On Bone Bridge

by Maria Hoey

  Rosemary nodded slowly. “I do now,” she said. “But what about you, Kay? Robbie asked you to come here so he must have told you something when he did that? I mean that’s why you’re here, isn’t it, because Robbie thinks something is wrong? But what does he think you can do, Kay? What did he tell you about Violet-May?”

  “He hasn’t told me anything about Violet-May,” I said. “At least, like you said yourself, he hasn’t said anything in so many words.”

  I read disbelief in Rosemary’s watching eyes.

  “It’s true, Rosemary. When Robbie first asked me here, as far as I was concerned it was because he didn’t like going away and leaving you on your own with the kids. He told me he didn’t think Violet-May would be much use when it came to the kids and he’d be happier if he knew I was here keeping an eye on things, looking out for you ...”

  “For me?”

  “For you and the kids. That was what he told me, I just wish he’d been straight with me and told me what he suspected was really going on. I suppose, like you said, he doesn’t really want to believe it himself.”

  “So he told you nothing about Violet-May at all?”

  “No, just that he was worried about you ...”

  “Me, he said he was worried about me? Why so?”

  “Well, because of all you’d had to deal with, you know, losing your husband and then your mother. He was worried you might be a little fragile.”

  “Fragile.”

  “Yes, I think that was the word he used. But of course I now know why he really wanted me to come here. Actually, I guessed almost at once that something was up, you all seemed so ... so pent up, like there was an enormous elephant in the room that everyone was trying desperately not to think about. And you all seemed so odd about Oliver ...”

  I fell silent as the enormity of what we were still not saying hit me all over again. Rosemary-June was staring at me intently. I leaned across the table and put my hand on hers once more. “Please don’t worry, Rosemary – the main thing is that we’re facing up to things now, not just to what’s happening now but to what really happened on the bridge that day. As soon as I read the diary I realised that the time for pretending is over. We were kids then but we’re adults now and we’ll do the right thing to keep your children safe.”

  “What diary?”

  “Oh right, I didn’t tell you. I used to keep a diary – actually it was one that Violet-May gave me for Christmas, that year before Alexander ... before Alexander died. I’d forgotten all about it, but then when all these things started happening – Oliver going missing, then almost getting run over, well, I don’t know, but it just came back to me. You see, I’d written about it in the diary, after what happened to Alexander. I couldn’t talk about it – let’s face it, nobody wanted us to talk about it. At least, I don’t know how it was for you, but I know my mother thought it should be put behind us, like it had never happened. She meant it for the best, I know she did, but you can’t just turn your thoughts off, can you?”

  Rosemary shook her head.

  “And you can’t just unhear what you’ve heard either,” I said, “but I wasn’t allowed to talk about it.”

  “So you wrote about it instead,” said Rosemary. “And you’ve still got the diary, after all this time?”

  “I didn’t know I still had it. I used to hide it, you see, because I was afraid my mother would find it and read it. She worried about me – you know, after what happened. I think she thought I wasn’t getting over it or something, and so I used to hide my diary in an air vent in my bedroom. I only just remembered about it and so I went to see if it was still there. And unbelievably it was.”

  “After all those years! Incredible! And had you written down everything that happened?”

  “Well, they were only brief little entries – and, remember, I wasn’t on the bridge when – when it happened. But I did hear some things. Only somehow I’d forgotten.” I ran my hands through my hair in my frustration at myself. “Jesus, Rosemary, how the hell could I have forgotten?”

  “Perhaps you wanted to forget,” said Rosemary quietly.

  “Yes, maybe I did – and, because I wanted to so badly, somehow found a way to do it.”

  “But now you think you were wrong?”

  I reached out again and touched her hand. “I was wrong. We were both wrong – wrong to lie and wrong to cover up and wrong to think that we could ever pretend that what had happened did not. And now we have to do something about that, Rosemary. Because it’s clear that Violet-May needs help. She’s sick, I mean really, really sick, because how else can you explain it?”

  Rosemary-June gently withdrew her hand and I was reminded that, in spite of everything, it was her sister I was talking about.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “This must be a nightmare for you and the last thing I want to do is add to your distress.”

  She pushed back her chair and got up and walked to the window. “No, it’s alright. I know that what you’re saying is only the truth. The lies do have to stop.”

  She turned to face me again and I saw with surprise that she was actually smiling once more.

  “Robbie was right to bring you here,” she said. “And I can see why he did now. It’s because you have something none of us have, not me, not Violet-May, not even Robbie. You have common sense, Kay.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” I said a little bleakly. “If I really had any sense I’d have acted on my uneasiness long before now. But the main thing is that we do act now.”

  “But what are we supposed to do? If Robbie were here but he’s not … I wouldn’t be comfortable making any big decisions without him knowing what’s going on. It wouldn’t feel right.”

  “Alright, but he’ll be back soon – the day after tomorrow isn’t it? And in spite of what you say, Rosemary, I think he needs to know what’s going on.”

  “And we’ll tell him,” said Rosemary. “As soon as he gets back we’ll tell him. But this isn’t something that can be talked about on the phone, Kay, don’t you agree?”

  “Fine,” I said. But I was thinking about the promise I had made to Robbie and, although I didn’t argue any further, I knew in my own mind that if I did manage to contact her brother I would have to say something. “But in the meantime we must make sure never to take our eyes off Oliver for a second. And it goes without saying that we need to watch Violet-May like hawks. And I think we should –”

  I stopped short at a sound from the hallway then the door swung open and Violet-May sashayed in. She was wearing a floor-length silk dressing gown the colour of cherries which was hanging open to show a matching baby-doll nightie which barely reached mid-thigh. It was impossible not to notice her nipples poking through the silk. I noticed too that she was barefoot and I wondered just when she had approached the door, if she had been standing outside and just how much if any of our conversation she had overheard. But, if she had been listening, she had certainly chosen the right profession because her face showed no trace of anything amiss.

  “What are the long faces for?” she said. “Anyone want a coffee?”

  “It’s a bit too late for me,” said Rosemary.

  “And me, thanks,” I said. “I was just going up to my room.”

  I flashed a questioning look at Rosemary who came and picked up her mobile phone from the table. “You’d better give me your mobile number then, Kay,” she said. “So I can text you the number for that hair salon.”

  “Oh right,” I said and I called out the digits and Rosemary tapped them in.

  “Got it. I’ll text you that as soon as I find their card.”

  I muttered my thanks and then I left them without another word and hurried off to my room.

  Before I went to bed that night I decided to try Robbie one more time. This time it went to voicemail and I left him a message.

  “Hi, Robbie, it’s Kay. I’ve been trying to reach you.” I hesitated, wondering what exactly I should say. Rosemary was right – what co
uld he do from where he was? And what was the point of worrying him, when he’d be home soon and would know all there was to know? But he had made me promise to tell him if anything, anything at all made me feel uneasy.

  “Look, don’t worry,” I continued. “Everyone is safe. I mean fine, everyone is fine. We just need to talk, that’s all. The thing is, you asked me if there was something I hadn’t told you, and well, there was. So, like I say, we really do need to talk, you and me and Rosemary. OK – well, bye then, Robbie. Bye.”

  I hung up feeling I had said nothing of any sense and that I had no way of knowing when he would get my message but, even so, I somehow felt better.

  Chapter 29

  I slept badly and woke later than usual with a tension headache and sense of impending unpleasantness hanging over the day like a storm cloud. There was still no word from Robbie and I decided there was no point in trying to call him again – he would get my message and call me as soon as he could. In the meantime, I knew that there was no point in even attempting to write. I do remember thinking, however, that were I to put down on paper what was actually happening in real life just then I would most likely be accused of being unrealistic. In any event, until I spoke to Rosemary again I could not settle down to fiction. Instead I reread the exchange of texts which had taken place between us shortly after our conversation in the kitchen the previous evening.

  Rosemary: Meet this pm away from house 4 obvious reasons.

  Me: OK. Where? Somewhere kids can play but quiet.

  Rosemary: Town park? U leave first. Pick u up along old road 2.30

  She was right of course to suggest meeting away from the house and my setting off first on foot meant there was no risk of Violet-May seeing us together. I wondered again if she had overheard anything of consequence the previous evening. She did not put in an appearance that morning at all but then again, neither did Rosemary, and once again it was left to Grace and me to dress and feed the two children. I felt bad now about the thoughts I had been entertaining about Grace, and I was extra nice to her that morning. It was a beautiful sunny morning and while Grace got on with her housework I made the most of it by taking the children out into the garden. At some point I found myself agreeing to a teddy bear’s picnic – Caroline’s idea – but the very last thing I had the heart for that day. I did my best however to enter into the spirit of the thing, helping Caroline position her collection of bears and set out her little bright plastic cups and saucers and pots and things along with two small wooden chairs for the children to sit on. We enlisted the help of Grace who supplied us with miniature banana sandwiches and fromage frais and even came out to join us for half an hour. I remember at one point, as Caroline was pouring juice from her little teapot, her face almost fierce with concentration, I glanced at Oliver who was sitting next to me nibbling on the inevitable raisins while simultaneously waving his sippy cup in the air, and I wished with all my heart that things could be other than they were. I wondered too what sort of sick heart would feel the urge to harm this beautiful little person, or could do what had been done to poor little Alexander? Only a sick person, I told myself, because otherwise that would make them a monster. A wave of anger mixed with sadness overcame me. I was close to tears, a combination, I imagine, of a bad night’s sleep and what I knew was ahead no doubt, but in any event I made an excuse to go back to the house and made my way to my room for a few minutes of silence.

  After I had pulled myself together I went into the bathroom to freshen up. While I was drying my hands, I thought I heard a noise in the bedroom.

  “Hi!” I called out. “Is there someone there? Hang on, I’m just coming!”

  I opened the bathroom door. As I did so I heard the door to the bedroom click shut. Assuming that whoever it was had been looking for me and had not heard me call out, I hurried to the door, opened it and stuck my head around. The corridor was empty. I closed the door again, shaking my head. Then I noticed the drawers of the dressing table. Two of them had been pulled out and I was absolutely certain that I had not left them that way. I went across and inspected the two opened drawers. In the top drawer there was nothing but a couple of jumpers and my hair dryer but in the second drawer where I had put my underwear and socks, my things looked pulled about. But who would have done it and why?

  I dressed quickly and went downstairs and outside once more.

  “You weren’t in my room just now, looking for me, were you, Grace?” I asked.

  “In your room?” Grace looked up and I read genuine surprise in her face. “No, I’ve been here with these two, why?”

  “No matter,” I said. “I just thought I heard somebody while I was in the shower, that’s all, I must have imagined it.”

  But I knew I had not imagined the open drawer or the click of the door as it shut to. Somebody had been in my room going through my things.

  I set off on foot just after ten past two that afternoon. There had been a lot of changes to the town in the time I had been away but Old Road seemed to me just as it had always been, almost as though there time had stood still. Granted the traffic was not quite as light as it had been when I was a child but it was still a relatively quiet road, as narrow as it had ever been and lined on both sides with hedges white with cow parsley. I knew I had left the house much too early but the incident in my room had spooked me and I wanted to get away well in advance of Rosemary. As a result I had to dawdle about on the roadside killing time for a good twenty minutes. I remember being surprised at how the weather had deteriorated. A wind, chilly for September, had started up and the sky was beginning to cloud over and I was glad I had brought along a little jacket. Finally Rosemary’s car came along and as I climbed in next to her I glanced into the back and was surprised to see two empty child seats.

  “You haven’t got the kids with you?” I said.

  “No, I thought we could better talk without them around.”

  “But who’s looking after them?” I said anxiously. “You haven’t left them with ...?”

  “No, I haven’t,” said Rosemary curtly. “Violet-May is picking some friends up from the airport this afternoon and driving them to their hotel in Ballsbridge. She was busy getting dolled up when I left. I left them with Grace with strict instructions not to let them out of her sight for a second.”

  “I suppose that’s alright then,” I said, although I was actually thinking that under the circumstances if they were my children I’d have taken them with me. But I wish we’d known that Violet-May was going out. “We could have just stayed and talked at the house then. But never mind, the children will be safe with Grace.”

  “Yes, good old Grace O’Dreary,” said Rosemary and I turned and stared at her in reproach.

  “Oh, but she’s so kind,” I said. “And she’s wonderful with the children.” Not to mention the fact that she’s actually your sister, I was thinking. All these secrets, all these pointless secrets.

  “So have you spoken to Robbie?” said Rosemary as though she had not heard me.

  “No, no, I didn’t.” It was not, I told myself, really a lie. Technically I had not spoken to Robbie and as Rosemary seemed to have a bee in her bonnet about worrying him while he was away, I saw no point in mentioning that I had left him a voicemail. She was already clearly tense and on edge, so there was no point in making her worse.

  “So, where do you want to go to talk then?” I said. “Now that the kids are not with us, we could just park and talk in the car, or would you like to go somewhere quiet for a cup of coffee maybe?”

  Rosemary glanced at me. “Oh, I don’t think so,” she said. “Let’s just stick to the original plan and go to the park – that way there’s no chance of being overheard and besides I could do with some fresh air.”

  “Yes, of course,” I said. “The park will be perfect. If it doesn’t rain.”

  “Speaking of being overheard,” said Rosemary, “that diary that you told me about, I hope you’ve put it somewhere safe?”

  “I pushed it
down between the headboard and the mattress,” I said. “You think Violet-May overheard us talking, and will try to find it?”

  And then I remembered the sounds I had heard from my bathroom, the open drawer and the door closing as I stepped back in from the bathroom.

  “What?” said Rosemary.

  “Nothing,” I said. “I was just thinking about what you said. If she heard us, she heard us and there’s no point in worrying about it.” There was no point in worrying her either, I had decided.

  “I suppose not,” said Rosemary.

  She drove in silence for a while until a song came on the radio which she must have liked because she turned up the volume and began to hum along and I remember finding it a little disconcerting just as I had as I listened to her laughing at The Vicar of Dibley the day Oliver ran out in front of my car. But then I reminded myself that this was Rosemary, that hers was an essentially sunny personality and no doubt she believed we would find a way through this awful mess. The thought comforted me and I relaxed a little as a result.

  We parked and walked the short distance to the big gates. I looked up at the sky and saw that the rain was now definitely on its way. I glanced at Rosemary and thought about once more suggesting a café instead of a walk but she seemed oblivious to the weather and was setting a brisk pace across the grass toward the river which bounded the park on one side. There was a pathway running alongside the riverbank from one end of the park to the other and it was for this that Rosemary made. It was certainly a pleasant place to walk and, aside from the occasional runner or those busy walking dogs or children, we had it to ourselves. The change in the weather had presumably sent people hurrying for their cars.