated. Aurora was standing on the shore. She had her back to him and her long hair was blowing in the wind. For a moment, he was transported back to when she was a child, standing in a similar position.

  ‘Borealis!’ he called.

  She didn’t hear so he quickened his pace.

  ‘Aurora!’

  She turned around this time and her face lit up. ‘James?’ she said incredulously. ‘You’re back?’

  He reached her and pulled her into his arms. ‘Laura rang me and told me what happened. Are you all right? I drove here as fast as I could.’

  She could feel his beating heart.

  ‘I’m fine. I got a bit drunk and made a fool of myself, but it feels oddly liberating. I don’t have to deal with my brothers any more.’

  ‘I’m sorry I left. I should never have left you behind.’

  She buried her face in his jacket, feeling a sense of calmness wash over her. ‘I’m all right now,’ she murmured. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’

  She idly wondered about Claire and if she knew that he had turned around and driven back down. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, but then she didn’t. She had no room for any more emotional trauma – he was here and that was all that mattered.