As they drove out of the airport car park fifteen minutes later, Austin looked over at her. She was now wearing black cotton trousers and a white linen shirt. She was very pale. He saw dark shadows under her eyes. ‘You okay, Harold?’
She shook her head then turned to him. ‘Did you know the truth, Austin?’
‘How could I have known?’
‘You were older. You might have heard them talking. Mum and Gloria. Mum and Dad.’
‘Do you think Dad knew?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Maybe he didn’t. I never heard them talking about it. Not once.’
‘Why wouldn’t Mum have told us the truth?’
‘Gloria said she wanted to protect Lara.’
There was a long pause. ‘What else don’t we know about them, Austin? About our family?’
‘A thousand things, probably.’
They were quiet as he drove west through the winding roads towards Clonakilty. They’d gone straight from the airport grounds into countryside, past a topiary airplane perched on a roundabout outside the airport, onto a busy road beside fields lush with growth. For a time their route followed the path of a slow-moving river, edged by woods. They passed stone bridges, road signs in Irish and English, B&Bs and country pubs. The fields and the countryside looked wilder than the scenery in Devon and Cornwall. Another time Harriet would have loved looking around. She had grown up seeing posters of Ireland on the walls of the travel agency. She barely saw it now. There was too much to think about.
Austin needed to talk. He didn’t like the thoughts that were filling his head when it was quiet. He glanced over at Harriet. ‘So how did the rest of the tour go?’
‘Good, thanks.’
‘Patrick Shawcross managed to keep his hands off you?’
‘No, Austin, he didn’t.’
‘Sorry?’
Harriet wasn’t looking at him. ‘No, he didn’t keep his hands off me. I didn’t want him to.’
‘Are you joking?’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘So what’s happening?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Are you going to see him again?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘That’s it? The cad.’
She turned to him then. ‘He’s not a cad, Austin. He’s not a hunk or a cad.’
‘If he’s disappeared on you, he is a cad.’
‘He didn’t disappear. I disappeared.’
‘You have to watch out for men like that, Harriet. Ones that take advantage of—’
‘Shut up, Austin.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I mean it. I love you but shut up and mind your own business.’
‘You love me but you also want me to shut up. Sounds like mixed messages to me, Harold.’
She lost her temper. ‘Can you please stop joking for one minute? You’ve always done that. Tried to turn serious things into a laughing matter and sometimes it’s wrong, Austin. Sometimes serious things have to be serious.’
‘I see.’ There was a pause. He started tapping the steering wheel. What had happened the past few days? Gloria going for him. Nina turning him down. James surprising him. And now Harriet attacking him as well. He had an uneasy feeling all those people couldn’t be wrong. ‘I suppose I could try not to joke all the time.’
‘And could you please stop tapping too. Your tapping drives me crazy sometimes. It drives all of us crazy.’
‘You’re certainly firing on all cylinders today, Harold.’
‘I’m sorry. I needed to say it.’
‘That’s fine. It’s no problem.’ He paused. ‘So I won’t joke and I won’t tap for a little while, either.’
They were quiet for a minute, then Harriet turned to him again. ‘And if you ever tweak my nose again I swear I will punch you in the face.’
Austin nodded. ‘Mental note. No tweaking of Harold’s nose ever again, either.’
‘And stop calling me Harold.’
‘Talk about the mouse that roared.’
‘I mean it, Austin.’
He glanced over. ‘I can see that, Harriet.’
She said nothing.
He couldn’t resist it. ‘Harriet the Chariot.’
She ignored him.
At Bristol Airport, Patrick Shawcross was standing at the airline desk.
The middle-aged woman in front of him ran her fingers across the keyboard. As she waited for the information to come up on the screen, she glanced at him. Did she know him from somewhere? He looked vaguely familiar. She mentally noted how blue his eyes were. Contact lens? No, he didn’t look the type. If he was that vain, he would have dyed some of the grey she could see in those black curls. And he’d probably cut those black curls shorter too.
She glanced at the screen as the flight details appeared. ‘Yes, sir, there are seats available on that flight. Will I go ahead and make the booking?’
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘You’re welcome, sir.’ If only all her customers were so decisive.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
It took Austin and Harriet just under an hour to reach Clonakilty. The house was outside the town. He had detailed directions from the property company. They took a road to the right before the town entrance, drove on for five miles, then took a left turn onto a long hilly lane. They were surrounded by green fields, bordered by overgrown hedges and gorse bushes, small buds of yellow flowers visible here and there. The roads were narrow. Austin had to pull over sharply twice when another car appeared. The land was lush, the trees covered in new spring growth. There were black-and-white cows in some of the fields.
The house was on its own, set back from the road. Compact, modern, painted yellow. Two half-barrels of flowers stood on either side of the front door. A carved wooden sign on the right-hand post said Glen View. A small silver car was in the driveway.
Austin pulled into the side of the road about twenty feet beyond the gate. They sat there.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked.
Harriet nodded. They didn’t know what they would find. Lara, in floods of tears. Distraught. Or something worse.
They got out, closed their doors as quietly as possible. The gravel in the driveway sounded loud under their feet.
There was lavender among the flowers in the barrels by the front door. The scent was strong. Clean and sharp. Austin knocked once, twice, three times. Harriet stood back a little way. She realised she was holding her breath.
They could see Lara’s silhouette through the glass panels. She opened the door and looked at them both. She didn’t speak.
She looked immaculate. Her shoulder-length hair was tied back in a neat ponytail at the nape of her neck. She was wearing jeans and a pale blue T-shirt. Her feet were bare. Harriet remembered then, incongruously, that Lara often went barefoot. She always had painted toenails, too. She glanced down. Lara’s toenails were bright red.
‘Austin. Harriet.’ She didn’t smile, or sound surprised.
Austin spoke. ‘Can we come in?’
She hesitated for only a second. ‘Yes.’
They followed her into the living area. It was open plan, a bright lounge area leading onto a kitchen, large windows looking out into the green fields. A herd of cows was making its way back from milking in a long line, one after another like toy animals.
Harriet was uneasy. Lara hadn’t expressed surprise to see them. She was almost too calm. Harriet wondered if she had taken tablets. Lara didn’t seem to be sedated. Her eyes were clear. Harriet looked again. It wasn’t calmness. Lara was icy, she realised. And angry. Very angry.
Lara turned, crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. ‘You both suddenly felt like a trip to Ireland?’
Austin answered. ‘We’ve been looking for you. We’ve been very worried.’
‘Have you? I’m sorry about that. How did the Willoughby tour go, Harriet?’
She swallowed. ‘Fine. It went fine.’
‘That’s good.’
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Harriet and Austin exchanged a glance. In the kitchen behind her they could see she had been cooking. There was a chopping board, several large ripe tomatoes, and a strong smell of basil.
Austin spoke again. ‘Lara, are you all right?’
‘I’m fine, thank you.’
‘Do you know where you are?’
‘Yes, thank you, Austin. I’m in Cork. I also know I’m in the house where my mother killed my father and then killed herself, if that’s what you were wondering.’
Harriet couldn’t help herself. She took a step back.
Lara noticed. ‘So if you’ve come to break some news to me, you’re a bit late. I found out for myself.’
‘We didn’t know, Lara,’ Austin said.
‘No? No more lies, thanks, Austin.’
‘We didn’t. We didn’t know until yesterday.’
Lara didn’t say anything.
‘He’s telling the truth, Lara.’ Harriet spoke then.
‘Of course he is.’
Austin tried again. ‘Lara, I swear. We didn’t know.’
‘I don’t believe you. You must have known. There is no way you couldn’t have known.’
‘We didn’t. Mum told us it was a car crash too. She came into the lounge. We were watching Gilligan’s Island on the TV.’ It seemed important to Harriet that she give all the detail.
Austin nodded. ‘She said she had bad news, that your parents had been killed in a car crash in Ireland. That’s all we ever knew.’
‘Penny told you it was a car crash?’
Austin and Harriet nodded.
‘But she knew it wasn’t. I spoke to the sergeant at Clonakilty police station. The same man who rang the Australian police that night. He told them exactly what had happened. Every detail of it. He told me what he had told them. What they would have told Penny.’
‘That might be true. But she didn’t tell us.’
Lara’s expression changed. The anger was giving way to something else. Uncertainty. She turned her gaze to Austin. ‘Did Neil know the truth?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Harriet?’
‘I’m sorry, Lara, I don’t know either.’
Austin tried again. ‘All we know is how hard it must have been for you to find out.’
Lara went icy again. ‘Do you? How do you know that?’
‘Because we’ve just found out too,’ he said. ‘Because we’ve had a shock too. Because you are my sister and when something bad happens to my sister, to either of my sisters, I feel it too. So I know, not as bad, I’ll never know that, but I have an idea how it must feel for you.’
‘And you, Harriet?’
‘I’m just as shocked. It’s terrible, Lara.’
‘What’s terrible, Harriet? The fact it happened or the fact I was lied to?’
‘We were all lied to, Lara,’ Austin said softly.
‘But why? Why would your mother lie to me? To you as well? That’s what I can’t understand. I’ve spent the past five days trying to understand all the lies.’
‘I think Gloria knows why.’
Lara turned to Austin. ‘Gloria?
‘She knew the truth as well. She told me yesterday. She said Mum had made her promise not to tell anyone.’
‘She’s known for twenty-four years?’
‘She hated knowing, Lara. She didn’t like being the secret keeper. She was angry about it. She thought Mum made a big mistake. Gloria said to say that to you. To say sorry. And to tell you we love you.’
Lara stayed still.
Harriet needed to help. ‘Mum would have done it for good reasons, Lara. She loved you very much. So did Dad. I’m sure of that. I think she must have wanted to protect you. To make it easier for you.’
‘Make what easier?’
‘You joining our family. Coming to live with us. Coming to Merryn Bay.’
‘Building it on lies? How would that make it easier?’
‘It wasn’t built on lies. It was built on love. She loved you, right from the start. I know she did.’
‘How do you know?’
Harriet hesitated. ‘Because I could see that she did. That they both did.’
Lara made a dismissive noise.
Harriet made herself say it. ‘Because I remember feeling jealous of you.’
‘Jealous of what?’
‘Their love for you. The attention they gave you. And how sure you seemed of them, of yourself.’ She felt a tightness around her chest. This was too big, too raw, happening too quickly. It wasn’t what they were here to talk about. She could feel Austin staring at both of them, confused.
‘Sure of myself?’ Lara gave a short laugh. ‘You have no idea, Harriet. I spent my entire childhood feeling completely terrified.’
‘When you came to live with us?’
‘To begin with, yes. But before then, too. When it was me and Mum and Dad.’
Austin spoke. ‘Did your parents hurt you, Lara?’
‘Physically? No.’ Lara was quiet for a long time. ‘My father used to say cruel things to my mother, and she’d get upset, throw things at him. She used to cry all the time, tell me how much she loved him, how he meant the world to her. That she couldn’t live without him. She’d sleep for days or she’d start drinking, or we’d have to go in search of him. I always knew I was second best. She said she loved me. But she loved him more.’
Austin and Harriet stayed quiet. They had never heard Lara speak about her parents before. She was talking quickly, but she wasn’t looking at either of them.
‘I never knew what was happening. He kept leaving. I’d get taken out of school and we would pack up and try to find him. We always did and she would always beg him to come back. Plead with him or scream at him. Make me stand there and say he had to come back because of me. And sometimes he would but not straightaway. So we would live in some guesthouse until it suited him to come home with us.’ She gave that laugh again. ‘So was I sure of myself as a child? No, Harriet. I was never that. I was scared.’
Harriet needed to hear more. ‘You weren’t scared of us, though, were you? Scared of my mother and father?’
‘I loved your mother and father. And that made it worse. I felt like a fraud. I felt like a fraud when I came to stay the first time and I felt like a fraud every year on those memorial days your mother wanted me to have. Because the truth was I didn’t want to remember my parents. I was glad I was living with your family. I liked it much more than I had liked living with my own. I did love my mother, but I couldn’t fix things for her. I knew she was unhappy but I didn’t know what to do about it. When I came to stay with you that first time, and then Mum and Dad came and got me, do you remember? After a couple of days? Mum had a black eye.’
Harriet and Austin nodded.
Lara seemed deep in the memory. ‘It wasn’t an accident with a tree. They’d had a huge fight the week before and he had thrown something at her. A book, I think. Something that caught her eye, made it swell up. She’d thrown it straight back at him, thrown glasses and cups, a bottle of wine, anything she could get her hands on. They were always like that. I thought that’s how things were for everyone and then I met your parents and they were nice to each other. And you were all nice to each other. There was no shouting or fighting. I remember thinking, stay as quiet as you can, Lara. Be as good as you can. If you stay still, don’t make a fuss, you might be able to stay for longer.’
Harriet remembered. She had seen it as Lara being so self-contained. Distant.
‘All I wanted to do was be as quiet and polite as I could be and then maybe I could stay with your family for a long time. All the sheets smelt so good, and you probably don’t even remember this, Harriet, but you let me sleep by the window. And I knew that was your bed, and I knew I should have said no, but I loved the idea of being by the window like that, all fresh and clean, and with all the books on the windowsill. I pretended it was all mine, the bedroom, the books. I pretended that your mother was mine, and your father was mi
ne, and that something had happened to my mum and dad, and that I had come to live with your family.’ Tears were forming in Lara’s eyes. ‘And then three months later, I was back. Because something had happened to my mother and father. And I thought I had made it happen. I thought I had killed them. That my wish had come true. I kept getting nightmares, that I had wished it on them, because I had admitted to myself that I didn’t want to live with them any more.’
‘But you didn’t make it happen. It was a car cra—’ Harriet stopped herself. It hadn’t been a car crash.
‘I thought I had. In my mind I made them have the car crash. Except now I know it wasn’t that, either. My mother killed my father and then killed herself. She chose to do both those things. So now I can’t take the blame, I suppose. Because they didn’t want to be with me either.’
Harriet wanted to move to her, to hug her. But that wasn’t how it was between her and Lara. She stayed still and kept listening. Austin was just as quiet beside her.
‘I told Penny how I felt. How guilty I was. She told me again and again that they didn’t die because of me. Yet all that time she must have known what had really happened.’ A long pause. ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to reconcile in my head. I’ve been going over and over it. I can’t understand why Penny said what she did, why she lied to me. All my life.’
Harriet had been trying to understand it herself. She had thought about it all night. About her mother. The way she liked everyone to be good and kind. The way she had never liked to face up to the bad things in life. She had overheard her and Gloria arguing good-naturedly about it over the years. It had been a laughing matter sometimes. But it had its serious side as well. She needed to try to explain.
She spoke softly. ‘Lara, maybe Mum didn’t know how to tell you, how to give you such terrible news. I don’t know how it feels to be a mother. Maybe all you want to do is look after people, and protect them and love them and keep them from harm. And you keep everything bad away from them that you can. I think that’s what Mum tried to do with you.’
‘That’s not true, Harriet. It can’t be true. What about my mother? She didn’t want to do any of those things for me, did she? She didn’t care what happened to me. Not for a minute.’
Family Baggage Page 39
