But she also knew that the truth had to come out before Kate got any older. In his continuing pains to make amends, James drove her to Tremayne’s farm in the hope she might find Tom. They pulled up in a muddy patch of land, straw and rain ripe with the smell of manure. James stayed in the car, but Elizabeth rang the bell with the swell of hope tight in her chest. It was short-lived; the Hales had gone missing along with a stash of smuggled whiskey and tobacco not a month after they arrived.
“Never saw Tom in my life,” the farmer’s wife said, hoisting up a skirt unsuitable for the manual labor her hands suggested she did. “But I heard he took up a driving job in London.” Elizabeth returned to Porthsennen with the address of a forklift firm and renewed resolve that she was on the right track.
It took another year of joining loose ends before she found herself in an architect’s office, the walls covered with wood paneling, the ceiling grimy and smoke-yellow. It was almost a dead end, Tom long gone, but they gave her his home address and wished her luck. From there she rode the sweaty Tube from Richmond to Hampstead, exiting into brilliant sunshine. Although she wasn’t certain about the route, she did her best to follow the map she picked up in the train station, and eventually she found herself standing outside the house she had been told was his.
Her first thought was that it was a pretty place, flowers creeping up the front, a square patch of lawn that she could imagine Tom mowing. Life, lived. The nausea of nerves rumbled in her stomach, so she took a seat on a bench on the opposite side of the road. It was facing away from the house, overlooking the overgrown perimeter of Hampstead Heath. Just a moment, that was all she needed, to think about what it might be that she was going to say. After all, it wasn’t every day you were reunited with the only man you had ever truly loved after almost a decade of absence. Should she start with hello? An apology? A big toothy smile? No, she thought, not that one; her tea habit ensured that her teeth weren’t that white anymore, a conclusion that at least helped to narrow down the options.
Just as she was getting up, dusting off her legs, she heard a woman’s voice calling Tom’s name. And the strange thing was the familiarity it aroused, the trill of it stirring a certainty that she had heard the voice before. Gazing over her shoulder, turning just enough to see, she saw Shelby Summerton standing at the front gate. “Tom,” she said again, calling into the open front door. “My parents won’t wait forever. Please would you get a move on.”
Moments later Elizabeth watched as he emerged from the building. His clothes were smart, his hair longer than it used to be, flopping into his eyes. Different, but undoubtedly Tom. And there, cradled in his arms with all the tenderness of a new father that she recognized from James, was a small baby, perhaps no older than a few months. Unable to move, she watched as he placed the baby in the car, then slipped in himself, before driving away without even realizing that she was there.
In none of the possibilities of what would transpire had she ever considered he might have built a new life without her, yet now she understood the wish from the previous year. Perhaps he had hoped they would raise a family, but he was instead doing it with somebody else. As the sound of the engine faded, she watched the car disappear around a corner. And that was it; once again, he was gone, too late for second chances.
* * *
Not a week later, her breath tight, she pushed her way up the steps to the old Mayon Lookout, then cut back down to the rocks as dusk fell across their village. Taking a seat in the spot where she had once lain with Tom, she unfurled the quilt, the one his family had been sewing for generations. Flickering in the breeze, the delicate white trim with colorful embroidery stared back at her. Her intention had been to save it for Kate, but now there was no point. Tom could never be her father. The rock was hard under her head, the quilt warm across her body as she gazed up at the glistening edge of their galaxy. Everything had changed in that silvery stain, but to look at it now it was as if nothing had changed at all. She could have been lying there on the same night almost ten years before, when she and Tom believed they had a whole life ahead of them.
After a while she sat up and folded the quilt as neatly as she could, found a nook that she thought was protected, and poked it inside. She pulled the copy of Pride and Prejudice that Tom had given her from her bag and tucked that in too. She had to say goodbye, return Tom to her past so that she might be able to live her life without him in the future. Some secrets, she thought, were supposed to be kept. She stepped close to the edge, where she could hear the roar of the water, and gazed across the indigo sea to where three more men were working in Wolf Rock Lighthouse. The light danced rhythmically across the waves, the heartbeat of her memories. Nothing had changed, and yet everything was different. It was, just as it was before, the closest she could get to him now.
Now
Their arms were tired from hoisting boxes into the nursing home, belongings he wouldn’t touch or use while he was there. Yet they helped create an illusion of familiarity, which was surprisingly comforting. Alice and Elizabeth were watching Tom, listening to the harsh reverberations of his breathing, when the melody of Elizabeth’s telephone broke the tension.
“It’s Kate,” she said as she looked at the screen. “She must be here.”
“Then you’d better answer it, hadn’t you,” Alice replied, a reassuring smile on her face.
Descending the wide staircase of the nursing home, Elizabeth took some deep yet insufficient breaths. Part of her wanted to rush to her daughter, but the part that still felt shame over the lies told in the past held her back as she opened the door. Kate was standing in the driveway, dressed in a thick winter coat and heavy woolen hat. Elizabeth was wearing nothing warmer than yesterday’s silk blouse, yet she didn’t feel the cold as the cool air brushed her skin. To see her daughter again after so long made words and sensory perceptions impossible, but somehow tears fought their way out. Kate was nervous too, she realized, her breaths fogging before her, one barely dissipating before the next cloud followed. Even through the heavy clothing Elizabeth could tell she had grown thinner since she had last seen her, almost twelve months ago.
Elizabeth had always been the first person Kate called with news, like when she was pregnant, or when she secured another build at work. Elizabeth had kept the truth from her daughter for the duration of James’s life out of respect for his dedication to the fulfilment of his promise, but after his death following a stroke the previous year, she had known the truth deserved a hearing. After they separated, James had stayed in Porthsennen, and despite their differences they remained cordial for their daughter’s sake; Kate had loved him as a father her whole life. And Elizabeth too had found an unusual sort of friendship at his side, support when it was needed, and a companion upon whom she could rely. When her father passed away at the age of eighty, living as a near recluse in the far reaches of Scotland, it was James who told her, and who understood the absence of grief. Elizabeth had expected upset, even anger when she told Kate the truth, but she had never expected to be excised from her daughter’s life. Elizabeth didn’t know if Kate’s anger ran deeper for the lie, or for the lost opportunity with Tom. But now there she was, standing before her.
“I’ve missed you,” Kate said as she reached out to hold her mother. “I’m so sorry for everything.”
“No, I’m the one who is sorry, Kate. Sorry for the lies, and that it took me so long to get us here.”
“Well, we’re here now.” The grand Victorian building rose up above them, Kate’s eyes drawn to the details. “I can’t believe I’m going to see him. And Alice too. Will he know it’s me?”
Elizabeth wiped her daughter’s tears. “I’ve done my best to explain to him, love, although he isn’t very coherent. But rest assured he knew the truth all right. He was never sure, but he told Alice he felt it.”
“I shouldn’t have taken so long to get here,” Kate said. “I left it too late.”
“It’s never too late,” Elizabeth said, guiding her dau
ghter toward the door.
* * *
Their feet fell into step as they climbed the stairs. With shaky fingers Kate reached for her mother’s hand. Looking at her daughter, the scarf pulled away from her face, Elizabeth saw the pale skin of Tom’s family and Kate’s nervous nibbling of her lip, which betrayed her fears.
“It’s going to be all right,” Elizabeth said, even though everything about that statement felt uncertain.
Letting go of her daughter’s hand as she reached the narrow corridor that led to Tom’s room, she motioned for Kate to enter. Over her shoulder Elizabeth could see Alice, emotion claiming her as her half sister arrived, tears welling in her tired eyes. Seeing them together was like seeing twins, albeit with an age difference. Alice came to the door, and without hesitating, she took Kate into her arms. Elizabeth felt like an interloper on the edge of their embrace, as if she shouldn’t be there, but moments later she felt Alice’s fingertips brushing her own. Alice was smiling at her as she held Kate with all her strength. She mouthed a thank-you, before leading Kate toward the bed. Alice whispered something in Kate’s ear just before they arrived, but Elizabeth couldn’t hear what was said.
“Dad, Kate’s here. She’s come to see you.”
Elizabeth lingered in the doorway, watching her daughter be guided by Tom’s daughter. Alice was younger, but in that moment it was she who seemed older, the one who offered support and led the way forward. Kate reached for Tom’s hand, and he opened his eyes a little, a flicker of a smile registering on the side of his face that was still working. “All right, Bab,” he said, his nickname for Alice, but he was looking at Kate as he said it.
“I think he thinks you’re me,” Alice whispered.
“Hello,” Kate said as she gazed at Tom, his eyes flickering shut. She wiped a tear away from her cheek as she leaned in close, kissing him on the forehead. “We look like him,” she said, turning to Alice. “I can tell that even now.”
“You’re alike in more ways than you could imagine,” Elizabeth said as she stepped into the room. A sense of rightness joined her then, a peace that perhaps she had laid the first brick in the road to recovery. “You have the same temperament, same determination.”
Kate stared at her father, her hand on the bony outcrop of his knee. “I don’t know what to say to him,” she whispered. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Would you like some time alone?” Elizabeth asked. “Just you and him?”
Kate shook her head and pulled up a chair. Her fingers clasped Tom’s, so tight it was as if she might never let them go. “We’ve all spent enough time apart from one another, don’t you think? Now’s the time for us to be together.” And Elizabeth knew there and then that the only wishes left that really mattered had already been fulfilled.
* * *
It had been raining steadily all day, the window speckled with drops, kaleidoscopic light refracting through. Neither Alice nor Elizabeth had moved for close to forty-eight hours, except to go to the bathroom or to make a cup of tea. The staff in the nursing home had been feeding them, and Elizabeth had a bag filled with fruit and potato chips, which just about kept them going between meals. If she never ate another salted chip in her life it would be too soon for Elizabeth.
A Bulgarian nurse called Liliya popped in at least once every hour to straighten Tom’s sheets and touch his face. It was nothing really, in the scheme of things, but it was a regular show of compassion, which meant a lot. Somebody beyond the door was thinking about them, and it really helped, because most of the time it felt as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist. Whenever the nurse left the room one of them always commented on how nice she was, before they fell back into silence broken only by the chesty rattle that resonated between them.
Tom’s breathing difficulties intensified only a short while after Brian and Kate had both left for the day. Before that, if they ignored the facial droop and his slender frame, they could almost convince themselves he was sleeping peacefully. Elizabeth had even said it once, and Alice had agreed. That he seemed at peace. It was one of those things you said in the absence of having something of value to add. It was designed to make you feel better about things, and in a way, it did. But then everything seemed to take on an erratic energy, as if Tom was fighting the inevitable, as if he hoped there was still time left for one last hurrah before the lights went out for good.
Elizabeth lowered the lights and picked up a flashlight, something she used to get around in the dark without bothering Tom once night set in. Sometimes the sound of his breathing was overwhelming, and she would turn it on, that small beam of light just enough that she could see her own gnarled hands through the dark, enough to ground her in the present. But as she closed her eyes in the hope of sleep, she realized that all she could hear was Alice, the soft lull as she slept. The silence of the room. Flicking the switch on the flashlight, she shone it at Tom. His chest wasn’t moving. And then suddenly it was, the rattling returning as a temporary relief. Lifting the heavy covers, she placed a hand against his, but found it cold, his fingertips blue.
“Alice,” she said, flicking on the main light.
Alice roused. “What is it?”
“His breathing has changed.” They edged forward in their seats, both watching, both knowing, and yet denying all the same the inevitable as his breathing shallowed again. “Liliya is working, isn’t she?” Elizabeth asked.
“I’ll go,” Alice said, knowing she would be faster. The door handle struck the wall outside as she flew through and down the stairs, as if they needed a witness, as if there was still something that could be done. Elizabeth huddled as close to Tom as she could, held his cold hand, let her head rest against his.
“It’s okay,” she said. “You’ve done all you had to do. It’s okay to go if you’re ready.”
Elizabeth was still at the bedside when Alice returned to the room with Liliya, her cheeks red, eyes wet. Tom’s breathing had softened by then, had become slow and thin. Alice crept to his side, almost tiptoeing, and as she sat next to the bed she held his hand.
“I love you, Dad” was all she said. Elizabeth couldn’t find any more words, but she could have sworn that in the same moment he opened his eyes with a fright, and gasped a little as he took his final breath, almost as if that time he knew it was over.
Liliya leaned in close. “Alice,” she said, “I’m so sorry, but he’s gone.” Elizabeth looked up, saw Alice with her head flat against her father’s chest, alongside her own. Tears flooded her face, her cheeks hot and red. Liliya held her as she led her away, already searching in her pocket for her phone, no doubt to call Brian. “Elizabeth, do you need a moment longer?” Liliya asked as she stood at the door. “I can come back in a while if you like.”
Elizabeth shook her head, sat up. She stroked Tom’s hair and kissed his warm lips. “No,” she said as she stood up. “We’ve said our goodbyes.” But as she walked to join Alice, she stopped briefly to open the window. The sound of falling rain and a cool wind filled the room. The curtain breezed open like the rolling tide lapping against the Porthsennen shore. “So he can find his way home,” she said, and that was the last time she ever saw him.
* * *
Dear Elizabeth,
As I sit at the dining table to write this letter you are upstairs in my house, taking a bath. It is such a simple picture, and yet one that I never imagined would ever come true. There are things I want to say for which I cannot find the courage, but let me start by stating something that I hope by now is obvious: I have never forgotten you, Elizabeth, and my love over the years has never waned. It is important to say that now, because I want you to know that when I asked you to stay here it was not a spur-of-the-moment decision. I have wanted you with me my whole life.
But I have been a coward, Elizabeth. When I left Porthsennen to go to Wolf Rock, I had every intention of returning to become the man I promised you I could be. I wanted so much to be your husband and call you my wife. But like a fool, when you
didn’t write, when I heard about the pregnancy and then about your subsequent marriage to James, I made assumptions. Wrongly, we now know, after everything you explained about what James did, but I confess I found it easier to believe his lies than to trust that you could ever want me to be a father to our child. Even now as you talk of Kate you are yet to tell me whether she is really mine. You too must harbor your own fears, just as my old fears continue to hold me back. Perhaps you don’t want me to know. Perhaps we waited too long. Perhaps for all these years I have been wrong. But I don’t believe it. I believe, in my heart, that she is ours. I have to believe the love we shared came to something after all.
But my purpose in this letter is not to explain or excuse myself. It is to tell you that if what I believe to be true really is, then I forgive your silence. I want you to understand the joy it would bring me to know that our love brought something as beautiful as a child into this world. Yes, I have missed out, but this is not your fault. I am to blame, holding back through a fear of rejection. I had the opportunity to knock on your door forty-nine times, and through fear of my own incapability, I never took it. We may both have made dark mistakes, but they pale in comparison to the light we created together, and that I do not doubt for a moment Kate brings into this world.
So, I want to finish by thanking you, Elizabeth, for being here now. I always knew that if your face was the view I got to wake up next to during the final stage of my life, it would have been a life well lived. My last, and lasting, wish is fulfilled; here you are with me.
Little Wishes Page 27
