The House of Tides

by Hannah Richell

  Everyone at the agency has been great. She’d been worried about telling Dominic about her pregnancy but he’d simply given her a big bear hug and told her to discuss her maternity leave terms with HR. The job would still be waiting for her when she returned. If he was annoyed to be losing a newly promoted account manager for a few months he’d hidden his frustration well. Gradually, as the news had spread, the girls in the office had crowded around her desk, everyone wanting to know how she was feeling, when the baby was due, if she had picked out any names yet or knew what sex it would be. It had suddenly made it all dauntingly real. Thank God for straight-talking Leela, who had just looked her up and down and said, “Damn, I was going to ask where you’d got your new bra from. Your tits look fantastic!”

  The hospital isn’t far from the bus stop and she arrives early, making her way through the maze of corridors and wards until she finds the ultrasound clinic. Dora gives the receptionist her name and then settles into the waiting room with a well-worn magazine. It looks as though she might be there awhile; several women are already seated. She hopes it won’t be too long; she’d been told to arrive with a full bladder and she is already bursting for the loo.

  With the magazine spread across her lap, she pretends to read an article about how to get the perfect bikini body while actually sneaking surreptitious glances at the other women waiting in the clinic. They are mostly in their twenties and thirties, although one woman looks older; she carries a serious-looking briefcase and sits tapping urgently on her BlackBerry. There are partners there too, men shuffling around, some awkward and embarrassed, speaking quietly in hushed tones, others proud, their hands placed with ownership on their wives’ swelling bellies. She sees a harried-looking man race past after a manic, giggling toddler while his partner looks on with an indulgent smile, and in the farthest corner a woman, pale and miserable, breathing deeply through her mouth as she clutches desperately at an emergency paper bag. Dora recognizes the symptoms of morning sickness and throws her a shy, sympathetic smile.

  She tries not to stare at them all but she can’t help it; it is their bumps she is most fascinated by. She tries to compare her own growing stomach with those around her, but it’s too hard. They are all different sizes and shapes—some nonexistent, some tiny, and some downright enormous. It seems extraordinary suddenly, to be sitting there, surrounded by so much hope and expectation, so much burgeoning new life.

  A woman in a sari is ushered out of one of the examination rooms, her partner following behind looking proud and triumphant. While he settles up with the receptionist, Dora watches the woman stare at a small black-and-white photo in her hand. She can’t seem to take her eyes off it. Dora thinks of Dan’s “space prawn” and smiles. The couple thank the receptionist and leave the clinic, and as they exit through the swinging door two more women enter the room. They sport matching hairstyles—artfully razored bobs—and are holding hands; one of them is obviously pregnant. Seeing them, Dora is reminded of Cassie.

  She has thought about her sister a lot over the last few weeks. It’s been hard not to. It makes no difference to her that her sister is gay. It makes no difference to her who her sister loves. She’s glad she has told her; she’s glad that Cassie can be open about her sexuality. Keeping an important part of herself hidden away like that…well, it can’t have been easy…and for all Cassie’s bravado, Dora knows that her sister would have been scared to tell them. But she’s glad she knows and she’s glad that Cassie might have someone in her life who makes her happy.

  It’s the other secrets that Cassie laid bare that day in the gardens of Swan House, the secrets that shifted the very foundations of Dora’s own long-held guilt—those are the ones Dora has struggled with. She meant what she told her mother last month up on Primrose Hill: She does believe it is time to move on and to leave the past behind them, and yet, whenever it comes to Cassie’s revelation, Dora’s struggled.

  She’s lain awake at night staring at the ceiling, playing the scene over and over in her head, pressing PAUSE, REWIND, and PLAY over and over, until the new images Cassie has given her are intertwined with her own memories of the day. While it has been a relief to understand the full picture at last, it has brought with it a new and troubling emotion.

  It’s anger that she’s felt. Anger that Cassie could have been so cruel…so selfish…to push Alfie away like that and then to cover up her mistakes for so long and with such painful, enduring consequences. And yet she knows they were mistakes…selfish, teenage mistakes, but mistakes nonetheless. Of course Cassie didn’t want Alfie to drown that day. There was nothing premeditated in her actions, nothing purposefully malicious or evil about what she did, and Dora knows, better than most, that if her own suffering over the last decade is anything to go by, her sister will have paid in full.

  Yet something has held her back from contacting Cassie. She knows that if she can’t forgive her sister for her part in the day, then she can’t truly leave it behind and move forward from the tragedy of their shared past. But she just doesn’t know if she is ready to let go of the anger she holds inside. It’s still there, hot and real, and she simply doesn’t know how to release it.

  “Dora Tide?…Is Dora Tide here?”

  The nurse calling her name pulls Dora from her thoughts. She reaches for her handbag, rises stiffly from the chair, and makes her way through to the examination room. She is greeted by a smiling technician who ushers her up onto the bed and then turns to fiddle with the high-tech equipment beside them.

  “I’m Maria. This will feel a little cold, I’m afraid,” she says as she squirts a cold jelly onto her abdomen. “Do you have a full bladder today?”

  “Oh yes,” groans Dora.

  “Good, don’t worry; this shouldn’t take too long. Is this your first baby?”

  Dora nods.

  “Lovely, well, let’s take a look, shall we?”

  Dora nods again, suddenly nervous, and stares expectantly up at the large screen angled above her. Up until now this scan has only ever seemed routine, a chance to get another glimpse at her baby, but now, lying here surrounded by medical equipment and beeping machines, she is struck by a sense of terror. What if something is wrong? She wishes Dan were here.

  Maria presses the probe against her skin and moves it up and down and around until suddenly, the screen is filled with gray and white lines and strange swirls. Dora peers at the image carefully, and as Maria moves the probe lower across her belly, suddenly it appears: the outline of a tiny human being nestled deep within her. She can see a head in profile, a tiny button nose, and the curve of a spine before the image shifts and Dora loses the outline.

  “It looks like we’ve got a wriggly one here. Your baby’s just turned over. I’ll try to get the image back. Come on, little one.” She presses the probe deeper still against her skin.

  Dora seizes onto her words hungrily. A wriggly one. That sounds good. That sounds healthy. Dan will like that. She ignores the discomfort in her bladder now; the technician can push as hard as she likes for all Dora cares, anything for another glimpse of that tiny person inside her body. And then suddenly, there it is again, definitely a baby, not a prawn. Dora’s eyes uncontrollably brim with tears as she watches the tiny being wriggling and kicking.

  “A good strong heartbeat,” says Maria as they listen to the galloping hoofbeats of the baby’s heart.

  “It sounds fast. Is that okay?”

  “Yes, perfectly normal.” She fiddles with her equipment and marks up some indeterminable black blobs on the screen. “There are the four chambers of the heart.” There’s another pause. “And there’s the blood flow. Everything looks good.”

  Dora swallows.

  “And look, there’s a hand,” Maria says. She adjusts the probe slightly and zooms in on one fuzzy section of the image. “Five digits on the left hand.” She repeats the process. “And five on the right. All good.”

  As the scan progresses, Maria checks off a scarily long list of body parts and functions,
things Dora hadn’t even known to worry about like bone length, head size, and blood flow through the cord and kidneys. Thankfully her nerves are short-lived; the baby passes every test with flying colors.

  “Aw, do you see that?” Maria asks as the scan draws to a close. “Your baby’s sucking its thumb. I’ll see if I can get a picture of that for you.”

  And then, all too soon, it is over. Dora leaves the clinic, clutching the black-and-white photo protectively. She can’t wait to show Dan.

  She doesn’t need to be back at the office for another hour, so she waits in a tiny sandwich bar for a grilled cheese and then sits on a bench in a tiny garden square, watching the jet stream of an airplane thread across a tiny patch of blue high up in the sky. The sun might be making a rare autumn cameo but it’s still cold. She pulls her jacket around her, noting that it doesn’t quite meet in the middle anymore. Then she pulls the image of the baby out of her bag and sits for a moment, marveling at its perfection. She can’t see evidence of her or Dan in the image, it just looks like a fuzzy line drawing of a tiny little person, but she can’t stop staring at it. Their baby. She and Dan have created a whole new life. It’s a cliché, she knows, but it seems nothing short of a miracle. Happiness bubbles up inside of her and she realizes, for the very first time, that she cannot wait to meet their child.

  Dan’s mobile is still switched off, which means his interview must be going well, but Dora is frustrated. She wants to share her excitement with someone. She wants to talk about the scan. She wants to laugh about the butterflies she can feel fluttering inside—which are, Maria reassured her, the sensation of her baby moving about—and marvel at the fact she is growing a person inside her body, a real, living baby who wriggles and kicks and sucks their thumb.

  She turns her phone over in her hands and then tries Dan’s number again. It goes straight to voicemail. Frustrated, she begins to scroll through her contacts. The sight of one name makes her pause. She stares at it until the letters begin to blur. Her finger hesitates over the little green button on the keypad. She thinks for a moment and then, straightening her shoulders, she presses the button, holding the phone to her ear for what feels like an eternity until she hears the familiar voice answer at the other end.

  “Cassie, it’s me…it’s Dora. How are you?” She smiles. “Me? I’m good. I’m great, actually. I’ve just been for a scan.” She listens for a moment and then shakes her head. “No, everything’s fine. The baby’s great. Everything’s in the right place, thank goodness.” She laughs at her sister’s response and then settles back onto the bench. “How are things going?” Dora listens to her sister’s answer until a silence descends over the phone line. She knows it’s now or never, so, with a deep breath, she speaks. “Listen, I was wondering…if you might like to…I don’t know, come for dinner one night?…Yes, we’re in North London. It’s not too far.” Cassie speaks again and Dora smiles. “Great, bring your girlfriend, if you like? You can meet Dan. I know he’d love to meet you too.” Dora listens for another moment and then nods. “I’d like that too.”

  As the two sisters begin to make the arrangements, Dora watches golden leaves spiral down from the branches of the tall elm tree overhead, landing like small blessings at her feet.

  Chapter 20

  Cassie

  Present Day

  Early on Christmas Eve morning Cassie gently extracts herself from Scarlett’s warm embrace, scampers across the drafty bedroom, and stands under a warm trickle of water in the shower. She dresses quickly and then, picking up her small weekend bag and a large bouquet of white roses, holly, and winter jasmine, she quietly lets herself out of Swan House.

  It is one of those blissfully crisp winter days that fill her heart with joy. It’s already been a grueling winter, the days dark and dreary, but today the sky is eggshell blue and the sun glints pale silver through the bare trees. A local taxi is waiting for her, as promised, in the driveway.

  “Where to?” asks the driver as she clambers into the back of the cab.

  “The station, please.”

  “Right you are, love.” He eyes her through his rearview mirror. “Nice flowers,” he comments as she closes the door behind her with a slam.

  “Thanks, they’re for my mum.”

  “Going home for the holidays?”

  “Yes,” says Cassie with a shy smile. “I’m going home.”

  It is Helen’s idea: Christmas at Clifftops. Everyone back together, just like the old days. Cassie is nervous; she hasn’t been back since she left all those years ago and she is full of trepidation about returning to her family and to the memories that live on in the old house. But Helen has been persuasive. It’s obvious she wants to host the day, to gather them all together, to rebuild the bridges and perhaps finally make peace with the past, and who is Cassie to get in the way of that? It might be difficult heading back there after all this time, but it is only a couple of days after all, and if Richard and Violet are adult enough to join the celebrations, well then, why can’t she?

  Even so, she’d called Dora beforehand, just to check.

  “Yes,” Dora confirmed. “Dan and I will be there too. And the bump, which I might add is growing rapidly by the day. I shan’t be able to go near the sea for fear of being mistaken for a beached whale.”

  Cassie had laughed. “I bet you look amazing.”

  “Hmmm…,” replied Dora skeptically. “Amazingly huge.”

  Silence fell across the telephone line. “It’s going to be strange, isn’t it? Going back…”

  “Yes,” agreed Dora. “Yes it will, but I think it’s time.”

  “Yes,” agreed Cassie.

  The two sisters had chatted for a while longer, both of them skirting around more sensitive subjects, but Christmas, it seemed, had been decided.

  It is dark outside by the time her train pulls into Weymouth station, but Richard is waiting for her as arranged, his coat collar pulled up around his ears against the cold.

  “Come on,” he urges, taking her bag and embracing her with his free arm, “let’s get you into the warm. Everyone’s up at the house. They’re all waiting for you. And your mother’s cooking one of her special meals.”

  Cassie raises an eyebrow.

  “Don’t worry,” Richard says as he starts the engine, “the fish-and-chips place is open until nine. Dora’s already checked.”

  Richard’s Volvo purrs through the streets of Weymouth and then on through twisting country lanes. Every so often a cottage or house emerges from the darkness, lit up from within with lights blazing. Cassie sees families sitting around dining tables, eating and laughing, log fires roaring in hearths, Christmas trees decked with baubles and lights, excited children playing games and pleading for just a few more minutes before bed.

  “It’s like an ad for Christmas,” she muses as they pass yet another brightly lit cottage.

  “Yes,” agrees Richard. “I suppose it is.” There is a pause before Richard speaks again. “I’m glad you decided to tell us what happened out there, you know…with Alfie. It can’t have been easy.”

  “No.” She doesn’t know what else to say.

  Richard clears his throat. “And er…well, you know Scarlett would have been very welcome for Christmas too, if you’d wanted to bring her. I hope you don’t think…”

  Even in the darkness Cassie can feel the hot flush of her father’s cheeks. She puts him out of his misery. “Thanks, Dad. I did ask her but she already had plans. Maybe we could all do something in the New Year?”

  “Yes,” says Richard, “that would be lovely.” He pauses, indicating another turn. “Anyway, we’re all really glad you decided to come.”

  “Well, I can’t stay away forever, can I?”

  “No, I suppose not. But I know it means a lot to your mother. And to me, of course.” For a split second his eyes leave the road in front of them and they look at one another. Even in the darkness of the car Cassie can see the emotion in his eyes.

  “I’m glad I’m here too,
” Cassie says.

  They fall into silence until Richard clears his throat. “How are things going at Swan House? Are you going to let us in on that secret muesli recipe yet?”

  Cassie smiles. “It’s not mine, it’s Scarlett’s, and my life wouldn’t be worth living if I told you.”

  Richard laughs. “Fair enough. But you got the distribution deal you wanted?”

  Cassie nods. “Yes, it worked out really well in the end. We’re starting small with some of the more upmarket, independent grocers but it will give us a chance to build our customer base and manage our stock while we expand. Everyone’s really excited.” It’s true. Felix and the others are thrilled with the direction the Secret Garden business is heading in. They are not only covering their living costs now, but also even starting to turn over a profit, which is being carefully channeled back into the business and Swan House. They have plans to restore a second huge greenhouse and the orangery next spring, new recipes and products to trial, as well as a pick-your-own field of summer berries to plant and harvest. It’s going to be a busy time.

  But that is next year. For now, it is simply enough to be returning home. She feels butterflies when she thinks of Clifftops and the people already there, waiting for her arrival. She has come a long way in the last few years, yet the one place she has never revisited is Summertown. She has never been back to the place where it all began to fall apart. She knows it’s time, but she can’t help feeling a little scared. It is the last step.

  Richard seems to sense her nerves. “Not far now. Are you okay?”

  “Uh-huh.” She nods and then realizes with a start that she might not be the only one feeling strange about the holiday. “Is it okay…being back at Clifftops, after all this time? It must feel a little weird for you too, and for Violet?”