“The next two are gifts,” I said. “From your mother.”
Tilly took the drawing first, her eyes misting as she saw the shape of her own face, her own nose. I watched her trace the curve of her lips, and the soft outline of her baby face. And then she opened the second piece of paper, and I could just see the loops of barely familiar handwriting through the photocopy, although I knew what it said – had read it so many times over the last year that I had committed it to memory.
Tilly read it slowly – and then she started to cry.
“Oh, sweetie.” I glanced from Dad to her. “Grandad told me something once. He said, ‘Don’t be defined by tragedy.’ He didn’t want me to be sad all of the time, to let that change who I was. He was a bit right, but he was also wrong. If I’d done what he suggested I might never have found you. It’s okay to be sad sometimes.” She watched me carefully. I pointed at the letter in her hands, the one we had found taped to the back of Olive’s last painting.
“I found you because I never gave up. I came back to Bishop’s Green, even though it was sad, and I tried again. Do you want to try again with me?”
She sniffled. And then nodded.
“Can we go now?” she said, glancing between the three of us. “I mean… to your home?”
Hope soared in my chest like a bird. I pulled Tilly into a tight hug, wrapped both of my arms around her and breathed in her shampoo-sweet hair.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Let’s go home.”
“And then…” Tilly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Then I want to show you where I think my mother – my real mother – is buried.”
56
MY BABY, MATILDA,
I’ve tried to write this letter before, but it comes out all garbled. Time is running out though so this will have to be the last one. I’m tired, it’s been a long few days, and I’m sorry. If the words come out wrong, I hope you’ll forgive me. But I also hope you never have to read this.
All I ever wanted was the best for you. I don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but if you do it will probably be in bad times – and for that I’m sorry, too. If you’re reading this, then I’m sorry that we didn’t make it. You and me. All I wanted was to keep you safe. I knew that it would be up to me to save you. I don’t know why I’m writing this really… By the time you read it, you’ll be old, and you might not remember me at all.
The truth is, I’m afraid. I used to think that I knew what fear was, but I didn’t. The moment I saw your face for the first time – I was afraid. Not just for myself but for you, too. A mother’s love is strong and I learnt what it was to be afraid for somebody else.
I used to think that my own mother was weak, you know. She used to shout at us, at my sister and me. Cassie didn’t care, or it felt like that, but I hated it. But now I know why she shouted. She shouted because she was afraid. That’s what motherhood is. Fear and love in equal parts.
I still marvel at you. Your face is perfect. You have ten fingers, ten toes, and I think you look a lot like me. Even if you hadn’t been perfect, I would love you anyway. Another truth: I don’t know what to do. I just know that we can’t stay here. I can’t let you live the life that I have lived. The darkness, the cold. The loneliness. He is dangerous. Really, truly dangerous. I realised that the moment he hurt his wife instead of letting us go free. I don’t want that world for you, hiding just to stay safe.
I often wonder if my family is out there, somewhere. I have thought long and hard about whether I should just keep going as I have been. Keeping my head down, so that neither of us want for anything. Tonight I realised that in not wanting, we are still wanting. We want for fresh air and freedom, if not blankets and food. And although we would be safe in here – as safe as we can be – I can’t let it continue. I have lived lives through books, but they aren’t real lives. They’re mirrors. Tonight the mirror is reflecting so much more than this room, and I’m going crazy.
In another life, I would have named you something like Sophie, or Hannah. Those were my favourite names once. But you are a Matilda, like the little girl in a book who was so different and special – and who never let anybody take those gifts from her. I hope that you can believe me when I tell you that I love you with all of my heart. No matter what happens tonight, this letter is proof of that. I feel better knowing that somehow, somewhere, there is proof.
Matilda, no matter what happens, remember this: you are not alone.
With endless love,
Olive Mum
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
FIRST NOVELS ARE OFTEN a long time in the making and After the Eclipse is no different. I have been telling stories for as long as I can remember and having my words in the hands of readers means more to me than I can express. Thank you to all of you, I hope you have enjoyed reading this novel as much as I enjoyed writing it.
This book would not have been possible without the support of my amazing agent Diana Beaumont. Thank you for having faith in Cassie, for helping her to find a place in the world, and for your continued warmth and knowledge. Thanks also to Sandra Sawicka for putting up with my foreign rights questions and tax-related freak-outs!
Huge thanks to the Titan team for helping me shape Cassie’s story into one I am proud to share, especially Miranda for taking a chance on me and Cath for the incredible insight along the way. Thanks to Joanna, Sam, Lydia and Philly, and to Julia Lloyd for her stunning cover designs.
I’ve had some fabulous teachers and supporters over the years, including Karen Sherwin, Gareth Summers, Rosemary Archer, and Chris Bigsby. The decision to study on the City Crime/Thriller MA was one of the best I ever made and I want to thank Claire McGowan, William Ryan and Jane Casey for their feedback and advice – I know I am a stronger writer for every piece. Much love to all of my classmates, but especially to my cracking #SauvLife crew. Chris, Jenny and Lizzie you guys mean the world to me and I know that in you I have truly found my people. Also the fabulous Crime Kissers: Vallery, Finn, Litty and Liz. I’m so grateful for your persistent help and feedback and for you putting up with my awkward work schedules. Vallery, thank you so much for trusting that I wasn’t going to murder you in your sleep and for giving a poor student a place to crash every week. Show this to your mum and maybe she’ll finally believe how harmless I am!
I have made some of the best friends during my writing journey, but a big shout out to the Derbyshire Doomsbury writers: Roz Watkins, Jo Jakeman, Sophie Draper and Louise Trevatt. You guys keep me sane! I cherish our Friday evenings and all of the work we definitely do during them.
Thanks to all of my early readers and friends and to everybody who has been part of my life, especially: Jordanna Rowan, Paul Cockburn, Lee Hulme and the Notts NaNo group, Ginny Larkin-Thorsen, Becky Clarke, Natalie Beale, Isabel Muller, Vanessa Chainey, and Alex Doughty. Allison Hargett, this is a reminder that I love you For Good and I am incredibly grateful for our friendship. Much love to everybody at Waterstones Derby who has supported me but most of all Callie, my bookseller bestie, life would not be the same without you and I’m so happy I get to work with somebody who makes me laugh (#Trashfire).
I know a lot of people think their family is the best but I know mine is. Tom, you are the best sounding-board and friend I could ever ask for. Thank you for cat-juggling, for dog-wrestling, for snack-fetching and for believing me every time (okay, some times) that I said we would go to the gym again soon. Thank you, too, for being selfless and patient and helping me out without warning.
Sian, thank you for your patience during my edits and for putting up with my writer brain. I appreciate every kind word and smile. I hope you enjoy reading the finished product!
Mum, Dad and Steve, thank you all for your continued love and support and for always encouraging me to be myself and follow my dreams. Truly I could not have done any of this without you. Alisha, you are the best little sister anybody could ask for. Thank you for always being there for me, even after I told you about my vampire twins story idea when we were kids.
I love you to infinity. I know you don’t read books but you’d better read this one! Finally, to Star, Magic, Zeus, Xena, Juno, Shadow and Jet – I would be endlessly more productive if I didn’t spend accidental hours snuggling you furry monsters and I wouldn’t change a thing.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
FRAN DORRICOTT is a bookseller and author. She studied creative writing at the University of East Anglia, and she received a distinction for her MA in Creative Writing from City University London. Her day job in a bookshop is secretly just a way for her to fuel her ridiculous book-buying addiction. The opportunity to draw inspiration from the many wonderful and wacky customer requests is also a plus.
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