When he made to move towards her, she sidestepped him, turning at the kitchen door to finally meet his eyes. ‘I’m calling Daniel down and I don’t want him to know any of this. I don’t know what kind of tangle you’ve gotten yourself into but you can’t just bury what you know – from the guards, from that woman. Surely she deserves better than that. And surely Tom, after all these years, so do I.’ She turned sharply from him, called up the stairs to the child.
Tom leaned back against the cabin now. Ella, Ella, Ella. God, the disappointment in her eyes when she’d looked at him this morning. She hadn’t spoken another word to him at breakfast and who could blame her? What the hell kind of mess had he gotten himself into? And all for what? Sean Delaney. It was a terrible end for the young lad, but at least he’d have peace now – something that Sean hadn’t had in years. He folded an arm across his chest, his fingers drumming his chin as he shook out the nets with the toe of his boot. Peace. What he wouldn’t give for a bit of peace, to have all this stuff out of his head and gone. Gone! Ella was right. Of course she was right – the girl should know, she should be told. But how in the name of God was he going to go about it! How was he going to put her through all that for a second time? How was he going to look into that trusting face and tell her that all the time he had listened to the story of her loss he had known that Sean was alive and well and living in his very own house?
He rubbed a hand over his eyes. Sean was gone now. Definitely gone. It was over. Surely that should be an end to it. The guards were no fools. And there were plenty around here more than well able to talk. It would only be a matter of time before Sean was identified and then it would be the guards’ job to tell Alison, not his. She need never know of his involvement – wasn’t the end all that really mattered anyway? And if he apologised to Ella, did his best to make it up to her, surely the whole thing need never be raised again.
‘Dad, are we goin’ out?’ Daniel raced down the quay and climbed the ladder down to the boat like a monkey. Ella turned without speaking and walked briskly towards home.
* * *
Leaning on the sink, Alison gazed out at a watery sun half-heartedly shining on the sea beyond. She arched her aching neck, tensed and released her shoulder muscles. She hadn’t had more than a few hours’ sleep since all this Sean business had broken. And William . . . the doctor had been again yesterday, adjusted his medication. It would be another twenty-four hours at least before he would feel the benefits – if there were any. All of this had been a terrible strain on him, he could well have done without it. Why couldn’t Kathleen have waited to drop her bombshell until after he was . . . ? She tried to blank out the thought of his going, and yet she knew she must face it. Dr Clarke had hinted yesterday, as subtly as he could, that time was getting short and that she needed to prepare herself. He had gone to the trouble of arranging a home help to come in for a few hours each day to give her a break. She knew he was just looking out for her, probably saw the strain of all that was going on screaming out of her and put it down to the weight of caring for William. And while she really did appreciate his kindness, a part of her resented what she saw as yet another intrusion. She didn’t want a break, she wanted to spend every last waking minute they had together. Waking minute. William slept so much these days, his body slowly accustoming itself to that final eternal sleep. But she had, at William’s insistence, accepted the offer. She had to get on with life, he had reminded her, prepare for Hannah’s return, visit with Maryanne, look to her own future.
She rubbed an index finger along her wet cheek. Please let him stay to meet Hannah, she prayed. She wanted Hannah to know him, to know his goodness, his wisdom, to know that there are such people in the world and never to settle for less. She wanted her girl to understand just how much she had loved him.
Alison spun around, jerked from her thoughts. She hadn’t heard Joe come in through the back door and the sight of him filled her heart with pity. He stood in the open doorway, shoulders stooped forward, his face red and blotched by tears, his eyes wide with childlike sorrow, searching hers. She stepped towards him and folded him in her arms. ‘Oh, it’s all right, Joe, hush now, hush.’ He clung to her, fresh sobs heaving his frame. Some stupid fool in the village must have taunted him, she guessed, remembering other times when he would come to Sean, convulsed by the sting of some idiot’s tongue. ‘Come on,’ she took his hand and led him to a chair, ‘sit here and I’ll make us some tea. We’ll have a chat, like the old days, yeah? And maybe later you could help me in the garden.’
They worked side by side in their own silent worlds, Alison only stopping to check on a sleeping William. Within half an hour they had dug a new patch of garden along the bottom of the stone ditch beyond the kitchen window. The smell and the feel of the fresh earth in her hands comforted Alison, its heavy warm texture seeming to soak the loneliness from her.
Just after midday she walked Joe to the mouth of the drive. ‘Will you come another day, Joe, and we could sort out that shed? There are things of Sean’s there that I know he’d like you to have.’ She stood a moment watching him disappear down over the hill. Poor Joe. What or who, she wondered, had hurt him so deeply? He had hardly spoken a word to her as he bent over the spade in the garden, seeming almost to fold his sadness into the newly turned soil. But she knew that just as he had done with Sean, Joe would tell her what had happened in his own good time. The midday sun now warm on her shoulders, she turned to stroll back up the driveway. A half-smile played on her lips. Joe had come to her. After all the times she had railed against him, all the times she had lost her patience with him, putting her own frustrations above his pain, Joe had still trusted her enough to seek her safety. She knew he didn’t trust lightly, knew he had learned long and hard not to. And she felt his trust strengthening her now, somehow easing the dread of what she knew lay ahead of her.
She stopped and leaned her arms on the weathered railing, gazed out over the sea. Coming back or not, she knew now that Sean no longer had a part in her life. If it were true, if he had been out there somewhere all this time – no matter what William said about him maybe thinking it was an act of kindness – to do what he had done to herself and Hannah, to walk away and leave them so broken, that she knew he could never repair. If only he had told her, if only he had come clean about the affair – she had loved him so much back then she knew she would have found a way of understanding, of forgiving. But not now. Not after all those years of so cruelly destroying her. Whatever love she had felt for him once was gone. And so was the woman he had left behind. And in an odd way she had something to thank him for. All the destruction Sean had left in his wake had eventually provided a clearing, a space where she could begin to grow again. All the pain she had experienced had been part of her transformation, part of her self-realisation. When she looked back now at the woman she had been in those years before his disappearance – how she had given away her power, her heart, her whole sense of herself to try to please someone else, to try to fix someone else’s brokenness – she could see the utter futility of it. It was a mistake she would never repeat. From here on, she would please herself, be true to herself, live for herself.
Since Kathleen had told her about that phone call, about Joe and the cap – since the seed had been planted that Sean might well be alive – she had felt something, slowly, ever so slowly, shift inside her.
Yes, what Kathleen had done was wrong. It was so wrong as to be almost unforgiveable. Almost. She tried again now to imagine what it must have been like for Kathleen: carrying her terrible secret, the weight of her guilt as she witnessed Alison’s grief and all that time struggling to make a decent life for herself and Jamie – which, despite everything, she had managed single-handedly to do. Alison had always admired, even envied Kathleen for that. Envied her strength, her independence, her optimism, how she’d always manage to plough through whatever obstacle was put in her way, always clutching tight to the hope, to the knowledge that one day she would get where she wanted
to be. And finally, with Rob, she had got there. Only to have it all tarnished again by the past. By Sean Delaney.
Sean Delaney: whether dead or alive, he had managed – was still managing – to control and manipulate their lives. She felt the hot burn of anger spread like a stain in the centre of her chest. Perhaps William had been right. Perhaps she had been directing all her anger and blame at Kathleen because, like William said, she was there, in flesh and blood, she was convenient. But maybe she was a convenient target in another way, too. Maybe, by blaming Kathleen, she didn’t have to face up to the cold fact that Sean had betrayed her, had made a lie of their love, their lives together – the cold fact that he had left her by choice and not through some random, tragic accident.
She eased herself from the railing, continued her slow stroll up the driveway. With all that had been going on in the last few weeks she hadn’t allowed herself – had perhaps been too angry to allow herself – to acknowledge how painfully she missed Kathleen: missed her friendship, her warmth, the support she had come to depend on so much. No matter what, Kathleen had always been there for her in every possible way. Without her friendship, Alison could never have survived those first raw months, those first years, after Sean. She saw that now – now that she was without her. Kathleen had been her lifeline. And surely that should counter her anger, her hurt – in at least some small way, in time? Sighing, she stepped up to the front door, reached for the handle.
Did she really want to end up – having come this far, this painfully – with a heart full of bitterness and resentment? Did she really want to allow Sean Delaney to continue to dictate her life? That’s what it would amount to, she knew that. She had almost tasted freedom, had got within inches of knowing what it was like to be captain of her own life, and she wanted it. She would settle for nothing less. Holding onto anger and resentment would be like fastening a whole new set of chains around her heart and she wasn’t going to allow that to happen. She was in control now and it was going to stay that way. It was her life, her call. She, not Kathleen or Sean or the past, would decide how her life would move from here on and learning to forgive, she knew, would be a first and vital step. Of course it wasn’t going to happen overnight, she wasn’t foolish enough to think that, she reminded herself, stepping back inside the hall door, but just deciding, just being willing to think about it, to consider it, was enough for now. The rest, she knew, would follow.
William lay in the same deep sleep, his body covered by a single white sheet. The hum of the electric fan at his feet sung to the silence that filled the room.
‘I’ve started a new garden.’ She sat beside him, took his hand and pressed it to her lips. ‘Joe helped me. We’re pals again,’ she smiled, stroking her hand along the curve of his brow, his cheek, his chin. ‘I had an email from Hannah. She’s so excited about coming home. Hard to believe it’s the same girl who couldn’t wait to get out of the place a few months ago. I can’t wait for you to meet her, Will. I know you two will get on.’
He lay there with no sign of hearing her, of being aware of her presence. She sat on for a long while in silence, just looking at him, watching the slight rise of the sheet over his chest with each shallow breath. ‘But you don’t have to hold on, Will. For me, for Hannah. Whenever you’re ready, you just go.’ She kissed his cheek. The words came, low and sad, pouring in a whisper from her lips – that beautiful song her father had so often sang to her as a child when she was afraid of the thunder or some dark presence she imagined loomed in the wardrobe or under the bed:
Angels are keeping you safe in your bed
White winged angels over your head . . .
The fading light through the window fell on her bowed head. Curled on the rocking chair beside the bed, her hand in his, Alison read to him from her book. When darkness fell, she placed lighted candles along the open-curtained windowsill. Through the night, chapter by chapter, she read to him from her pages.
‘It’s our story, William. A story of opening to love and to loss. To truth. But more than anything, Will, it’s a story of love. True love. Love that doesn’t end. Our love.’
She felt the gentle pressure of his hand squeezing hers and her tears began their slow, hot meander down her cheeks.
‘I knew you’d like it,’ she whispered, swallowing back the lump of loss swelling in her throat. ‘I love you, William Hayden. More than I ever knew I could love.’
His eyes flickered and were open, filled with an indescribable brightness and light. He looked at her, into her. A smile lit and lifted his whole face, washing away all the traces of pain and suffering, returning to her the William she had met that very first morning.
* * *
Although she had hardly slept and was just about falling on her feet, Alison had to get out. She needed to be alone. Away where she could close her eyes, listen to the silence and let reality settle into her. Susan, the home-help organised by Dr Clarke, was sitting with William. The woman had been a godsend, she knew now, holding the door open as the two dogs bounded into the back of the jeep, glad of some sign of normality.
The sun bouncing off the windscreen pained her eyes. This must be one of the brightest days of the whole summer, she smiled sadly to herself. It was as if the sky and the sun, the very heavens themselves, were putting on their best, preparing for William’s arrival. She parked at the bottom of the track to Tra na Leon. She needed to walk, needed to feel the ground beneath her, let the salty breeze wash over her. Her feet felt heavy as she trudged the steep path. She stopped halfway and gazed out beyond the beach, out over the still water, its calmness entering her like a deep peace.
Life would go on. No matter how devastating the circumstances, life would always go on. That she had learned. And so too would William. She loved him so completely and he had returned that love. And that was life. That was the essence, not how long it lasted. In her heart William, their love, would live forever. And she could feel him now, all around her. Could see him in the kiss of the surf at the feet of the rocks below; in the deepest yellows of the wild gorse; his eyes smiling and winking in the myriad silver lights dancing the ocean’s back.
* * *
‘Damn,’ Tom cursed, righting the gear stick and inching forward into the tight parking space. He still wasn’t used to the rental the garage had loaned him while his insurance claim was being processed – and that didn’t look like it was going to be any time soon. Still, at least he had something to get around in, he sighed, slipping off his seat belt. He clasped a hand to the back of his neck, stretched it backwards, the months of broken sleep beginning to tell on him.
He had decided to break the journey in Galway, stay there overnight. He was looking forward to the time alone, with no one asking questions about the break-in, the car, if there was any word from the guards. And then the few cute ones who casually dropped his ex-lodger and his whereabouts into the conversation. Oh, they knew the story all right, not much would pass them by.
He had told Ella he was going to Wexford to look at a boat, but she hadn’t even made a reply, had barely looked in his direction when he’d left the house after breakfast. Never, through their seven years together, had there ever been as much as a hint of a secret between them and Tom felt a sharp stab of guilt each and every time he sidestepped her questions. Day after day the tension in the house had grown like a stone wall between them. Much as he’d wanted to, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell her the full story about Sean, knowing too well that his part in it would change her love for him forever. He had told her that Sean was separated, that he had asked him to buy the fishing gear from his ex-wife on his behalf, tried to make it seem simple, straightforward. ‘So he paid out good money for his own gear and then handed it over to you, for nothing?’ The tone of Ella’s voice had cut through him. Who did he think he was fooling? He was never any good at lies, never one for secrecy. She had asked him, calmly, to go to the guards, and for the first-ever time since they’d met he had raised his voice to her, told her
to give him a bit of room to breathe. She had given him that, and more, and it was clear from her silence thereafter that Ella had had her fill of his secrecy, his moods. He knew it wouldn’t take a whole lot more to break them.
Last night, in the small hours, he had finally made up his mind. He would travel down to see Alison and tell her the truth about Sean. The girl deserved to know the real story, the whole of it. It didn’t matter what course she’d decide to take when she learned what Tom’s role had been in the whole affair. What mattered was that she knew about Sean’s genuine love and remorse. And his death. Whatever would follow would follow. Tom needed a peace restored to his life and he knew he could never have that until Alison was told the full story.
Nineteen
Kathleen waved the boys off, closed the front door and leaned back against it, her whole body joining in her smile. She pictured Rob’s face again at the breakfast table, the way his jaw had literally dropped as if its hinge had suddenly snapped. No quick, silly quip, no stupid impersonation – her Rob stuck for words? It had to be a first.
‘Dad?’ Jamie had addressed him between spoonfuls of cereal, letting the word drop as naturally as if it had ripened for that very moment. ‘Do you think we’d have room for a basketball net at the new house?’
Kathleen’s hands had frozen in mid-air at the sink, her head turning as if in slow motion. Jamie hadn’t even lifted his head, just filled his mouth and dug the spoon back into his bowl. ‘If I want to make the school team next year,’ he continued after he’d swallowed, ‘I’ll need to get in some practice.’
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