Lament

by Stewart, Lynsey M.

  ‘A must for all children experiencing the devastating loss of a parent.’

  ‘Ms Riley’s lasting legacy. Wonderful.’

  ‘Nat.’ Marc came into the shop, ringing the bell above the door, the shrill clatter breaking my thoughts. ‘I think you need to see this.’

  ‘Just a second.’ I opened the book and read the dedication.

  ‘To my darling Eli, I hope you find your voice, sweet girl.’

  ‘Nat.’ Marc’s voice was echoing in my head as realisation treaded through.

  ‘Oh my God,’ I said, lifting my hand to my mouth as I read the second dedication.

  ‘AB. My love. I leave this life content, knowing that I was loved with every beat of your heart. Flourish, my darling. Love again with a passion.’

  Marc sat me down by gently placing his hands on my shoulders and lowering me slowly. ‘Nat, please. There’s something you need to know.’

  ‘I know,’ I whispered, a tear falling onto the cover of the book. ‘I know what you’re going to say.’

  ‘I did a search on my phone. Jennifer Riley died six years ago.’ I closed my eyes and nodded. ‘She wrote The Grieving Tree when she was given her terminal diagnosis. She wanted to leave something for her daughter, a way of helping her to work through her grief. It’s dedicated to her…her name is Eli.’

  I nodded again, trying desperately to control my tears. ‘But Alex’s wife was called Lisa,’ I replied, trancelike. ‘It can’t be her. It can’t be Alex’s…oh my God.’ I knew I wasn’t making sense. I realised that I was clutching at straws, trying to come up with anything that would stop us all from connecting the dots, but it was hopeless, we were all reaching for the same obvious conclusion.

  ‘I’m pretty sure she used a pen name,’ Marc replied. ‘There isn’t anything online to link her to Alex.’

  ‘This is blowing my mind,’ Lacey replied as she knelt in front of me. ‘Talk to me, babe.’

  ‘It’s a lot to take in,’ I said, chewing my cheek to stop the shake of my lips. ‘I don’t get it. If Lisa wrote the book, she can’t be writing the letters.’

  ‘Maybe it’s a PA company,’ Marc offered.

  ‘Yeah, that must be it,’ Lacey said. ‘They must be paying someone. A trained counsellor or something.’

  ‘No,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘They were written by someone who’s experienced loss. The responses were too real, too raw.’

  Marc and Lacey glanced at each other. Lacey bit her lip and Marc started chewing on his thumbnail.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ I asked. ‘You’re using that adorable telepathic boyfriend, girlfriend thing again.’

  Marc changed his position from kneeling to sitting cross-legged. ‘Do you think it could be Alex?’

  I shook my head. ‘No.’

  ‘Perhaps he’s continuing his wife’s legacy?’

  I narrowed my eyes in confusion. ‘No. Nope. Definitely not.’

  ‘She’s written a book for Eli. To help her cope with her grief,’ Lacey said. ‘He could be the one writing the letters. To carry on her legacy – pay tribute – I don’t know.’

  ‘Jesus, no. He wouldn’t know where to start. He can’t even talk to Eli about losing her mum. It’s too painful for him.’

  ‘But would it be easier if he was someone else?’ Marc asked. ‘A different persona.’

  ‘Like the Grief Fairy,’ Lacey said. My mouth stayed in a permanent state of open. ‘Nat, it all makes sense. You said you felt the Grief Fairy knew you better than anyone.’

  ‘It’s not Alex!’ I replied, shaking my head before banging the book down on the counter and leaving the shop in an adrenaline-fueled rush. Marc and Lacey trailed after me. ‘He’s not…good with children.’

  ‘He has one!’ Marc shouted.

  ‘He’s fine with his own!’

  ‘Nat, slow down!’ Lacey said, pulling my arm to make me turn.

  ‘He’s exceptionally busy! There’s no way he could fit writing responses to grieving children into his busy schedule.’

  ‘Maybe he has someone to help him?’ Marc suggested, and it finally hit me.

  ‘Nadia,’ I whispered, hitting my nail against my teeth. ‘That’s it! It must be her. She’s Lisa’s sister. She works for Alex doing PA stuff and some–’ I put my hand on my forehead. ‘Marketing…things.’

  ‘That makes sense,’ Lacey said, shrugging.

  ‘Total sense,’ Marc agreed, nodding profusely.

  I wasn’t sure I believed it either.

  Silence hung around us. Marc began kicking imaginary rocks with his biker boots and as I put my hands in my pockets, I felt the envelope I’d found at the Grieving Tree earlier today. Pulling it out, I read the words again.

  The Grief Fairy is closer than you think.

  ‘It can’t be him,’ I whispered, trying to smile through my tears. I folded my arms, trying to protect myself from a reality I wasn’t ready to face. ‘He wouldn’t keep this from me. He wouldn’t let it carry on. There’s no way he would do that to me. Pretending to be someone else…letting me believe it.’ My voice was climbing, my body shaking. Lacey put her arms around me as I started to break down. ‘It can’t be him, Lace. He would have told me. He would have said!’

  ‘I know, I know,’ she repeated against my ear.

  I clasped her hand and looked her in the eyes.

  ‘What shall I do?’

  ‘Go to him,’ she replied. ‘Ask him for the truth.’

  27

  Nat

  ‘Can I have your car keys?’ I gasped out.

  ‘What on earth is going on?’

  ‘Keys.’

  ‘Of course, but where are you going and what’s happened?’ my grandmother asked.

  I’d run back to the cottage, leaving Marc and Lacey to have dinner at the Italian restaurant opposite the train station. The same one where I’d had my seventeenth birthday party all those years ago.

  ‘I need to see Alex.’

  ‘Has he hurt you?’ She lifted her chin and pulled back her shoulders.

  ‘No! I just need to ask him about the tree…the Grieving Tree.’ She drew in her eyebrows as she handed me the keys. ‘I think it’s him, Grandma.’

  ‘Sit with me,’ she said as I headed for the door.

  ‘I can’t!’

  ‘Nat.’

  I heard her calling after me as I headed to the car and one final shout made me turn around to find her at the front door.

  ‘Don’t drive when you’re feeling like this!’ My heart slammed still as the image of my mother’s wrecked car lit up in front of my eyes. ‘Take some time to calm down. Go and dance. Do anything else!’

  ‘I need to see him,’ I said, dropping my eyes from hers. I knew why she was concerned, she’d lost a daughter and a granddaughter. I was all she had left.

  ‘Let me call you a taxi,’ she said, opening her arms. I walked back and settled into her as she draped them around me. ‘Thank you.’ I nodded against her shoulder.

  She pulled me inside with her warmth still surrounding me and held out the wooden chair at the kitchen table. I watched as she called a taxi from the old-fashioned phone on the kitchen wall and smiled as she dropped herself down on the chair next to me. ‘Tell me what’s happened.’

  ‘Canterbary Books have a display in the window for a new children’s book called The Grieving Tree.’

  ‘Hold on. Slow down.’

  ‘I think Alex’s wife wrote it before she died...it’s dedicated to a child called Eli.’

  ‘A book?’ she asked, a sudden look of recognition passing across her face.

  ‘A children’s book.’

  ‘Was Alex’s wife an author?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to find out.’

  ‘Who is the author?’

  ‘Jennifer Riley.’ She widened her eyes. ‘Did you know her?’

  ‘I think I recognise the name,’ she replied, pressing her fingers to her head. ‘Oh, Nat.’

  ‘What
is it?’

  ‘I remember just after May died, I was asked to meet with a friend of May’s mother. She came to On Pointe and asked me about May’s dancing, her interests, what she enjoyed about her classes.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked.

  ‘She said she was doing something to help the family, didn’t go into any further detail,’ she replied. ‘I was happy to help.’

  ‘Was it her? Was it Jennifer Riley?’

  ‘I don’t know, I can’t remember if it was Jennifer or Lisa or someone else,’ she said.

  ‘Did you show her the pictures? Of May dressed in the fox costume?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh, Grandma,’ I gasped. ‘I need to know if it’s Alex’s wife. I need to hear it from him.’

  ‘What difference would it make if it is?’

  ‘The letters,’ I replied, holding my hands out. ‘Does he only know me because he was replying to my letters?’

  ‘I think you already know the answer to that, sweetheart.’

  A car horn sounded from outside and I jumped up.

  ‘Keep your senses,’ she said. ‘Be calm and don’t say anything you’ll regret.’

  * * *

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Maggie, it’s Nat. Is Alex home?’

  ‘Yes. Hold on, I’ll let you through.’ The large gates clicked and started to pull open with a low, vibrating buzz. I thought about staying there, my legs heavy like lead, unable to carry me forward. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say to him, hadn’t thought about the implications this would have on our relationship, what it was that I even wanted to hear.

  Small steps took me along the gravel driveway. I concentrated on the crunch beneath my feet, glanced to the three cars parked outside the garage and wondered who else was here with him. Was Nadia inside? I saw the front door open, Maggie standing there with a wide smile on her face.

  ‘What a lovely surprise! He’ll be so pleased to see you!’

  ‘Is Eli home?’ I asked. I didn’t want her to overhear our conversation.

  ‘Alex is just helping her bathe and get ready for bed.’

  ‘Is there somewhere quiet…a room where I can wait for him?’

  ‘Sure,’ she replied, rubbing my arm as I passed by her. ‘Is everything OK?’

  ‘I just need to talk to him without Eli around.’

  ‘I can take you through to his office?’ she said as I followed behind her to the kitchen.

  ‘Nat, what a surprise.’ Nadia was sitting at the island surrounded by papers and in front of a laptop. ‘What can we do for you this evening?’

  ‘I was just showing her through to Alex’s office,’ Maggie said as Nadia glanced at me.

  ‘He’s busy, Maggie. You know that.’ Maggie’s smile dropped as Nadia sighed deeply. ‘Why don’t you carry on with whatever it was you were doing, and I’ll look after Nat.’

  Maggie placed her hand on my arm. ‘I’ll be around if you need anything.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I replied, offering her a smile. She seemed nervous.

  Nadia twisted her head, waiting for Maggie to disappear before getting up and walking to the opposite side of the island to face me. ‘We keep getting house calls from you. Surely this is above and beyond a dance teacher’s role?’

  ‘I’m here to see Alex.’

  She crossed her arms, sighing through her nose. ‘Whatever for?’

  ‘That’s personal. Between us.’

  ‘Us?’ she repeated, her eyebrow arching.

  ‘Can you let him know I’m here?’ She continued staring at me, her arms still folded across her chest, but failing to offer a response. ‘I’d like to talk to him in private.’

  ‘What’s this about?’

  ‘It’s personal.’

  ‘You keep saying that, Nat,’ she replied. ‘Almost like there’s something more between you?’ I tried to think of a reply but didn’t reach the first word before she carried on speaking. ‘But there couldn’t be, could there? Alex is too loyal to the memory of his wife. He still isn’t in the right place to consider a relationship with anyone else. Lisa was far too important for him to betray.’

  ‘Nadia–’

  ‘He’s working hard at the moment. Not only does he have his music, but he’s also taken on a project in tribute to Lisa. It’s been a long time coming but he’s finally ready to let the world see what a wonderful person she was, how she idolised him and Elise.’

  ‘The Grieving Tree,’ I said, my voice catching in my throat. That small clue to my anxious nerves made her smile.

  ‘You must have seen the display on the high street.’ I nodded as she smirked. ‘It was important to Alexander that the Canterbary book store had the first promo opportunity. She was a local author after all and Alexander chose to have the real Grieving Tree in the village. They were ecstatic–’

  ‘Is it him?’

  She flashed another smile. A winning smile. One that told me she knew I was affected, knew I was shaking with emotion. ‘Is what him?’

  ‘The letters,’ I replied.

  ‘She was close to finishing the book before she died,’ she said, ignoring my question. ‘Alexander loved her so much that he made it his mission to finish it. He’s done such a beautiful job, don’t you think?’

  ‘The letters, Nadia,’ I bit out, needing to know if I’d been writing to Alex all along, desperate to know if the man I thought knew me better than anyone only knew me because he was reading my deepest personal thoughts and reflections.

  ‘Can you stop being so selfish!’ she shouted, making my shoulders jump as I took a step back. ‘This book is my sister’s legacy! Her final book. The most important one she’s ever written! It’s dedicated to Elise and Alexander because she wanted to prepare them. Protect them from their grief.’

  ‘Did he write the letters?’ I whispered, wiping my tear with the back of my hand.

  ‘When Alexander read the unfinished manuscript for the first time, he knew he had to honour her memory. It’s taken him this long before he felt ready. Having the tree in the woods was his idea, can you believe that? How amazing is he?’ She was laughing to herself, looking to the ceiling and shaking her head in mock disbelief. I held onto the handrail at the top of the stairs to steady myself as a grimace replaced her smile. ‘But something good can come from something so dark. You don’t know how far he’s come, Natasha. He was a broken man. Devastated. I’ll let you in on a secret, one we’ve kept between us all this time. He was going to hang himself on that fucking tree!’ I clutched my hands to my mouth. ‘I could have lost him too! I could have found him there, too late to save him like he saved me. He’s my saviour, Natasha. He found me with a bottle of pills and he saved me.’ She clutched her chest. ‘We have a connection so deep that no one can come near it. Not even you.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I replied, swallowing a sob.

  ‘What are you sorry for?’ she asked, stepping closer. ‘You can’t be sorry that he found me in time. You can’t possibly be sorry that his wife was eaten alive by cancer! How could you? He wouldn’t be weak then, would he? Grief wouldn’t have led him to be tempted by you. To trash my sister’s memory. To take him away from me!’

  ‘I shouldn’t have come here,’ I said, turning to leave. Nadia followed me.

  ‘You’ll never compare, Natasha, you’ll always compete.’

  ‘With who? Lisa or you?’ I shot back.

  She lifted her head and her eyes were wide. Crazed even. ‘I’ll compete with her, Natasha, but I won’t compete with you.’ I nodded, finally getting confirmation that Nadia was battling with her feelings for Alex, patiently waiting for him to succumb to her when he was ready to move on and failing to believe that his affections would go somewhere else, away from her.

  ‘I love him,’ I replied, biting my lip.

  ‘He doesn’t love you!’ she shouted, a tear falling, the only visual clue that she was falling apart. ‘He only loves Lisa. I’ve lived in the shadow of their love for years. Do you want a life like that? C
onstantly competing? Always an empty chair at the table, her clothes still hanging in the wardrobe, memories too big to fade away?’

  ‘I wouldn’t let her be forgotten.’

  ‘Then let him go.’

  ‘To allow him to go to you?’

  ‘He doesn’t need to choose. I’ve made myself indispensable to him. Crucial. Vital to this family,’ she spat. ‘He needs me. Elise needs me. You’re nothing more than a disposable fuck.’

  ‘You know nothing about us!’

  ‘You know nothing about him,’ she said, moving closer to my face. ‘You think he knows you, cares for you? Gets you? It’s all based on fucking lies, Nat. After all,’ she said, smirking, her voice grainy and low. ‘Your Grief Fairy is closer than you think.’

  28

  Alex

  ‘We need to talk about the book launch.’

  ‘Not now, Nadia,’ I shot back, looking at the paperwork I was wading my way through. I’d put Eli to bed and had shut myself in my office for the rest of the night.

  ‘When? It’s releasing next week, and you still haven’t signed everything off.’

  ‘What do you think I’m doing now?’ I lifted the stack of papers as a visual clue.

  ‘It’s all so last minute. You seem…distracted. Like your heart isn’t in it anymore.’

  I was distracted. The need to get this book out wasn’t as potent anymore. I wished I’d never agreed to it. Something that started out as a legacy didn’t feel that way anymore. I was messing with people’s heads. Children who believed in a fairy who was full of light but was really a lying man, broken with grief and the need to ensure his daughter wasn’t in this spiral of pain alone. The book should have been kept for Eli, not thrown out to the world like this. All along Nadia was adamant that it was what Lisa would have wanted, and for a long time hearing those words would have made me do anything.

  She would have wanted this.

  I was starting to question if that were true.

  People I cared about were in the crossfire and the whispers of my guilt were strong.

  ‘Tell me the progress in the first steps of promotion.’