I’m going to return to New York now, to the mess Matt is currently making of his life.
At this stage, I feel I can categorically say it’s all going horribly wrong. The question is, can Matt make it right . . . ?
37
Charley had moved into Matt’s bedroom the night they’d agreed to give their relationship a shot. She had, however, vetoed any form of physical contact due to her pregnant state. Matt had been relieved at this—at least it had provided him with a stay of execution. As he couldn’t remember the last time they’d made love due to his drunkenness, his mind could only flit back to when they’d previously been an item. He remembered their couplings as uninspiring and, for him, mechanical. Unlike the exquisite lovemaking he’d experienced with Grania, when he’d literally felt as if their souls were joined . . .
Matt checked himself from that train of thought, climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom to take a shower, thinking that Charley’s new status had other, annoying, consequences. For a start, her vast array of cosmetics—lotions and potions that could stock a beauty counter at Saks cluttering up the sink and shelves. Grania’s low-maintenance beauty regime—a pot of face cream had been her nod to it—not to mention that his clothes now inhabited an eighth of the wardrobe due to Charley’s vast array of designer garments, only underlined the differences between the two women.
As Matt searched out his razor, managing to knock a makeup bag into the sink at the same time, he tried to stem his irritation. He was the one, after all, who had said they should give it a try. Charley had not pressured him or even made him feel guilty. He mustn’t blame her.
However, she had already made noises about moving—suggested buying a house in Greenwich near to their parents. Matt was not enthusiastic about the idea. Yet, the fact that he and Grania—faced with similar issues only a few months ago—hadn’t given a thought to moving out of the city, didn’t make Charley’s wish to have her child breathe fresher air abnormal. When Matt had mentioned there was no way he had the money to provide that kind of home for them, Charley had dismissed his objections with a flick of her wrist.
“Mom and Dad will help us, Matty. You know they will.”
Matt understood a little of what Grania must have felt when his own parents had offered to provide some help. He didn’t want Charley’s folks to give him anything. Charley had also turned to him the other night and asked him whether he really was set against going into his dad’s business.
“I’m gonna have to stop work when this one comes along, even if only for a few months. And maybe”—Charley had shrugged—“forever. I hate to say it, Matty, but what you earn will just about buy us a Filipino maid three times a week, not the kind of live-in support I’m gonna need.”
Matt dressed swiftly, glad that Charley had taken herself off to her apartment uptown to pay the final check to her interior designer. She’d taken Matt to see it last week, and Matt had goggled at the über-chic interior. Full of glass, chrome and white, its starkness was as welcoming as an operating theater. Matt wondered how Charley could bear to slum it here with him in the loft. He fixed himself a coffee and found an out-of-date bagel in the fridge. Charley was no cook—they’d eaten take-out solidly in the past two weeks—and Matt felt his juices flowing as he remembered the delicious ham and colcannon Grania had cooked for him regularly.
“Shit!” Matt checked himself. He could not continue comparing the two women. They were different, that was all. The real problem was that, to him, Charley measured up unfavorably every time. Matt sat himself down at his desk and switched on his laptop. He was writing a paper that should have been finished three weeks ago—what with everything going on, his concentration was all over the place. He read through what he had written and knew it wasn’t up to scratch. He sat back in his chair and sighed. He could see very clearly where his life was heading. After all the years of avoiding an existence similar to his parents, he was already on his way toward it. He wished he had somebody to talk to . . . he was desperate. And the only person available to him since Grania was gone was his mom.
He grabbed his cell phone and pressed her home number. “Mom? It’s Matt here.”
“Matt, it’s a pleasure to hear from you. How are you?”
“Look, Mom, I was thinking I could do with a few hours out of the city. You got a busy weekend?”
“We have some friends over for a barbecue tomorrow, but today your father’s playing golf and I’m here alone. Want to stop by and have some lunch?”
“You’re on, Mom. I’ll leave now.”
The West Side Highway was clear and Matt arrived in his parents’ Belle Haven drive within forty-five minutes.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Elaine was on the doorstep to greet him with a warm hug. “What a lovely surprise. Not often I get my boy to myself any more. Come in.”
Matt followed his mom through the spacious entrance hall and into the large kitchen, stuffed with every conceivable appliance. His father, Bob, loved gadgets. He bought them for his wife every Christmas and birthday. Elaine would open them with a resigned smile, say thank you, then hide them away with the rest in one of the capacious kitchen units.
“Can I fix you a drink, sweetie?”
“A beer will do just fine.” Matt stood uncertainly in the kitchen; now he was here, he wasn’t sure what to say. His mom knew Grania was gone, but nothing more.
“So how’s life in the city?”
“I . . . shit, Mom!” Matt shook his head. “I’m not gonna lie to you, I’m in a real mess.”
“Well, then.” Elaine put the beer in front of her son, her eyes full of motherly sympathy. “You tell your mom all about it.”
Matt did so, and was as honest as he could be about the situation, though he avoided mentioning the fact he couldn’t even remember the night in question. He didn’t think Elaine’s sensibilities would cope.
“So,” Elaine recounted, “let me catch up. Grania disappears soon after she arrives home from the hospital. She takes off to Ireland and won’t tell you what it is you’ve done. There’s silence between you for months. And then you hear she’s married to someone else?”
“Yup, that’s the bare bones of it,” Matt agreed with a sigh.
“Next, Charley moves into your apartment to keep you company, while hers is under renovation. You two become close and start a relationship.” Elaine scratched her head. “And what you’re saying is you’re not sure of your feelings for her?”
“Yes,” agreed Matt. “Can I have another beer?”
Elaine went to fetch it for him. “So, you think you might be on the rebound?”
“Yup. And,” Matt took a deep breath, “there’s something else.”
“You’d better fess up, honey.”
“Charley’s pregnant.”
Elaine gave him an odd look before she said, “Really? You sure?”
“Of course I’m sure, Mom. She’s booked in for a scan in a couple of weeks’ time. I’m going with her.”
“OK,” Elaine said slowly. “I’ve prepared a salad for lunch. Let’s go eat it on the terrace.”
Matt helped transfer the salad, plates and cutlery outside. As they sat down, Matt could see his mother was shaken.
“I’m real sorry, Mom.”
“Don’t be, Matt. I’m a big girl, I can take it. It’s not that, it’s just . . .” something that doesn’t make sense. She frowned, “But let’s put that to one side. The question is, do you love Charley?”
“Yes, I love her as a friend, maybe as a partner . . . I don’t know yet, Mom, I really don’t. I mean, sure, we grew up in the same place, know the same people . . . you’re friendly with her folks . . . what’s not to like? It’s easy,” he sighed.
“Marrying someone in the same world as you is always easier. Of course it is, Matt. It’s what I did.” Elaine smiled as she served the salad. “It’s comfortable, and familiarity can breed love. But it’s not”—Elaine searched for the right word—“exhilarating. It’s a ‘safe’ ride.”
Matt was surprised at his mother’s empathy. “Yeah, spot on, Mom.”
“Don’t think I don’t understand, Matt, because I do. Grania was your walk on the wild side and I admired you for breaking out. She was your passion. She brought the world alive for you.”
“Yep, she did.” Matt swallowed hard. He knew he was close to tears. “And it’s only since she’s been gone that I realize how much I loved her . . . do love her.”
“I loved someone once . . . before your father. My parents didn’t think he was suitable—he was a musician. I broke it off, sent him away . . .”
“I didn’t know.” Matt was taken aback by his mom’s revelation. “Do you regret it?”
“What’s the point of regrets?” Elaine asked bitterly. “I did what I thought was the right thing to keep everyone happy. But there’s never a day goes by when I don’t think of him, wonder where he is . . .” Her voice trailed off, then she checked herself. “Sorry, Matt, this isn’t for you to hear. And your pop and I have always had a good life together. And I got you. So, no, I don’t regret anything.”
“The difference is, I didn’t send Grania away.”
“No. And now she’s married,” said Elaine.
“That’s what her mom said when I called her up.”
“Well, I’m real surprised at that. I know she felt uncomfortable in our world, Matt, probably thought we didn’t like her. But I have such respect for her and her talent. And,” Elaine underlined, “I knew she loved my boy. For that, I could forgive her anything.”
“Well, Mom, Grania’s gone. And she’s not coming back anytime soon. I gotta get on with my life. The question is, do I continue to try and make a go of it with Charley?”
“It’s a tough call. Charley’s beautiful, bright and from your world. And, besides, it’s complicated by the baby. You are sure she’s pregnant?” Elaine asked again.
“Yes, Mom!”
“Well,” Elaine sighed, “looks like you’ve got yourself a done deal. And I know you were heartbroken over losing the child with Grania. Although I . . .”
“What, Mom?”
“Nothing, nothing,” Elaine answered quickly. “If everything is as you say, I don’t think you have much choice.”
“No,” Matt agreed morosely, “seems like I don’t. And I gotta pay for the lifestyle. She’s already mentioned me going into Dad’s business. An uptown girl like Charley won’t be satisfied with a psychology lecturer’s income.”
“You know it’s your father’s dream for you to take over. But, Matt, if it’s not what you want—”
“Mom, nothing is what I ‘want’ just now.” Matt put his knife and fork together and looked at his watch. “I’d better be getting back. Charley will be wondering where I am.” He raised his eyebrows.
“I wish there was something more I could say, but if Grania is married . . .”
“Somehow, and I don’t even know how, I managed to screw it up.”
“You know, honey, I do understand. You will grow to love Charley. I sure had to learn to love your dad,” Elaine offered with a wry smile.
“I’m sure you’re right,” he agreed with a sigh. “Anyway, thanks for lunch and listening. Bye, Mom.”
Elaine watched her son as he pulled his car out of the drive. She shut the door and walked back to the terrace. Breaking the habit of a lifetime, she did not immediately clear the plates from the table. Instead, she sat down and began to process what her son had told her.
Half an hour later, Elaine had come to the conclusion that she had a choice to make: she could toe the party line and keep quiet about what she knew. Which would not only preserve the status quo, but also her own selfish wish for closeness in terms of proximity to her son and forthcoming grandchild. There wasn’t a doubt in Elaine’s mind that Charley would drag Matt back to Greenwich when the baby was born. Or she could investigate her suspicions further . . .
Elaine heard her husband’s Jeep pull up in their drive.
And decided to sleep on it.
38
The occupants of the farm were on red alert for signs of emotional stress from Aurora. She was certainly quieter than usual, her normal joie de vivre muted.
“Well, that surely is to be expected,” commented John to Kathleen one evening.
Kathleen had asked her if she wished to take some time off school, but Aurora had been adamant she wanted to go.
“Daddy always wanted me to concentrate on my lessons, and besides, Emily might find a new best friend if I’m not there,” Aurora had replied.
“I take my hat off to that small one,” Kathleen said as she arrived back in the kitchen having kissed Aurora good night. “I can only hope she’s not too good to be true now and heading for a crash later.”
“Yes,” agreed Grania, having just returned from her studio. “There’s no sign of it so far—it’s almost as if she was prepared.”
“I’d agree there.” Kathleen glanced at her daughter. “But I’ve always said she’s been here before. There’s an old soul inside her. She understands things that maybe we don’t. There’s sausages for you keeping warm in the range.”
“Thanks, Mam, I lost track of time.”
“What is it you’re doing in that studio of yours?” asked Kathleen.
“What I always do,” said Grania, in a tone that brokered no further discussion. She’d never been one for discussing her work until it was finished. And this project was so close to her heart—as if she had poured her soul into the clay itself—she couldn’t release it just yet. “Hans is arriving tomorrow.”
“Is he now?” Kathleen withdrew the sausages and mash from the range and placed the plate in front of Grania.
“He’s sleeping up at Dunworley House. I prepared a bedroom there for him today.”
“Right.” Kathleen sat down next to Grania and watched her as she picked at her food. “And how are you feeling, pet?”
“I’m all right. A little tired, but I’ve been working hard.” Grania shook her head. “I think I’ve left it too late to eat.” She put her knife and fork together.
“Not like you to be off your food.”
Grania stood up and put her plate in the sink. “I’ll be off to bed now, Mam.”
“Sleep well.”
“Thanks, Mam.”
• • •
“And there was me thinking it was Aurora that would be affected by all this. It seems she’s taken it better than our daughter,” commented Kathleen.
“Well now.” John reached for the light switch as his wife settled herself down next to him for the night. “I’d say Aurora’s lost a daddy, but found a life, whereas Grania’s lost her life.”
In the dark, Kathleen raised an eyebrow at her husband’s profundity. “I’m worried about her, John. This is the time of her life, right now. The time when she should be in her prime, at her peak. And she’s lost, John, she really is.”
“Give her some time, pet. She’s been through a lot, through no fault of her own, I’d say.”
“What did I tell you? It’s the curse of that Lisle family. I—”
“Enough, Kathleen. You can’t be blaming others. Grania did what she did with her own free will. Night, pet.”
Kathleen said no more—she knew better than to continue a conversation her husband did not wish to be part of. But she lay in the dark, sleep eluding her, worrying for her precious daughter.
• • •
Grania felt oddly relieved and comforted to see the sturdy figure of Hans Schneider pulling his car into the courtyard of Dunworley House. Wiping her clay-spattered hands on her apron, she opened the door of her studio and went outside to greet him.
“How are you, Grania?” He kissed her on both cheeks.
The shared trauma of watching Alexander die had brought them close and negated a need for formality between solicitor and client.
“I’m all right, thanks, Hans. Did you have a good journey?”
“Yes.” Hans turned around to survey Dunworley H
ouse. “It looks as if it is in need of a new roof.”
“It probably is. Shall we go inside?”
An hour later, they were eating a lunch of fresh oysters that Grania had bought from the quayside at Ring earlier that morning. Grania had also plundered the wine cellar, asking for advice from Hans on which one she should open.
“So, how is Aurora?” Hans asked.
“Amazing,” replied Grania. “Perhaps too amazing, but we shall see. Sadly,” Grania sighed, “losing someone she loves isn’t a new experience for her. And her life is so busy; between school, her ballet lessons and living on the farm, luckily she doesn’t have a lot of time to brood.”
“And you?” asked Hans.
“To be honest, I’m still struggling to get those last few days at the hospital out of my head.”
“Yes. I know what you mean. It was . . . difficult. I have brought the ashes, by the way.”
“Right,” Grania acknowledged soberly. “Another oyster?”
They ate in silence for a while, until Grania said, “Should I ask Aurora if she wants to help me spread them on Lily’s grave?”
“Will it disturb her, do you think?”
“I don’t know, but she was very upset she didn’t have a chance to say good-bye to her daddy in person. Perhaps it might help. Having said that, seeing him reduced to a few grains of ash may not be the right thing to do.”
“Well, from what you have told me, you have handled the situation very well so far. Perhaps you should again trust your instincts.”
“Thank you, Hans. It’s actually Aurora who’s handled it well. And my parents and my brother have been wonderful. They adore her.”
“In some ways, even though it is a tragedy Alexander and Lily have both gone, perhaps the life Aurora is leading now, the stability she has within a normal family, is healthy for her,” Hans mused. “She has had a very difficult childhood.”
The Girl on the Cliff Page 35
