‘Nina Donovan speaking.’
‘Nina, it’s Gracie. Gracie Templeton.’
An intake of breath. Almost a sob. ‘Gracie? Where are you? Gracie, I’m so —’
Gracie couldn’t talk to her here, like this. ‘I need to come and see you.’
They arranged the time and place. In five hours’ time, at Nina’s house in Brunswick. Gracie hung up before either of them said anything else.
Within an hour, she was back at her hotel. In the taxi from the airport, she’d realised she needed help. In her room, despite the time, knowing it was late, she phoned her mother in London.
She wasn’t sure how much she would tell her. As soon as she heard her mother’s voice, though, as soon as Gracie assured her she was fine, she told Eleanor everything. Her mother’s joy for her, for her and Tom, was immediate. Her anger, her confusion at what Nina had done, followed as quickly. Gracie interrupted her, with question after question.
‘Why would she have done it, Mum? Hurt not just me but Tom as well? I need to try and understand before I see her.’
‘You’re going to see her? On your own?’
‘Today.’
‘Gracie, is that wise?’ There was worry in Eleanor’s voice.
‘I have to, Mum. But I need your help first. You’re my mother. Would you have done the same thing, if the positions had been reversed? If I’d been the one badly hurt?’
There was silence for a few moments before Eleanor spoke. ‘Gracie, it was a difficult time. Decisions made in the heat of it all, things said, words spoken that can never be unsaid. We were all in shock, remember. It was bad enough for me, but Nina had to fly across the world, not knowing what awaited her —’
‘But it was afterwards that she lied about my letters, that she told Tom I never wanted to see him again. She told Tom that she was worried I would hurt him somehow.’
‘Every mother feels that way for her children, Gracie. Even if we’re mistaken sometimes. No one wants the people they love to feel any pain.’
‘But Nina was my friend. She must have known I’d never deliberately hurt Tom, or her. That’s what I can’t understand. At first, yes, but not to tell him about my letters for eight years?’
Eleanor’s voice was soft. ‘Tom was the centre of Nina’s life for so many years, Gracie. Perhaps she did regret her lies, I don’t know. But sometimes it’s impossible to see a way of fixing your mistakes, to admitting you’ve made an error of judgement, especially when love like that is involved. Especially if you think you’ve done it for the right reasons.’
‘But what could be right about it? What reason could she have? You’d never have done something like that, would you? Lied to me for so long, even if you felt you needed to protect me from something?’
‘It’s not that black and white, Gracie. Nothing ever is.’ She paused. ‘But yes, I’d always do anything I could to protect you too. To keep you safe. I can’t begin to describe the feeling, but it’s like an urge, an instinct, to give you the best life, the happiest life I can.’
‘That’s why you didn’t tell me about you and Dad for so many years? The truth about all the money? The reason you split up? To protect me?’
Another long silence from Eleanor. ‘That was part of it, Gracie, yes. I couldn’t tell you everything. You were too young. You would have worried too much. And I still think that was the right decision.’
Gracie suddenly needed to keep talking, to know everything. ‘But how did you know when it wasn’t going to work out with Dad? When it was time to stop trying?’
‘It wasn’t one moment, Gracie. In the same way it wasn’t one thing that made me fall in love with him. Many things happened to bring it to an end.’
‘The money problems?’
‘They didn’t help.’
‘Then what? If all you loved about him at first didn’t change, and your personalities didn’t change, couldn’t you have stayed together, enjoyed what you could about each other?’
‘It’s not always that simple, Gracie. I had to decide how much I could forgive and I finally realised I’d reached my quota.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Across the world, in her London living room, Eleanor realised the conversation was taking a dangerous turn. She needed to think quickly before she spoke again. ‘Gracie, you know, I think, that your father and I had difficulties in our marriage even before we went to Templeton Hall.’
‘I guessed. And I’d hear you fighting. Charlotte used to hint at things, too. But you still stayed together for so long. Was it just for us? Or because you still loved him?’
‘I loved your father very much, Gracie. Too much, probably. But the problem with Henry is he always wanted everything. Lots of money, big houses, a big career.’ Eleanor hesitated, then decided it was time to be as honest as she could be. ‘And not just me, I discovered, but other women as well.’
‘Women? He had affairs?’
‘I think so, yes.’
‘Oh, Mum, I’m so sorry.’
Eleanor smiled. ‘Gracie, it’s all right. It is. It’s all in the past now.’
‘Did you know any of the other women?’
‘Most of them, no.’ She hesitated. ‘One, yes.’
There was an intake of breath from Gracie. ‘It was Hope, wasn’t it? Dad had an affair with Hope.’
‘No, Gracie, it wasn’t Hope. She liked to tell people that they had, but it wasn’t true.’
‘But one of the women was a friend of yours? Is that what you mean?’
‘I thought she was, yes.’ Eleanor stopped there. ‘It doesn’t matter now, anyway. It’s all a long time ago now. And if it did matter once, it doesn’t now, for so many reasons.’
Gracie’s voice changed. ‘It was Nina, wasn’t it? Mum, is that what you’re saying? Did something happen between Dad and Nina when we were all living in the Hall? Would that explain so many things? Why she might have done —’
This time, Eleanor didn’t hesitate to lie. ‘No, Gracie, it wasn’t Nina. And I’m not going to tell you who it was.’ She paused, before making another decision. ‘But there is something your father did that I need to tell you about. Something that will affect you more than the others. I’ve only just learnt about it myself, but if this isn’t the right time, Gracie, I want you to say.’
‘No, tell me, please.’
This time Eleanor didn’t hold anything back. She told Gracie everything, about finding the lease, about contacting Henry, about all she now knew about Templeton Hall.
Gracie was quiet for a long moment when Eleanor finished talking. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she finally said. ‘None of it was true? We don’t own Templeton Hall? We’ve never owned it?’
Eleanor already regretted telling her. ‘I’m afraid not, Gracie. Your father invented the whole inheritance story, from start to finish.’
There was another long silence and then Gracie started to laugh. Really laugh.
‘Gracie? Are you okay? Are you all right?’
‘I am. I am. And I don’t think I’m surprised about it. I really don’t.’ She laughed again. ‘It actually makes sense. Being there this week, seeing it all again, it all felt like some sort of a dream, make-believe. And that’s why, isn’t it? It felt make-believe because it was make-believe.’
‘You really don’t mind? I was worried that of all of you, you’d be the most upset. Gracie, I mustn’t know you at all.’
‘I’m too happy today to be upset.’ Another laugh. ‘But now everything makes sense, all those heirlooms and paintings of our ancestors appearing out of nowhere, all the changing stories … None of it was true?’
‘Not as far as I can tell. If it’s any consolation, Gracie, your father fooled me completely too. He told me he didn’t think I’d agree to moving the whole family to Australia if there wasn’t a family link, if it wasn’t an inherited property.’
‘Was he right? Would you have agreed to go if you’d known he was just leasing it?’
‘Of course n
ot.’
They both laughed then.
‘Are you furious with him?’ Gracie asked.
‘On one hand, completely and utterly. On the other hand, no. What’s the point? I think I’m running out of fury, Gracie. The older I get, the more I realise I’m not in charge of the world or the people in it. I can’t control them any more than I want them to try and control me.’
‘Try and tell Charlotte that. In fact, wait until Charlotte hears about this.’
‘I’ve told Henry he has to tell her. And Audrey, too. As for Spencer, he happened to walk in on us today so he already knows. Not that he seemed to mind —’
‘Spencer’s back in London?’
‘And back living with me for a little while, yes. His Irish girlfriend has apparently had enough of him. Though I did hear him ringing Hope and offering his services as a highly paid nurse, so I suspect he won’t be with me for long.’ Before Gracie had a chance to comment, Eleanor continued. ‘That’s enough talking, my Gracie, for you and for me. I love you and I’m so very happy for you and Tom and please give him my warmest wishes.’ She paused. ‘And I’ll be thinking of you with Nina today.’
‘Thanks, Mum. For everything.’
‘I don’t think I was much help.’
‘You were. I promise.’ A pause. ‘Is there anything you want me to say to her from you?’
Eleanor didn’t need to think about that. ‘No, Gracie, there’s not. Nothing at all.’
Three hours later, Gracie was in a taxi on her way to Nina’s house in Brunswick. She’d spoken to Tom before she left her hotel. He’d just landed in Perth. When he asked her how she was feeling, she told him the truth. She was so happy and sad and confused, all at once, all the different feelings swirling inside her. There was anger now too. The more she’d thought about it, the more she’d realised what Nina had done to her, to Tom.
‘She’s left message after message on my phone,’ Tom told her. ‘I haven’t called her back. I can’t talk to her yet.’
Gracie didn’t ask what Nina had said, or how she’d sounded. She didn’t want to know. She needed to see her for herself. ‘I’ll ring you afterwards, as soon as I can,’ Gracie promised.
She stared out at the passing Melbourne streets now, at unfamiliar street names, rows of shops, neat houses, each on their own block of land, all so different from London. The sky was grey, a soft rain falling. She asked the driver how far away they were. Fifteen minutes at the most, he said. She glanced at her watch. She was on time. She’d be early, in fact.
After talking to her mother, she’d tried to rest, even for a little while. She and Tom had barely slept the previous night. Sleep proved impossible. Caught midway between happiness and anxiety, her thoughts were tumbled and tormented as she tried to prepare herself for this meeting. She wasn’t even sure if she could picture Nina any more. It was sixteen years since they’d seen each other. Sixteen years and a lifetime. She thought of the years at Templeton Hall, her friendship with Nina, how much it had meant, how sad she’d been to leave. Then her thoughts leapt forward, to Tom, to the moment they’d met at Paddington Station, her waiting for him, wearing the red coat he’d always loved. Their days in London together, travelling together: Scotland, Ireland, France, Italy. Image after image flashed into her mind, good times dissolving into the worst of times, the months after the crash, the crash itself …
She glanced at her watch, asked the driver again. Ten minutes away. She tried to imagine how Nina might be feeling now. Angry with her still? Defiant about what she had done? She hadn’t sounded angry on the phone. She had sounded upset. She hadn’t sounded like the Nina Gracie remembered.
More memories flashed into her mind, this time from childhood. Visiting Nina with her father and Spencer that day, asking to borrow Tom. Having cups of tea with her. Painting with her. Talking to her, so much, about everything, calling to see her every day, sometimes more than once a day. She remembered the day of Tom’s cricket match, the party they’d held for him … They’d held the party for Tom that day? Not Nina? Why? That thought sparked other images, of Tom spending so much time at the Hall. He and Spencer running riot, up to mischief all the time, at the dam, on the roof, in their tree house … Tom had practically moved in with the Templetons. He’d loved it at the Hall. He’d told her as much, as they’d travelled around Europe together. They’d talked a lot about those times, their shared memories another bond between them.
Now, though, Gracie tried to imagine how Nina might have felt back then. It must have been hard for her. If she’d had a husband to talk to, other children, perhaps it would have been different. Perhaps it would have been easier to share Tom. But Tom was all Nina had. The centre of her world. The person she loved most in the world. Even as a child, Gracie had somehow seen that. Now, as an adult, after her conversation with her mother, it seemed even clearer.
And if Nina had felt that way about Tom as a child, it must have been magnified a hundred-fold after the accident, when he was so badly injured. All she must have wanted to do was bring him home, keep him safe, protect him from anyone, anything, that could ever hurt him again. Protect him, especially, from the people who had caused the accident.
Protect him from the Templetons.
‘Here you are, love.’
They were in front of Nina’s house. She’d arrived.
She paid, got out, a mass of nerves now. It was a small cottage. A neat front garden. She barely noticed it as she walked up the path. It felt like the longest walk of her life.
Before she had a chance to knock, the front door opened. Nina was standing there. She was wearing a blue dress, boots, even a necklace, as if she’d dressed up especially. She looked older, but with the same dark hair, the same blue eyes.
‘Gracie …’
Gracie stopped short of the door. ‘Hello, Nina.’
There were no smiles between them. No warmth. Only wariness, Gracie realised. On both their sides. And something else coming from Nina. It was fear. She saw it in her eyes. Nina was scared of her.
Nina seemed unable to move or to speak. Gracie glanced down. The other woman’s hands were clenched.
‘May I come in?’
‘Of course. Gracie, of course.’ She stepped back and Gracie followed her, into her living room. She glanced around. It was as colourful as Nina’s farmhouse had been, as beautifully decorated as the apartment in the Hall – bright paintings, warm-hued rugs, cheerful curtains. Young Gracie would have exclaimed over them. Now, Gracie said nothing.
She turned, seeing that expression on Nina’s face again. Fear and something else. Nina looked sad. Desperately sad, and somehow defeated. As if she was waiting for one final blow. A blow from Gracie? Is that what she was expecting? A furious tirade?
This time Nina broke the silence. ‘Can I get you anything? Tea? A drink?’
Gracie shook her head. She couldn’t pretend this was a normal visit. She couldn’t even make any more polite conversation.
‘Why, Nina? Why did you do it? Not just to Tom but to me too?’
There was a split-second when she saw something flicker across Nina’s face, something raw, something almost angry, then just as quickly it disappeared. Nina seemed to crumple in front of her, down into an armchair. ‘I can’t explain, Gracie. I can’t.’
Once, Gracie would have rushed to her side, tried to console her. Now, she made herself stay still, kept her voice even. ‘You have to, Nina. You have to. We need to know.’
The ‘we’ registered. Nina looked up, her face still anguished, her eyes filled with tears. ‘Have you seen Tom?’ At Gracie’s nod, another question. ‘Is it … will it be all right between you?’
It was too new with Tom, too precious, too fragile yet. She didn’t answer. ‘Why did you do it, Nina? Why did you lie?’
‘If you had seen him, Gracie —’
‘I wanted to, Nina. I wanted to do everything I could for him.’
Nina shook her head. ‘He was a different person. He was broken. He was so fr
ightened, in so much pain. His whole life changed in that accident, Gracie.’
‘All our lives changed, Nina.’
It was as if Nina hadn’t heard her. ‘All his life, all I’d ever wanted to do was protect him, give him the best life I could, and yet I’d failed him —’
‘It wasn’t you, Nina. It was me. I was the driver. It was my fault.’ Gracie was surprised at the strength in her own voice. She was no longer a child talking to Nina. She was an adult. The eight years of sadness, of grief, of soul-searching and worry seemed to have crystallised inside her, giving her strength, keeping her steady. ‘I hadn’t been drinking, but it was my fault. I lost concentration and I ran into the truck. It could have been me injured or Spencer hurt, but it was Tom and I will never be able to forgive myself for that. Ever. But I still need the truth from you. Why didn’t you give him my letters? Why didn’t you send his letters to me? Why did you lie to us both?’
‘I had to. I had to.’
‘No, you didn’t. I would have helped him. My whole family could have helped him.’
‘We didn’t want your help.’ Nina’s voice had sudden force. ‘Can’t you see that? He was my son, Gracie. My responsibility, not yours.’ Tears were running down Nina’s face but she didn’t wipe them away.
‘He was an adult, Nina.’ Gracie was on less firm ground now. She’d expected excuses from Nina. Not this raw feeling. ‘He wasn’t a child any more.’
‘He was still my son, Gracie. He always was my son, before your family came along and again after you all left.’ Nina stood up then too, the tears gone, the words pouring from her: sharp, angry words. ‘You Templetons always had everything, didn’t you? Whatever you wanted. All that money, all that charm, even the Hall just fell into your laps. It was always so easy for all of you, with your perfect lives, the perfect family —’
‘No, Nina!’ Gracie couldn’t let her get away with this. ‘It was never easy for us, for any of us. There was nothing perfect about any of us. Not then, not now. Why do you think I spent so much time with you, at your house? I needed someone like you in my life, Nina. And you’re wrong about the Hall falling into our laps too. I only heard the whole story today. We never owned it. We didn’t inherit it. My father leased it.’
At Home with the Templetons Page 49
