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 wrestled 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 and the things she told her about that day, 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. The pieces have fallen into place like a giant jigsaw puzzle; she can stand back now and see the whole sorry picture laid out before her eyes, the sum of all the various parts they each played, and 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, teenaged mistakes, but mistakes nonetheless. Dora knows in her heart Cassie didn’t want Alfie to drown that day . . . she didn’t want him to die. 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 agonising guilt over the last decade is anything to go by, her sister will have paid in full. She will have suffered.
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 forwards from the tragedy of their shared past. She knows that if she can’t do this the only person she will be fooling will be herself, and yet she just doesn’t know if she is ready to let go of the anger she has been feeling inside. It’s still there, hot and real, and she simply doesn’t know how to release it.
‘Dora? . . . 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 smiley 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 Dora’s 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 like routine, a chance to get another glimpse at her baby, but now, lying here surrounded by medical equipment and beeping machines, she feels terrified. What if something is wrong? What if something has happened to the baby and she hasn’t even realised? She wishes Dan were there.
The woman called Maria presses the probe against her skin and moves it up and down and around until, suddenly, the screen is filled with grey and white lines and strange swirls. Dora peers at the image carefully, the woman moves the probe lower across her belly, and then there it is: the shape 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.’ The technician 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 brim uncontrollably with tears as she watches the tiny being wriggling and kicking.
‘A good strong heartbeat,’ says Maria as they listen to the galloping hoof beats of the baby’s heart.
‘It sounds fast, is that OK?’
‘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. Dora realises she’s barely breathing. She’s spent so long wondering whether to even keep this baby, she hasn’t even thought of all the terrifying things that could be wrong with it. Thankfully her nerves are short-lived; the baby passes every test with flying colours.
‘Ah, 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 of her baby protectively to her. She can’t wait to show Dan.
She doesn’t need to be back at the office for another hour, so she queues in a tiny sandwich bar for a cheese toastie and then sits on a bench in a tiny garden square, watching the jet stream of an aeroplane 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 any more. Then she pulls the image of the baby out of her bag and sits for a moment, marvelling 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 her and she realises, for the very first time, that she cannot wait to meet their child.
Dan’s mobile is still switched off. The interview is presumably 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 its 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 handset 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.’ C
assie 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 as golden leaves spiral down from the branches of the tall elm tree overhead, landing like small blessings at her feet.
CASSIE
Present Day
Early on Christmas Eve morning Cassie gently extracts herself from Scarlett’s warm embrace, scampers across the draughty 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 fills her heart with joy. Already it’s been a gruelling 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, on 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 rear-view 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 she 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 in with 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 sceptically. ‘Amazingly huge.’
Silence fell across the 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 one sceptical eyebrow.
‘Don’t worry,’ Richard says as he starts the car engine, ‘the chippie’s 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 advert for Christmas,’ she muses as they pass yet another brightly lit cottage.
‘Yes,’ agrees Richard. ‘I suppose it is.’ There is a pause before he 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 for ever, 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,’ she 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 channelled 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 OK?’
‘Uh-huh.’ She nods and then realises with a start that she might not be the only one feeling strange about the holiday. ‘Is it OK . . . being back at Clifftops, after all this time? It must feel a little weird for you too, and for Violet?’
Richard smiles. ‘If you’d told me at the beginning of the year that we’d all be here celebrating Christmas together, well, you could have knocked me down with a feather. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel returning to the old place after all this time, but it’s rather nice to be here and not have the burden of it weighing on my shoulders. I didn’t realise how much I felt it. Funny how time changes things, isn’t it?’
Cassie looks across at her father and sees a definite lightness in his face.
‘We’re all just muddling through, I suppose,’ he continues. ‘Your mother is being very gracious, and Violet, well, Violet has such a big heart I don’t think she’d see all of this as anything other than a wonderful excuse for a party.’
Cassie smiles. ‘It will be good to see Dora and Dan,’ she adds. ‘Dora invited me for dinner last month. I met Dan and got to check out the bump. It was very neat then, but she says she’s huge now.’
Richard laughed. ‘She is. Hard to believe she still has a few weeks to go. She looks great, but if you ask me she looks ready to pop!’
; Cassie looks out of the car window and sees a sign for Summertown illuminated in the car headlights. Three quarters of a mile. They are nearly there.
It is Helen who greets her at the front door. She looks nervous, hovering on the top step with her long cardigan pulled around her body as Richard’s car sweeps up the driveway. Cassie grabs her bag and the bouquet of flowers off the back seat and then crunches her way up the gravel to the front door. They study each other for just a moment before Cassie walks into Helen’s open arms.
‘It’s lovely to have you home, Cassie.’ Her mother’s embrace feels warm and tight.
‘Thanks, Mum, it’s good to be back.’ She pulls away from her for a moment and lets Helen smooth her hair and squeeze her shoulder.
‘Don’t cry,’ Cassie adds, ‘it is Christmas after all.’
Helen nods and bites her lip. ‘I know. I’m not sad. I’m happy. It’s just so good to see you. It’s wonderful to have both of you girls back home, together.’
As if on cue Dora appears in the hallway behind them. ‘I thought I heard a car! And just in time for dinner as well, lucky you.’ She pulls a funny face behind Helen’s back leaving Cassie struggling to control her giggles. The two sisters embrace and Cassie feels the hard bulge of Dora’s tummy push against her.
‘You weren’t kidding,’ Cassie says, pulling back to regard her sister, ‘you’re enormous!’
‘I know.’ Dora beams and pats her stomach. ‘How was the trip? Train OK?’
‘Oh, you know. Delayed, crowded, smelly . . . but I’m here now. Oh,’ she says, remembering the flowers, ‘these are for you, Mum.’ She hands Helen the bouquet.
‘They’re beautiful. Are these from your garden?’
Cassie nods. ‘We grow the roses in the greenhouse.’
‘Clever you.’ Helen bends her head to smell the flowers. ‘Thank you. Let’s go into the kitchen. I’ll find a vase and you can tell me how things are going.’
She follows her mother down the hallway. The house appears exactly as she left it all those years ago. The same faded wallpaper and heavy oak panels, the same scuffed skirting boards and carpets, even the same photographs on the sideboard as she walks past. It is strangely comforting to see that things, in some ways, have remained the same at Clifftops.
Secrets of the Tides Page 37
