The Girl on the Cliff

by Lucinda Riley

  “Come and sit down, darlin’, and have a brew,” encouraged John, patting the seat next to him.

  Grania did so, her reluctance tempered by the genuine warmth of her family who so obviously loved her, despite her many failings. “Thanks, Dad,” she muttered as John poured her a cup of tea and placed it in front of her. She took a sip as the rest of the family continued to stare at her silently, gauging her state of mind.

  “The price of a calf has risen by ten percent,” John announced suddenly to no one in particular, trying to break the tension. “When I was at market today in Cork, the other fellas were complaining that their herds will be smaller next year if the price rise continues.”

  The door from the stairs opened behind Grania, but she didn’t turn around.

  “Feeling fresher now?” John looked up. “Those cattle markets can leave you with the smell of them on you for days.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” said the voice behind Grania. “I appreciate you taking me along, John. It was real interesting to see how the auction works.”

  A hand touched Grania’s shoulder. “Hi, baby, you’re back. Me and your folks were worried about you.”

  She turned around and looked up into Matt’s eyes. “I . . . thought you’d left.”

  “Your pop offered to show me the cattle auction in Cork,” he replied, pulling out the chair next to Grania and sitting down. “Thought I should see a little local Irish color before I left, and I sure saw that,” chuckled Matt.

  “But . . . your flight . . . I thought you were leaving today. You said you were last night.”

  “Your pop suggested I go with him to Cork at breakfast this morning, so I moved it.” Matt reached under the table and squeezed her hand. “And besides, me and your folks thought maybe me staying a little longer might be a good idea, under the circumstances. They figured you needed some time to think, have some space, so I got out of your hair for the day. Do you mind that I’m still here, Grania?”

  The family gaze turned upon her yet again, waiting for her response. Her throat was constricted, a huge lump of emotion lodged in it. With the support of everyone around the table, Matt had loved her enough to give her one final chance.

  “Oh, do say you don’t mind, Mummy!” Aurora rolled her eyes. “We all know you love Matt to bits, and the cows need to be shut away for the night.”

  Grania turned to Matt, her eyes shining with tears, and smiled at him.

  “No, Matt. I don’t mind one bit.”

  Aurora

  Reader, I did it!

  Yes, I know my disappearing act caused a lot of trouble and stress, for Grania in particular, but you know how desperate I’ve been during stages of this book to rewrite the plot and engineer a different ending. Well, that was my moment to step in, to do what any fairy godmother always does, and pop up in a puff of smoke to make things better.

  And they always fly. Just like I did, all the way to America.

  I wasn’t frightened at all.

  People have often asked me why I seem to have no fear. It’s apparently that which stops so many people doing what they need to make their life happier. Well, I really don’t have the answer, but maybe if one isn’t afraid of ghosts or, in fact, death itself, which is the worst thing that can happen to a human being, there isn’t much else left to be frightened of.

  Except pain . . .

  Spending so much of my childhood with grown-ups, it’s always surprised me the way they couldn’t quite seem to say what they meant. How communication would break down, even though I could see in their heart they were hurting, that they loved the other person. How pride, anger and insecurity so easily kills the chance of possible happiness.

  Yes, it could have all gone horribly wrong, but sometimes one has to take the leap of faith and trust in the fact it might not. At the very worst, at least I had tried and, really, I believe that is all one can do in life. Because it’s so short and, as I know, looking back when one has little time left, it’s best to have as few regrets as possible.

  And, of course, Grania helped me. I’ve talked earlier about having to learn lessons in life, and Grania saw and accepted her failings, just in the nick of time. It was a close-run thing, but hopefully, now she’s done that, not only will her current life be easier, it might also mean she comes back as something lovely next time. Personally, I quite fancy being a bird—perhaps a seagull. I want to know what it feels like to take wing, fly off the cliffs and circle high above the ocean.

  And Matt is just the kind of man I wish I could have married. And I knew he would make a very good stand-in daddy to replace the one I’d lost. These days, I know that many women wouldn’t agree that they need a male in their life but, Reader, were we humans not born to find a mate? Do we all not chase after and wish for the magic of love for most of our lives?

  Having watched a lot of films recently, I’ve realized there are only three main topics: war, money and love. And normally, even in the former, the latter sneaks in somewhere.

  And they are certainly all in this story.

  We are nearing the end now, in all sorts of ways.

  I’d better hurry up . . .

  44

  London, One Year Later

  Grania and Aurora stood in front of the elegant white house and looked up.

  “It’s beautiful,” breathed Aurora. She turned to Hans. “Is it really mine?”

  “All yours, Aurora. You inherited this and Dunworley House from your mother.” Hans smiled. “Shall we take a look inside?”

  “Yes, please,” said Aurora.

  Grania paused on the step and put her hand on Hans’s arm. “What is the address of this house?”

  Hans consulted the details. “Cadogan House, Cadogan Place.”

  “Oh, my goodness!” Grania’s hand went to her mouth. “This is the house where my great-grandmother, Mary, worked as a servant. And where Anna Langdon, Aurora’s grandmother, was brought to by Lawrence Lisle when she was a baby.”

  “How interesting. One day, perhaps, you can tell Aurora what you know about her past heritage.” They stood in the darkened entrance hall and Hans sniffed. “Damp,” he surmised. “This house has been empty for many years.”

  “I know Lily lived here with her mother after the problems in Ireland,” confirmed Grania, trying to put the pieces together. “When Lawrence Lisle died, Sebastian, her father, inherited this from his brother.”

  “Well, Alexander, Lily and Aurora did not live here when they were in London. Alexander had a very pleasant house of his own just up the road in Kensington. Not on this scale, it must be said,” commented Hans, “but certainly more welcoming.”

  “It’s huge!” Aurora said in awe as she walked into the elegant drawing room and Hans opened the shutters to let in some light.

  “It is, young lady,” Hans agreed, “but I think, like Dunworley House, it will need some funds to restore it to its former glory.”

  As Grania followed Hans and Aurora through the many rooms, and then upstairs, she felt as if the house had been dipped in aspic and preserved as a relic from another era. Aurora had huge fun with the bellpulls, and they could hear a faint tinkling beneath them in the kitchen.

  “My great-grandmother Mary would have been one of the servants to answer that bell,” commented Grania as they made their way back down the stairs.

  Hans shivered as they arrived back in the entrance hall. “Well, Aurora, in my opinion, we had better consider your father’s house as your London residence,” he said, his Swiss liking for order and cleanliness coming to the fore. “And perhaps sell this?”

  “Oh no, Uncle Hans, I love it here!” She danced back into the drawing room and pointed to something sitting on top of a desk. “What is that?”

  “That, my dear Aurora, is a very old gramophone.” Hans and Grania exchanged a smile. “It is what we relics from the past used to play our music on.”

  Aurora glanced at the dusty piece of vinyl that lay upon the spindle. “It’s Swan Lake! Look, Grania, it’s Swan
Lake! Perhaps it was my grandmother, Anna, who last played it. She was a famous ballerina, Uncle Hans.”

  “Perhaps it was. Now, I think we have seen all there is to see.” Hans was heading for the front door. “I am sure there are many developers who would be eager to get their hands on this. It would be perfect to convert into three or four apartments. It is in a prime location too. It will sell for many millions.”

  “But, Uncle Hans, if I decide I want us all to live here while I’m at ballet school, would it cost a lot of my money to make it a bit brighter?”

  “Yes, my dear Aurora, it would. A lot of money,” he confirmed.

  Aurora, arms crossed, eyed him. “And do I have enough to make this house into a nice place for us to live?”

  “Yes, you do,” confirmed Hans, “but I would not advise it. Especially as you have a perfectly comfortable house a few miles down the road in Kensington.”

  “No. I’ve decided that this is where I want to live.” She turned to Grania on the doorstep as Hans locked up behind them. “What about you, Mummy? After all, you’d have to live here too.”

  “It’s a beautiful old house, Aurora, and of course I’d be happy to live here with you. But as Uncle Hans says, it might be more sensible to sell it.”

  “No,” said Aurora adamantly. “This is where I want to be.”

  The three of them left Cadogan House and took a taxi back to Claridge’s. Over tea and cakes, Aurora imperiously ordered Hans to make the necessary arrangements to begin the process of renovating her house. “We can live in Daddy’s house in Kensington while all the things are put right. Can’t we, Grania?”

  “If you’re sure that’s what you want, Aurora, then yes.” Grania’s cell phone rang. “Excuse me.” Grania left the lounge and went into the lobby to take the call in private.

  “Hi, baby, how’s it hanging? Have you seen the house?”

  “Yes, I have. It’s beautiful and absolutely huge, and needs just about everything doing to it to make it habitable. But Aurora has decided that’s where she wants to live.”

  “And the audition at the Royal Ballet School yesterday?”

  “Aurora said it went well, but we won’t know for certain for a week or so.”

  “And you, honey?”

  “I’m fine, Matt. Missing you.”

  “Me too. Only a few days now, though, and I’ll be there with you.”

  “You are sure this is what you want, Matt?”

  “Never surer. In fact, I can’t wait to get out of New York and start my new life with my two girls. On that note, give my other girl a hug from me.”

  “I will.”

  “Oh, and Grania?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re not going to welch on the deal at the last moment, are you? I mean, I don’t wanna throw up everything this end and then, when my UK visa runs out in three months’ time, find you’ve changed your mind about marrying me.”

  “I won’t change my mind, Matt,” Grania promised. “I have no choice really, do I? You’ll be thrown out of the country if I do.”

  “Exactly. I’m making damned sure that, this time, there’s no get-out clause. I love you, baby, and I’ll be there with you both real soon.”

  “I love you too, Matt.” Grania smiled as she replaced her cell phone in her handbag and walked back to the lounge. It had taken a year of commuting between New York and Ireland to settle on the best plan to combine their three lives and forge a future. The decision had been made when Aurora had announced that she wanted to try for a place at the Royal Ballet School, situated in leafy Richmond Park, just on the outskirts of London.

  Grania’s exhibition, three months ago now, had been a big success, and she’d been spending more and more time in London too. All that had remained was for Matt to find a job as a psychology lecturer, which he’d achieved at King’s College three weeks ago. In the long holidays both Matt and Aurora would have from their respective university and ballet school, they planned to return to Dunworley and take advantage of the beautifully renovated house. It would also mean Grania could work in her studio, and Aurora could spend time with her adopted Irish family and her beloved animals.

  Grania knew what Matt was sacrificing to leave New York, but as he’d said himself, maybe London was the perfect compromise; they’d both be on neutral territory—neither of them a native—and would forge a new future together.

  “I’ve just been telling Uncle Hans that I think we should sell Daddy’s house in Kensington once Cadogan House has been made beautiful. That will help pay for the cost of it,” said Aurora.

  “Her father’s daughter,” Hans raised his eyebrows, “showing financial acumen at the age of ten. Well, Aurora, as you are my client, and therefore my boss, I must adhere to your wishes. And yes, as your trustee, I believe they are sensible.”

  “I’m going to powder my nose, as Granny says,” said Aurora.

  When she’d skipped off, Hans asked, “How is Matt?”

  “He’s good, thanks, Hans. Busy packing up the loft and his life in the Big Apple.”

  “It is a big change he is making—that you are both making. But, I think, the right one. A fresh start can be very beneficial.”

  “Yes,” Grania agreed. “And I don’t think I ever thanked you for knowing me better than I knew myself. You made me see the mistakes I’d made.”

  “Attchh! I did nothing,” Hans refuted modestly. “The trick is not only to know your failings, but to strive to put them right. And that is exactly what you have done, Grania.”

  “Well, I try, but that pride of mine will never completely disappear,” she sighed.

  “You are with someone who understands you, probably far better than he ever did before. Matt is a good man, Grania. You must take care of him.”

  “I know, and I will, Hans, I promise.”

  “What are you two talking about?” said Aurora, arriving back at the table. “Can we go up to the room now? I want to phone Granny and tell her all about my new house.”

  • • •

  “Aurora tells me she’s decided she wants to live in Cadogan House,” said Kathleen, when Aurora had finished chewing her granny’s ear off and passed the phone to Grania.

  “Yes.”

  “You do know that’s where Mary, your great-grandmother—”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Well now, I’m a-wondering; do you remember, during the telling of Mary’s tale, that when Lawrence Lisle brought his little baby girl home with him, he asked that a suitcase be stored upstairs until the baby’s mother came to collect it? You don’t think . . . ?”

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out,” said Grania. “Next time I go, I’ll take a look.”

  • • •

  A week later, when Matt had arrived in London, Grania took Aurora and Matt to Cadogan House. Aurora provided Matt with a guided tour, after which he came downstairs to the kitchen and put his arms around Grania.

  “Hey, honey, it’s a good thing I don’t have the same problem as you.” He whistled. “This house would even make my pop sit up and be impressed. It’s like, amazing! And I’m gonna be living in it rent free.” He smiled. “Will I be able to cope?”

  “Well, it’s not mine either, Matt, is it? It’s Aurora’s.”

  “I’m teasing you, baby.” Matt hugged her.

  “Are you sure you’re OK about it, Matt?” Grania looked up at him. “Can you be comfortable here?”

  “Lady”—he held his hands up—“I get to be with you and pursue the career I love. And if my wife and child can provide the creature comforts along the way, I have no problem with that.”

  “Good. Now, do you think you could make yourself useful, and come up to the attic with me? I’ve brought a torch. There’s something I want to look for.”

  With Aurora happily ensconced in the drawing room, listening to a barely audible Swan Lake on the ancient gramophone, Matt and Grania climbed the stairs to the top of the house.

  “There,” Grania pointed to
a square cutout on the ceiling, “that must be it.”

  Matt looked up at it. “I’ll need something to stand on to reach it.”

  They duly dragged a wooden chair from one of the attic bedrooms. Matt stood on it precariously, reached above him and struggled with the rusty catch. He yanked and it gave way, freeing the opening in a cloud of dust and cobwebs.

  “Man, I don’t think this place has been visited for decades,” Matt said as he poked his head into the hole. “Pass me the torch.” Grania did so, and Matt shone it around the attic. “Don’t think you’re gonna like it up here, baby. Why don’t you tell me what it is you’re looking for and I’ll see if I can find it?”

  “From what my mam told me, you’re looking for a small and very old suitcase.”

  “OK.” Matt used the strength in his arms to haul himself up, and sat on the edge of the hole, his legs dangling beneath. There was an instant noise of pattering from above them.

  “Mice, or worse, rats.” Matt blanched. “Better tell the surveyor to take a look when he comes round.”

  “In that case, perhaps we can get someone else to clear everything out another day,” Grania suggested with a shudder.

  “Hey, no way! At least I’m useful for something.” Matt smiled down at her. “Stay there and I’ll go and have a poke around.” He swung his legs over the threshold and gingerly stood up. “Think some of these boards are rotten, honey. Wow, this place is packed with old stuff.”

  Grania stood below, listening to Matt’s feet above her.

  “OK, I’ve found a couple of trunks . . . but they are real heavy.”

  “No,” Grania shouted up, “it was a small suitcase.”

  “What’s in it anyway that’s so important?” he called. “Hell, the cobwebs are out of a horror movie! Even I’m getting spooked.”

  Grania heard thumps as Matt moved objects above her. Then finally . . .

  “I think I’ve found something—what’s left of it. I’ll hand it down to you.”

  Matt’s hands appeared through the hole, holding a small suitcase, its color indeterminate due to the layers of dust on it.