The Healing Place

by Clare Nonhebel

CHAPTER 27

  ‘Franz, wake up, it’s after twelve o’clock!’

  ‘Hm?’

  ‘Wake up! We’re meant to be meeting Rachel!’

  ‘Oh – where’s the phone?’

  ‘Try your pocket.’

  He stood by the bed, clothed and crumpled. ‘Where did I put the number of the nursing home? Oh, got it.’

  Ella went into the bathroom while he phoned. She was thankful she had no nausea this morning - maybe because it was no longer morning. She went to the toilet, splashed water on her face and went back into the room.

  ‘There’s no rush,’ Franz told her. ‘Rachel’s only just woken up. I spoke to a Sister Imelda. She’s going to tell her we’ll pick her up in half an hour. She also said we should go to the Grange and not the Shamrock because Paddy the handyman told her the Shamrock does soggy chips.’

  Ella smiled, not asking.

  ‘He died,’ Franz said. ‘Within half an hour of our leaving. Sister Briege and Sister Imelda were both with him. She said he was very peaceful.’

  ‘Franz, I’m so sorry.’ She went over and hugged him. He buried his face in her hair for a minute.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked her. ‘Do you feel up to doing this lunch thing?’

  ‘Would you rather see Rachel on your own?’

  ‘Not really. But don’t feel you have to come. It could get heavy.’

  ‘You both need time to grieve.’

  ‘It’s not that. We parted on bad terms, all those years ago. I still didn’t tell you what I did.’

  ‘Oh.’ She thought he had – the bit about telling his father he never wanted to see him again. But of course that had been remedied: he had then asked to go and live near him. ‘Do you want to talk now?’

  ‘I think I need to talk to Rachel. If you don’t mind being there, I can tell you at the same time. Then you can give each other moral support in thinking the worst of me!’ His tone was joking but his eyes were anxious.

  ‘I don’t know what you did to hurt Rachel,’ Ella said, ‘but I’ll tell you one thing. She was so happy to see you last night.’

  ‘Was she?’

  ‘Yes. I think she was nervous about whether you’d be pleased to see her. Her eyes lit up when I told her you called her your sister.’

  ‘Poor Rachel. Ella, I need to talk to you about her. I don’t know what she’s going to do now. I only had a few words with her last night, in the circumstances, but she’s not as happy in Jamaica as she said she was at first.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I don’t know. She might say more today. Something to do with her mother. She may not have wanted to say it in front of my father.’

  ‘Was Rachel living with her mother?’

  ‘She moved out last year and rented a room.’

  ‘By herself?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘That’s no good, is it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Franz, whatever you want,’ said Ella. ‘Whatever she wants.’

  ‘I think she might not want to go back there. She’s been here five months and hadn’t got anything planned beyond … today.’

  Hadn’t planned anything beyond her father's - or substitute father's - death.

  ‘What are you thinking, Franz? Ask her to come back with us?’

  ‘We don’t really have room, do we?’

  ‘We could make room. Why don’t you see how she feels first?’

  ‘Yes. Though she may not know how she feels.’

  ‘Definite family resemblance there,’ Ella teased him, and he smiled.

  ‘Okay, I asked for that one.’

  Ella kissed him. ‘Talk to her first,’ she said, ‘and we can discuss it. But basically, whatever seems right is fine by me.’

  Rachel was waiting for them outside when the car drew up in front of the nursing home. She looked very young, Ella thought. And alone.

  ‘He died,’ she said, getting into the back of the car.

  ‘We know,’ said Franz.

  ‘Sister Briege said if you want to call in when we come back, and have a word, you can. Or tomorrow if you prefer.’

  ‘We’ll do it today,’ Franz said. ‘We’ll need to arrange the funeral.’

  ‘He didn’t want us to stay around for it.’

  ‘Okay, we can talk about that. How are you feeling, Rachel?’

  ‘How do you think I feel?’ she said defensively.

  He looked at her in the driving mirror as he pulled out of the drive. ‘Like shit,’ he said, ‘if you’re anything like me.’

  She gave a half laugh and sat back in the seat. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘The Grange. Paddy the handyman says the Shamrock has soggy chips.’

  ‘It doesn’t. Paddy had a row with the barman, who threw him out after his fourteenth Guinness.’

  ‘I was forgetting you had local knowledge,’ Franz said. ‘Which is it to be then, the Shamrock or the Grange?’

  ‘I’ve never been to either of them.’

  ‘Okay. Let’s try the Grange, on the recommendation of Sister Imelda who’s probably never been there either, has she?’

  ‘I doubt it.’

  Her accent was unusual, Ella reflected. The Caribbean lilt would have been added in the past – what? – ten years at most, to the Irish undertones which had had a refresher course in the last five months. She’s on her guard, Ella thought. But she loves Franz. She’s just not sure where she stands with him. With us.

  They passed the Shamrock Inn, which was small and crowded, and arrived at the Grange, which looked bleak and uninviting and had only a few cars in the car park. Sister Imelda recommended it because she knew it would be quiet, Ella thought.

  Sure enough, the place was empty except for a couple of old men sitting chatting at the bar and one couple at a table eating sandwiches. Music played in the background, almost inaudibly. A log fire burned in the grate at one end of the lounge.

  ‘Shall we go and sit in the corner, by the fire?’ Ella suggested.

  ‘Good idea,’ said Franz. ‘I’ll get the drinks. Rachel, what would you like?’

  Rachel seemed overcome by shyness again. ‘What are you having?’ she asked Ella.

  She’s not used to going out, Ella thought. ‘I’m going to have an orange juice and lemonade,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll have that as well.’

  ‘Good,’ said Franz. ‘I’ll bring the menu over, if there is one. You girls sit down.’

  Ella settled herself in the corner and smiled at Rachel. ‘I think I’m a bit old to be called a girl,’ she said.

  ‘So am I.’

  ‘What age are you, if you don’t mind my asking?’

  ‘Twenty-three. Last week. How old are you?’

  She had the directness of a child, Ella thought. ‘Thirty-two.’

  ‘Same age as Michael,’ Rachel said.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Should I call him Franz now?’ Rachel asked her. ‘If that’s what he calls himself?’

  ‘You can ask him,’ Ella said, ‘but I don’t suppose it matters. He changed his surname to Kane, did you know?’

  ‘No. I didn’t know if the letter would arrive. I hadn’t written to him for ages. Sister Briege’s letter came back with Not Known written on it.’

  ‘That was my fault. I didn’t recognize the name and thought it had been wrongly addressed. What made you try again?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I’m glad you did.’

  Rachel gave a sudden flash of a smile. ‘So am I.’

  ‘It would be awful,’ Ella said, ‘if you’d had to cope with this on your own.’

  ‘Yes.’ Her lip trembled.

  Franz came over with the drinks. ‘They’ve got tomato soup, homemade, various kinds of sandwiches, and chicken or sausage with chips.’

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ said Rachel quickly. She took out her purse and tried to hand Franz money for her drink but he put out a hand to stop her. There wasn’t much in the purse, El
la noticed.

  ‘I’m not very hungry either,’ Ella said. ‘How about if we just have soup, Rachel, we … girls?’ She pulled a face at Franz.

  Rachel stared at her feet.

  ‘I’ll have that as well,’ Franz said. ‘Three soups? Rachel?’

  ‘Okay.’ When Franz went off to order, she said, ‘I can’t think straight at the moment.’

  ‘It’s normal. It’s grief.’

  ‘Were you like that when your brother ….?’

  ‘I was like a zombie,’ Ella told her. ‘Couldn’t function at all.’

  ‘Did it last long?’ She looked worried.

  ‘It came and went for a while. It’s like any other kind of progress – two steps forward and one back.’

  Rachel thought about it. ‘I was meant to be working at two o’clock today. Sister Imelda told me to forget it. She said that I can stay on here as long as I like. Then Sister Briege told me I was free to leave. She said, “Your work here is finished.”’

  ‘Do you feel that it is?’

  ‘I suppose. I don’t know if they’re telling me to stay or go, though.’

  ‘It sounds like they’re telling you you’re welcome to stay on if you want to, but don’t feel you have to if your reason for being there is fulfilled.’

  ‘I see.’ She went quiet.

  ‘I think it’s one of the things Franz would like to talk to you about,’ Ella said gently.

  Rachel looked startled. ‘What?’

  ‘He seems concerned about you going back to Jamaica, unless it’s really what you want.’

  ‘He doesn’t have to worry about me,’ she said, with sudden fierceness.

  Franz came back in time to catch her last words. He raised his eyebrows at Ella as he came up behind Rachel and sat down.

  ‘I have something to say to you,’ he said, ‘and it’s long overdue so I hope you’ll listen to me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Rachel, that I hurt you.’

  Tears filled her eyes but she shook her head impatiently. ‘Don’t be stupid,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘I did something terrible,’ he said. ‘I haven’t even told Ella about it. I was about to but I felt I needed your permission before I did. Do you mind if I tell her?’

  ‘It was my fault,’ said Rachel. The tears were falling on to her hands now and she flapped them furiously, as if blaming them for their involvement. ‘It was me that did it.’

  ‘Can I tell it my way?’ Franz asked her.

  ‘You can do what you like. You can tell her anything you want,’ said Rachel. ‘I don’t care what you say. It won’t make any difference to me.’

  She’s so scared, Ella thought. As with the first time she had seen her coming into the room with the pile of towels, she felt physical pain coming from the girl and striking her in the heart, like an arrow.

  Franz leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him as though in prayer. He looks so much like his father, thought Ella; it’s uncanny. She had the impression that Franz was waiting now for his father to help him find the words, as she had waited to find the right words to say to his son last night.