The Secrets We Share

by Emma Hannigan

  ‘Always. No matter what I did or how many times I made a mess of things, which was rather a lot as you can probably tell! They were unbending with their display of unconditional love.’

  ‘What happened to your parents?’ Nathalie asked gently.

  ‘Oh,’ Clara sighed. ‘Mama passed away first. Her health began to fail just after Max was born. We all noticed her confusion. At first it was silly little things, like muddling the days of the week. But one day she called me Frau Schulz, who was the woman who ran the orphanage. That was when I knew there was something drastically wrong. She never mixed me up with anyone else. Gus diagnosed Alzheimer’s disease, saying he had no idea how long she had left. It was utterly heartbreaking watching her decline. Her frustration was palpable, yet there was so little we could do to help.’

  ‘Alzheimer’s is such a vile disease,’ Nathalie said. ‘Mackenzie’s grandma had it when we were kids. I remember it clearly. And it seems so grossly unfair that Hannah should end up with it after all she’d suffered already,’ she added.

  ‘As the months passed, she became almost childlike. She shadowed me and couldn’t bear to be alone. Flashbacks from her time in Bergen-Belsen came back to haunt her.’

  ‘It sounds as if she was suffering delayed shock,’ Nathalie said.

  ‘Yes, I agree,’ Clara said sadly. ‘One afternoon, I went out to hang clothes on the line. When I returned, Mama was crouched on the floor in the living room pretending to stir a large pot. Even though I called out to her and placed my hand on her shoulder, there was no rousing her from the scene. It was as if she’d been transported right back to that awful time. She was answering people in her imagination as if they were real, holding conversations with other prisoners.’

  ‘Wow,’ Nathalie said, aghast. ‘What was she saying?’

  ‘She was consoling someone called Georgia. Telling her that her baby was at rest now. That the Germans couldn’t torture him any longer now he was with God.’

  ‘How awful,’ Nathalie whispered.

  ‘She coaxed her imaginary friend to her side and pretended to take her in her arms. She made stroking gestures with her hand, as if she were smoothing this girl’s hair, and tears began to cascade down her cheeks. She cried and begged Georgia not to leave her.’

  ‘That’s beyond awful,’ Nathalie said sadly.

  ‘For weeks she’d get caught up in that dreadful vision where she’d sob and beg Georgia to stay, telling her she didn’t want to be alone with the soldiers.’

  ‘Wowzers,’ Nathalie managed. ‘Hannah had so many ups and downs in her life, didn’t she?’

  ‘Yes, Liebling, she did. As the Alzheimer’s took charge of her it became obvious that the only way she would find peace was when she passed away.’

  ‘Oh Oma, you must’ve felt so cheated. You’d hardly forged your wonderful relationship with her and she was being taken away from you once again.’

  ‘It was terribly cruel,’ Clara conceded. ‘I felt immeasurably angry about it all for a short time. As you rightly pointed out, Nathalie, she had suffered enough, but I soon learned that hardship isn’t doled out in rations that are evenly shared across the globe.’

  ‘What happened to her?’

  ‘I knew there was something different about her one particular morning. She called to my house at six o’clock. The air was freezing and I could see her breath as she spoke. There was a thick covering of frost on the ground outside, yet she was barefoot,’ Clara said, shuddering. ‘Luckily I was in the kitchen baking bread when she rapped on the door. I took her hand and she led me back to her house, to the bedroom where my father lay sleeping.’

  ‘Didn’t he know she was up and had gone from the house?’

  Clara shook her head. ‘She was a tiny little pixie of a thing and my father was a heavy sleeper. She gently stirred him and curled into his arms, beckoning for me to lie down with them. She was totally lucid for a few moments. As the three of us lay there entwined, she told us that we were her dreams come true and she would wait for us for ever.’

  ‘She seemed to know that her time had come,’ Nathalie said.

  ‘More than that, she appeared to be happy to pass on. She thanked Lukas for believing in their love and for showing her that miracles can happen. She told me that I was her driving force when life seemed impossible and that she could never thank us enough for loving her. As she passed away, the broadest smile spread across her beautiful face.’

  ‘Oh Oma,’ Nathalie said, hugging her close. ‘Poor you, and poor Lukas.’

  Clara laced her fingers together.

  ‘I’ve never been able to think of things in an angry way for long, Nathalie,’ she mused. ‘I don’t feel there’s any point. We can’t change the past. It’s over and done with. But we can certainly decide how we’d like to be in the future. I don’t look back. I prefer to put my energy into moving forward.’

  ‘That’s easier said than done,’ Nathalie scoffed. ‘Especially when the people you love are being taken from you one by one.’

  Clara tucked Nathalie’s hair behind her ear and smiled.

  ‘Isn’t it better to know that there are people either down here or up there,’ she looked skyward, ‘who you love and cherish? Imagine living your whole life and never feeling love? How sad would that be? The way I look at it is this … We need to cherish the good times. They’re what get us through the hard times. There’s nothing more beautiful than sunshine after rain.’

  ‘How did you get to be so wise?’ Nathalie asked, shaking her head in wonder. ‘I hope some day I can be as accepting and caring as you are.’

  Clara stood up and hugged her, rocking her back and forth.

  ‘Good things come to those who wait, Liebling.’

  Chapter 28

  The following day was quiet. Ava returned to work and sorted out all the things she’d been neglecting at the shop.

  Max and Amber walked around Dublin city, shopping and enjoying each other’s company.

  Clara and Nathalie had a leisurely breakfast before parting company for a while. Clara went to see Gus.

  ‘I think you’ve been helping from up there,’ she said as she arranged some flowers from the garden at his grave. ‘Things are getting better by the day. I honestly feared that Nathalie was in terrible danger. Thank you for minding her, Liebling. Because I know you did.’

  She sat and waited for the usual feeling of warmth this spot gave her. The wind wasn’t exactly high, but she felt cold.

  ‘I miss you, Gus. More than that, I feel so incredibly ashamed all over again. Having to tell people what I did to you brought it all back. It never gets any better. It never seems right.’

  Nathalie rushed to the beach and jumped up and down waving her arms. As if by magic, Conor appeared.

  ‘You’re like one of those little wooden figures in a cuckoo clock,’ she teased as he approached.

  ‘You’re like a raving lunatic jumping about by yourself,’ he said, as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  They walked for a bit before Nathalie stopped and asked him what he did with his time.

  ‘How come you’re always looking out your window? What do you do to occupy yourself?’

  ‘Want to see?’ he asked with a grin.

  They walked to Conor’s house. As soon as he opened the door, Herbie came bounding up, wagging his tail and licking Nathalie’s hand.

  ‘Mum!’ he called out. ‘This,’ he looked very pleased, ‘is my Nathalie.’

  ‘Hello there,’ said a beautiful-looking woman with hair the same shade as her son’s, the only difference being that hers cascaded down her back in glossy waves. Dressed in tight jeans, a glittery tank top and flip-flops, she looked more like Conor’s sister than his mom.

  ‘I’m Brea,’ she said, holding her hand out. ‘Conor has talked about you so much. I believe you’re Max’s daughter.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Nathalie said. ‘He and my mom are actually here visiting right now.’

  ‘Well I haven’t set
eyes on your father for over twenty years,’ Brea said. ‘Please tell him I was asking for him. If he and your mother would like a cup of tea, send them down. They’d be more than welcome.’

  ‘Come on,’ Conor said, taking Nathalie’s hand. He led her to a beautiful room with a stunning bay window. Instead of being a living room as Nathalie had assumed, it was almost bare apart from an artist’s easel and a messy paint-splashed table covered in art supplies.

  ‘Welcome to my studio!’ Conor announced.

  ‘But I thought you said you played the Irish drum thingy,’ she said.

  ‘I do, and it’s called a boudhrán,’ he smiled. ‘But that’s only a bit of fun. This is what I really do.’

  Nathalie walked around the room and gazed at some of the pictures. All oils, they were incredible. Most depicted the sea, and the movement of the water made it look almost real.

  ‘Wow, these are amazing,’ she breathed. ‘How did you learn this stuff?’

  ‘I went to art college, but I’ve always loved art. I wasn’t book-clever at school, so I used my paintings to express myself.’

  Nathalie nodded, knowing that she was literally falling in love with everything about Conor. What he showed her next left her speechless.

  He turned the easel so she could view it. There on the canvas was an image of her face. He’d caught the exact way her hair curled and framed her face, but it was encompassed in a rolling wave.

  ‘That’s astonishingly beautiful,’ she said. ‘Totally awesome.’

  ‘Just like you,’ he said.

  Nathalie placed her hands on his face and kissed him deeply. Nobody had ever moved her the way he had. All of a sudden she had a momentary flash of what it felt like to want to spend the rest of her life with one person. A person who wasn’t her family.

  Conor took her hands and sat her on a chair.

  ‘Will you pose for a few minutes? I need to shade your eyes a bit better. I did it all from memory, but it’s so much easier to have you here.’

  At first she felt slightly embarrassed as Conor popped his head to the side and back again repeatedly. But she soon relaxed and began to feel very curious about the results.

  What seemed like moments later, he called her over.

  Masterfully he’d changed her expression to a half-smile and added a twinkle to her eyes that only her closest confidantes would recognise.

  ‘I love it,’ she said.

  ‘Good,’ he smiled back.

  She looked at her watch and reluctantly said she’d better get home to help Oma with the family reunion preparations.

  ‘Come by whenever you feel like it,’ he said, planting a kiss on her lips. ‘You’re delicious, my Nathalie.’

  She grinned all the way home. Conor had no qualms about calling her his Nathalie. There was no tiptoeing around his feelings. She thought he was brilliant.

  The afternoon flew. Once they began setting the table and putting the finishing touches to the food, Nathalie and Clara were totally engrossed in their duties.

  Music flooded the room, with Clara often pausing to listen to a particular phrase or movement. For the second time that day, Nathalie witnessed a person being totally swept away by art.

  Ava arrived with Max and Amber in tow. Clara promptly handed each of them a glass of mulled wine.

  ‘I know it’s summer, but this was what my mother always served her guests. It’s sweet, potent and delicious.’

  They clinked glasses and almost instantaneously conversation flowed. By the time they sat down to eat less than an hour later, they were all ravenous.

  ‘The way we do it in this house is that everyone helps themselves,’ Clara announced.

  ‘And if you’re too polite, you’ll get nothing,’ Ava added as she dug a large spoon into the dish of tiny rustic potatoes that Clara had tossed in oil and rosemary and shallow-fried.

  ‘I didn’t think I was even hungry,’ Amber said. ‘But this looks so delicious, I’m suddenly famished.’

  Before long the conversation turned to past events. Clara told Amber about her move to Ireland. They all listened in silence as she recalled the pain of leaving one family and forging a brand-new relationship with her biological parents.

  ‘Life can be riddled with pain and angst,’ she said. ‘But I’d like to propose that from here on in, we try and come together again as a family.’

  There was a brief silence until Nathalie spoke.

  ‘I know I’m the youngest person here, but Mackenzie’s death has taught me a pretty harsh lesson. Life is precious. It’s short. We don’t know the day or hour that it’s all going to end. So why are we wasting time? Often we cannot choose who stays and who goes. So while we have a chance, let’s do what Oma suggests and give this a go.’

  ‘Good job,’ Amber said. ‘I’m very proud of you, darling. You’ve been braver than I could ever be. When Mackenzie died, I honestly thought you were going to die with her.’

  ‘A part of me did,’ Nathalie admitted.

  ‘Sometimes it’s not as easy as you’re making out,’ Max said. ‘I hear what you’re saying. I get the point. Life is precious. But it doesn’t make the mistakes go away.’

  ‘None of us is free of fault,’ Ava conceded.

  ‘Mistakes are easy to make,’ Clara said. ‘What isn’t so easy is learning to forgive. In turn,’ she looked at Max, ‘you must decide to accept the forgiveness and move on. Otherwise life becomes nothing but a downward slope of bitterness and sorry regret.’

  ‘Can you answer one question?’ Max asked. ‘How come Gus forgave you, just like that? Wasn’t he hurt and betrayed by what you did?’

  Clara sighed deeply.

  ‘He was devastated,’ she said. ‘But there were a few factors involved in us managing to rebuild our marriage.’

  ‘Which were?’ Max said. ‘I’m sorry, but I need you to help me out here. I don’t get it …’

  ‘Firstly, Gus had had the vasectomy without telling me. He took matters into his own hands because he thought I would be in medical danger should I become pregnant again.’

  ‘OK, that’s not totally honest, but he was still thinking of you,’ Max said.

  ‘I know that, lovey. Two wrongs don’t make a right, but we came to the conclusion that we had both been at fault. He didn’t decide to forgive me overnight either.’

  ‘What happened?’ Ava asked.

  ‘Once Gus discovered I was carrying Jacob’s baby… Well, I confessed as I couldn’t bear to live a lie, he couldn’t look at me, so we slept in separate rooms for the remainder of my pregnancy. He certainly didn’t want to be intimate with me.’

  ‘You moved into my room,’ Ava said. ‘I remember now.’

  Clara nodded. ‘I honestly didn’t know what was going to happen once Jacob’s baby came along. Oh, poor Gus was like a shell of his former self when news of my pregnancy became known. Staff at the hospital and patients in his surgery all congratulated him and wished him well.’ Clara smiled sadly and a telltale tear trickled down her cheek.

  ‘Where did he have the vasectomy done?’ Amber asked.

  ‘In England,’ Clara said. ‘He covered his tracks so nobody knew his business.’

  ‘So he had to grin and bear it when people were wishing you well with your pregnancy,’ Ava said.

  ‘There were lots of innocent remarks from men especially, crossing their fingers and saying they hoped it was a son and heir this time,’ Clara recalled. ‘Gus would nod and thank people, all the while refusing to discuss the subject with me. We drifted further apart as my belly grew bigger. The day I went into labour, he was at the hospital with a patient. I’d lost a lot of blood while having Ava, so the staff were eager to ensure I wasn’t in danger with Max.’

  ‘Did history repeat itself?’ Amber asked.

  ‘As it turned out, yes, I began to haemorrhage once again. An emergency Caesarean was performed and I was sent to the intensive care unit. I needed blood transfusions and antibiotics. I was so ill that I was completely unaware of
all the commotion going on around me.’ She stopped and took a mouthful of wine. Nathalie put her hand on her arm, encouraging her to continue.

  ‘Gus was notified and told he had a son. As my health stabilized, Max’s took a nosedive. He’d contracted an infection and became gravely ill. I wasn’t compos mentis, so Gus had to take action. He signed the consent form for Max’s treatment and stayed by his cot for a full twenty-four hours.’

  ‘Wow,’ Nathalie said, looking over at her father.

  ‘He told me afterwards that he’d never been so afraid. He’d built up such anger and resentment during my pregnancy, but when he saw the tiny child struggling to survive, he said he had a moment of realisation. None of this was the baby’s fault. More than that, he knew that he had the opportunity to be his father.’

  ‘Had you told Dad that you didn’t love Jacob the way you loved him?’ Ava asked.

  ‘Of course, Liebling. I told him ten times a day in the hope that he might believe me.’

  ‘And eventually he did?’ Amber asked.

  ‘Well, by the time I was well enough to see the baby, Max was out of danger and slowly improving. Gus arrived at the ward with a wheelchair and took me to the baby care unit. Oh, I was devastated when I saw his tiny body covered in tubes and wires. The little blue card at the end of his cot showed all his details, from his birth weight to the medicine he was on. It also said his name was Max.’

  ‘So Gus named me?’ Max said in awe. Clara nodded.

  ‘I cried happy tears when I saw what he had done. He told me he wanted to call you Max because it was Latin for “the greatest”. He admired your sense of determination and your will to live. But most of all he felt you deserved a strong and stoic name.’

  ‘And Gus’s name was on my birth certificate,’ Max said proudly, his eyes moist with tears.

  ‘Yes,’ Clara nodded. ‘We made the decision there and then that nobody would ever know the truth.’

  ‘Isn’t that illegal?’ Ava asked.

  ‘Only if you get found out,’ Clara said with a wry smile.

  ‘Ha!’ Nathalie giggled in spite of the gravity of the story. ‘That reminds me of Dad’s advice when I used to get into hot water at school. He’d say that the worst offence was not the getting into trouble part, it was the getting caught!’