‘You were in here, messing with the camera, weren’t you?’ Miranda added.
‘I had an idea for a new kind of tripod. I just couldn’t figure out how it would attach to the camera.’
‘I knew you’d been up to something,’ Clementine said.
‘Don’t worry, Tadpole. It’ll come back to the other pictures, won’t it?’ Maggie said. ‘How long were you working on the camera?’
He looked very embarrassed now. ‘Quite a while.’
‘Ten minutes?’
‘Two hours,’ he said.
Maggie reached across and took the remote control. She pressed fast forward. The shot of the floorboards didn’t change for a long time. A high-speed version of Leo’s voice created a funny soundtrack. Now and again another image appeared; a shot of the window or a quick flash of the door as Leo moved the camera. There was nearly a minute of Leo’s face close to the lens, muttering away to himself, moving the camera up and down as he inspected it from all angles.
Clementine and Miranda were now laughing so hard they had tears in their eyes. They asked Maggie to get it to play normally. It was even funnier in normal time.
It ended with a final shot of the floorboards before the screen flickered to show a four-second image of Miranda getting up from the table where she had just finished her reminiscences. Gabriel’s voice was heard again. ‘That was great. Thanks, everyone.’ The screen went black.
Leo had his head in his hands, rocking back and forth. Maggie and his two daughters went over and sat next to him, still laughing, putting their arms around him.
‘My beautiful idea, ruined,’ he said. He was truly upset. ‘When will I ever get to do that again? Are we too late to get to the airport with the camera? Maybe they’re all still there?’
‘No!’ the three of them answered in unison.
‘Don’t worry, Leo, really,’ Clementine said. ‘That was much more fun than watching ourselves.’
‘No, it wasn’t. I had it all planned. It was going to be a special gift for you and for Maggie in years to come. Now what do I have to give you? A film of a mad old man alone in a room talking to himself.’
‘That’s why it’s so good, Tadpole.’ Maggie spoke for them all, laughing again. ‘It’s the perfect record of you.’
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
There was no chance of sleep for Maggie that night. She knew an outsider would have watched them all eating dinner and laughing at the tape and thought, What a happy family. Perhaps they were happier than some families. Perhaps every family had a sadness at its heart – disappointments, bereavements and estrangements. Perhaps moments of laughter like tonight were the glue, holding everyone steady against all the difficult times.
Maggie now knew more about her family than she had ever known. She had met up with Sadie again. She knew the truth about why she had left. She had read the diaries and knew more than she wanted to know about her grandmother. She knew that her mother, her aunts and her grandfather had been lying to her about Sadie for twenty years. It was this fact that was haunting her now. She wanted to know more. She needed to know more. And there was only one person she could talk to about it.
Her mother.
She realised as she sat up in bed, looking out the open window, that she couldn’t leave Donegal without having that conversation with Clementine. There might never be another opportunity like this. She didn’t want to wait any longer either. She was already caught in a new web of lies, about the diaries being stolen, about the woman in Dublin not being Sadie. She was caught between promises made to Sadie not to destroy her new life, and a need, deep inside, to tell her mother that she knew what had happened twenty years ago.
For the second time in three days she made her way down the corridor for a middle-of-the-night visit to Clementine’s bedroom. She gave a gentle knock at the door, then let herself in. Once again, the room was bright with moonlight, the curtains open. Clementine stirred.
‘Mum?’ Maggie whispered.
Clementine sat up, instantly awake. ‘Maggie? Is everything okay?’
‘No, it’s not.’
‘What is it, are you sick? Is it Leo?’
‘It’s me. I need to talk to you.’
‘What is it? About Gabriel? Oh, Maggie, of course you can, let me —’
‘It’s not about Gabriel. It’s about Sadie.’ She saw her mother go still and rushed ahead, before she lost courage. ‘I’m sorry to bring it up like this, without warning. And to wake you up. Can I get you a cup of tea or —’
Clementine was now fully awake. She reached across and turned on the bedside lamp. ‘No. No, I’m fine. Sit down. Talk to me.’
Maggie shut the door first, then came across and sat beside her mother on the bed. She hesitated for one moment only. ‘I know about Sadie. I know what happened when I was five. That she took me. I know she’s not a hippy.’
Clementine’s hand went to her throat. The exact gesture Sadie had made. ‘Who told you?’
‘Leo.’ Leo, not Tadpole. It was time to leave some more of her childhood behind. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Not just you, why didn’t anyone ever tell me?’
Clementine sat up straighter. Maggie had another moment of guilt, that she had caught her mother too unawares, waking her like this. But when would have been the right time? It had to be now. In the moment while her mother gathered her thoughts, her expression serious as she seemed to be weighing up what to say, Maggie had the odd sensation that Clementine looked different. Not physically. The short hair, the dark eyes, the pale skin was familiar and the same. It felt as though she was seeing Clementine as a woman, not just her mother, for the first time in her life.
Clementine smoothed the covers on her bed. ‘Can you tell me what Leo has already told you?’
Maggie was surprised by a flash of anger. ‘So you can lie about it again if you have to?’
Clementine remained calm. ‘No, so I don’t have to tell you what you’ve already heard.’
Maggie immediately felt guilty. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.’ She began to recount all that Leo had told her in New York about that time. Midway through she stopped, realising she had stepped out into a minefield. Yes, she could tell Clementine all Leo had told her, as long as she didn’t mention anything about the diaries or meeting Sadie. She recognised the irony of it. Even as she was fighting back anger at the lies she’d been told, she was lying by omission, to her own mother. For a moment she was tempted to tell her everything. But with what consequences? It would mean breaking her promise to Sadie. Putting Clementine into a difficult position, knowing something that neither her father or her sisters knew.
‘Go on, Maggie.’ Clementine’s voice was soft.
Maggie continued, picking and tiptoeing her way around all the things she couldn’t say.
Clementine was silent at first afterwards. She reached across and took Maggie’s hand, holding it between both of hers. ‘All he told you is true. I’m sorry, Maggie.’
‘That it happened or that you never told me the truth?’
‘Both.’
‘Why? Was it too hard to tell your daughter about something that split up her whole family?’
‘It was too hard at first, and then it got too easy to let the lie continue.’
‘You all let me write to her year after year —’
‘For what we thought were the right reasons, yes. To protect you, and to protect Sadie from gossip if she ever came back to us.’
Maggie’s temper was flickering and dying. Clementine had always talked about things in this calm, rational way. If it was Miranda she was talking to now, there would be fireworks and high drama. Juliet would be overly emotional and apologetic. Eliza would coldly lay out the facts. Gabriel’s words came to mind. She had indeed chosen the right sister to be her mother.
Clementine’s next words surprised her, though.
‘I wish Leo had checked with me first. He shouldn’t have told you out of the blue like that.’
‘Why
not?’
‘I’m your mother. He should have asked me first.’
‘I’m no one’s property. Even though everyone in this family seems to have a stake in me.’
‘Is that what you think?’
‘It’s true, isn’t it?’
‘Don’t we all have a stake in each other?’
‘I don’t know.’ Maggie stood up, out of reach of her mother; why, she wasn’t sure. She crossed her arms in front of her. ‘This has been a strange July Christmas.’
‘Hasn’t it? On again, off again. Over before we knew what had happened.’
‘Like my engagement.’ It was a bad attempt to lighten the mood.
Clementine’s expression changed. ‘Oh, Maggie. Tell me really, how are you feeling about it?’
Maggie was grateful for a change of subject, even if briefly. She also realised something. She could at least tell Clementine the truth about that. ‘Gabriel wasn’t really my fiancé. I only met him a few days ago.’ She explained how. ‘It was Leo’s idea, to bring you all over. To lure everyone here.’
Clementine was shocked. ‘And you went along with it?’
Maggie nodded.
‘Even though it was a lie? Why?’
‘Because Leo wanted it. Because it was important to him that we keep the family traditions going —’ She stopped, suddenly unsure of all the reasons why herself. ‘I wanted to make Leo happy.’
‘And was it all fake between you and Gabriel?’
‘Why?’
‘Because it didn’t seem to me like either of you were pretending.’
Maggie hesitated. ‘I liked him. Very much. Did you speak to his girlfriend?’
‘No, only Miranda. You didn’t know about her? You seemed genuinely shocked.’
‘I knew there was going to be a phone call from New York. I just didn’t know it was his girlfriend who would be ringing.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Clementine said again.
There wasn’t any more to say about it, Maggie realised. She was still several feet away from her mother. For a moment she was uncertain about the next step.
Clementine made the decision for her. ‘Maggie, please come and sit down again. I want to talk to you some more about Sadie. I need to talk to you.’
Maggie sat down beside her. She felt like they were in uncharted waters. She had never had a conversation like this with her mother. There had never been a reason to. There was now. There were so many questions. ‘I can’t understand why you all kept it secret for so long. Especially you. Didn’t you ever want to tell me?’
Clementine was quiet. ‘I couldn’t, Maggie. I felt too guilty about it.’
‘Why were you guilty? Sadie was the one who took me. You had nothing to be guilty about, except for reacting like any mother would. Leo told me you hit her. Is that what you mean?’
Clementine shook her head. ‘It was much more than that. I had everything to be guilty about, Maggie. I still do. It was all my fault. It’s my fault that the family has been apart all these years.’
‘No, it’s not. Sadie chose to stay away. That’s not your fault.’
‘It was my fault she went in the first place. None of this would have happened if it hadn’t been for me.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It happened because she was a better mother than me, Maggie. She was a much better mother to you than I ever was.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘It is true. She had more confidence; she had more patience. She managed everything so easily – all the cooking for you, washing your clothes. She played wonderful games with you. She took you on trips to the beach. She did that beautiful scrapbook for you. And I —’
Maggie waited.
‘I wasn’t good at it, Maggie. Not as good as her.’
‘You were only seventeen when you had me. Just a —’
‘It wasn’t my age. It was everything else. The constancy. The worry. The isolation, even though I was in a house full of people. I felt like I didn’t have any room in my head. I felt so guilty that I wanted to keep studying, but I couldn’t bear not to. I let Sadie take you over, Maggie. The harder parts of you. I let her come in and do all the work and look after you, while I got the cream at the end of the day – the hugs and the love and the beautiful sound of you calling me Mummy. I let it happen. And then I had the gall to be angry when she took you, when she wanted more of that for herself.’
‘That’s not why she took me.’
Clementine didn’t seem to have heard her. ‘Her leaving felt like my punishment, Maggie. I was being punished for taking you for granted. For taking Sadie for granted.’
‘You never took me for granted. I never felt that.’
‘I loved you so much, I promise. I’ve always loved you, but —’ Clementine stopped there.
‘You can tell me. I need to hear this.’
‘Maggie, it was so hard at times. Harder than I expected. I’d thought it would be a matter of doing my study and looking after you. But what happened was you filled my whole brain, every day. And that was a wonderful thing, but I needed room for other things too. I wanted to prove to myself – to Leo, to everyone – that I could manage. And I did. But the only reason I managed was because of Sadie. That’s why it’s all my fault. I accepted her help, let her look after you, but I still wasn’t happy about it. I was the one who drove her away.’
‘You didn’t drive her away.’
‘I did. I know I had something to do with it. Perhaps we all did. Miranda always picked on her. Juliet got exasperated by her. Eliza barely noticed her, or if she did, it was to get annoyed with her. We felt so guilty when she left, Maggie. We never admitted it openly to each other, but I know that’s how we felt. I’m sure we all still do.’
‘Did you go looking for her?’
‘I thought about it. Not at first, I was too upset, too angry. Too confused. As time passed, though, we all wrote to her, enclosed letters with your cards, asking her to come back. But she never answered us. She only ever wrote cards to you, saying nothing about us. It couldn’t have been clearer. She didn’t want anything to do with us or with Leo. Only with you. And that’s never changed. It makes me so sad. I think about her so often; she’s there in the back of my mind the whole time. I worry that wherever she is she’s unhappy or lonely, and that we should have done more to try and bring her back. Then I tell myself she’s doing what she wants. That she doesn’t want to be with us. And that ridiculous hippy story Miranda made up… it began to feel real, not just to me, but to all of us. That’s how we imagined her. Living in a commune with lots of friends – with a partner maybe. But none of us knew – know – the truth. That’s the hardest thing of all. All we can do is hope she’s happy, wherever she is.’
Maggie realised she could tell her. She could sit here now, in the moonlight, and tell her mother that Sadie was indeed happy. She was married to a man she loved. She had a beautiful daughter. A great business. Not only that, she was about to become a grandmother. There was so much she could tell, and yet she could tell her nothing.
It was happening again. Just free of one set of lies, she was bound up in new ones. As guilty of lying as the rest of her family. But she had promised Leo, and she had promised Sadie. Was a promise more important than telling the truth?
She chose her next words carefully. ‘Perhaps she is happy,’ she said. ‘Perhaps that’s why she hasn’t needed to come back to us. She’s made a whole other life. Maybe she’s got kids of her own, a husband —’
‘Do you think? I don’t know, Maggie. Sadie was always different. She was —’
‘What was she?’
‘An unsure person. A lost person.’
‘The runt of the family?’
‘That’s a horrible term. Please never think of her like that. She was just different.’
‘Perhaps that’s why she stayed away. She had to have a different life than the rest of you.’
‘Do you remember anything from that time? When the two
of you…’
Maggie shook her head. She nearly said, ‘Sadie asked me the same thing’. ‘It’s all jumbled together. When I think about my childhood, all I remember is being happy. People everywhere. Going on planes to stay with Miranda and Juliet and Eliza. Going on trips with you. Being happy.’
‘Really?’
‘Of course.’ Maggie realised then that her mother was crying. ‘Why does that make you sad?’
‘I’m not sad. I’m happy. I’m relieved. I was always so worried I hadn’t been good enough. After Sadie left. Even before then.’
‘Good enough at what?’
‘At being your mother.’
‘But you were a wonderful mother.’
‘Not always, Maggie. I should have been there more.’
‘More?’ Maggie reached for her mother’s hand, trying to console her, to lighten the mood. ‘I would have got sick of you if you’d been there the whole time.’
‘You didn’t ever resent me going away?’
Maggie hesitated. Perhaps it was time for more truth. ‘Sometimes, I did, of course. But then Tadpole would take me to the museum, or Miranda would take me to the theatre or something else great would happen to distract me. And you always came back. I always knew you would. I always felt like I had everything I needed. I still have everything.’
‘Not a father. Not Sadie.’
‘I have everything I need,’ Maggie repeated.
‘I’m sorry, Maggie. I’m sorry I wasn’t the one to tell you the truth about Sadie.’
‘It’s all right. I know now. I can talk about it with you now, can’t I?’
‘Any time you want to.’
‘And I’ll tell the others I know too. Not yet, but I will.’
‘I think they’ll be glad you know. I’m sure they’ll be glad.’
‘And you’re not a bad mother. You’re not. You’ve been the best mother and I’m going to say it as many times as you need to hear it.’
‘A hundred times?’ Clementine smiled.
‘A thousand times, if you like,’ Maggie said. She closed the gap between them. Her mother’s arms came around her too.
Those Faraday Girls Page 53
