by Nina Manning
Hackett looks at me and nods his head. ‘Hello, hello,’ he says. I realise he may have physically aged, but he still has that childlike element about him. At the time, I didn’t understand what was wrong with him, I still don’t.
‘I presume you have told the coordinators about Hackett?’ I think back to Ava and her sixty-seventh guest.
‘Yes, yes, I added him at the beginning,’ Caitlin says.
‘Right. Then you need to get into the room now. Hackett, you need to be sat down.’ I find myself saying the last part slowly so he can understand better. But he just stands there, smiling.
‘Oh, no, Sasha, Hackett doesn’t need to sit down – he’ll be walking in with me. Hackett is giving me away!’ she says triumphantly, as though this were the best news I would hear all day.
‘Since when?’ I say, knowing I sound more alarmed than I should do. I wasn’t sure if it was the fact Caitlin had neglected to tell me, when she had shown very little interest in the wedding in the first place, that bothered me, or the unpredictability of Hackett being part of the wedding.
There is no bouquet of flowers for Caitlin to hold. And I had been worried she would feel exposed as she walked down the aisle because she had made it absolutely clear that her father would not be giving her away, but she had pushed away my concerns and doubts with a flick of the wrist. And now I know why. She knew she would always have Hackett’s arm to lean on. I tried to ignore the frustration bubbling up within me. This is so typically Caitlin.
‘But if you didn’t want to be alone, you could have had your dad? Why didn’t you ask your dad?’ I try not to sound hysterical even though I still allow Caitlin’s spontaneous behaviour to rile me up.
Caitlin just looks at me with her eyes wide and her head tilted downwards as though I had said the most ridiculous thing ever.
‘Okay, so why didn’t you choose Chuck’s dad?’ I say quietly through gritted teeth. Hackett pays no attention – he is still grinning inanely at Caitlin.
‘Tim? Why on earth would I choose him? He’s not family.’
‘And neither is Hackett,’ I say smartly. As much as Caitlin was so attached to Hackett as a child, I was always dubious of the relationship, and I couldn’t help but wonder why she spent so much of her time around him.
‘Oh, yes he is, dear Sasha. Hackett is very much family. He is my mother’s twin brother. Hackett is my uncle.’
26
Saxby House, Dorset, August 1990
I arrived back at the front of our family cottage. My heart was thumping in my mouth. I needed to get inside before my parents saw me. I probably looked a complete state with hair all messy and ruffled. No doubt my clothes would be covered in leaves and debris. It was hard to see in the dark, so I gave myself a quick brush down.
I stood in the shadows of the cottage and could see Ava was in the courtyard, and I could see Mum and Dad as well. Ava was carrying a torch and seemed agitated, the way she couldn’t quite stand still, whilst Mum and Dad were keeping her there, as they swooned about what a beautiful party it was and how grateful they were to her and Josephine for inviting her.
I tried to make a run for the front door, but Mum must have heard my feet crunch on the pebbles.
‘Sasha, there you are, we were looking for you. We’ve had enough, absolutely done in.’ Mum came forward and strained to see me in the dark.
Ava then turned and headed back in through the gates and towards the main house.
‘Oh bloody hell, what’s got into her? It’s supposed to be a party,’ Mum said as they made their way towards me. Dad was carrying Hunter on his back.
‘I’m busting for a wee!’ I shouted and ran towards the house, which was always left unlocked. Mum and Dad had become incredibly trusting and would never have left their house unlocked until we moved here.
I rushed into my bedroom and slammed the door shut.
What was an impulse decision, and in hindsight, one I was already regretting, would almost certainly put mine and my family’s life here at Saxby in jeopardy. And was it worth it for everything that had happened that evening? I would have to wait until the morning to find out.
I woke to the sound of Mum’s footsteps heading up the stairs and stopping outside my door.
‘Sasha.’ She knocked lightly.
‘Yes,’ I groaned. I had got into bed way past midnight but couldn’t sleep for hours. So I snuck downstairs and hid my clothes from the party in the washing machine where Mum had a wash on ready to go. They were worse than I thought – there was a huge mud patch on the leg of my trousers, which I had sprayed with stain remover to little effect before I stuffed it in the washing machine.
It must have been about 3 a.m. when I finally drifted off, dreaming of all the momentous things that had happened that night.
Mum opened the door, bringing in a stream of light with her. I shielded my eyes with my hands. Mum was carrying a steaming cup of tea.
‘Thought you might need this, love. I heard you get up three times last night. Did you not sleep well?’
‘No, must have been all that rich food and fizzy pop.’
Mum placed the mug down next to my bed.
‘Ah well, it’s not as if we do it every day now, is it? A splurge every now and again is worth it, hey?’
‘Yes.’
‘Madam’s in a right huff this morning. Told me a Japanese vase has gone missing.’
My heart leapt into my throat as I thought about the vase that sat in Ava’s study.
‘I looked at her and said, “I hope you aren’t implying that I took it.” She quickly changed her tune then, said, “Oh, no, Darcy, I would never imply such a thing.” Asked me to keep an eye out for it. And to mention it to you. The cheek. She reassured me it was just in case you might have seen something, or maybe that traveller friend of yours? Does she think anyone would be so bold as to walk into the house and steal a vase? Stealing is a sackable offence. I hope you know that, girl.’
‘Of course, Mum.’ I gulped. ‘I haven’t seen or touched a vase.’
‘I know, I know. I just couldn’t help but feel she was implying something. There was definitely some air of threat in her tone. And the way she was so adamant that I mention it to you too. I know you aren’t a thief, love. This family has always been straight down the line. Pity people like them still see us poorer folk as potential thieves. Gets my back up, it does.’
I started to feel a little light-headed.
Mum grabbed my hand. ‘You need to scrub those fingernails – what were you doing last night? Honestly, girl, didn’t I bring you up to have a little more care for your personal hygiene?’
I looked down at my fingernails, which were black with grit and dirt; I hadn’t noticed when I had gone to bed. I had let my family down colossally. I could never tell Mum what I did at the house last night. Or what happened afterwards. She would never understand my desire to know more about the Clemonte family and what secrets the old house held. The thing was, now I knew them, it no longer felt as exciting as it had done before. But I had made a deal with Ava last night. I would have to hold on to what I knew for the rest of my life and never tell a soul. Was that even possible? I would bury it for as long as we were living at Saxby. Then after that, who knew.
But for now, all I could see in my mind’s eye was the Japanese vase and the last place I had seen it the previous evening.
27
London, September 2009
The day of the wedding
* * *
I stand in front of Caitlin and Hackett before the closed double doors that lead into the suite where she is about to be wed. I know on the other side of the door is a room full of people all waiting to see Caitlin walk down the aisle. But would they be expecting to see Hackett walking along next to her? I am still reeling from the shock and I am desperately trying to calm my nerves. Of course, Ava is a twin; twins were strong in the family. But I am also angry. I put so much hard work into this wedding because I thought it was my duty to Caitlin to d
o so, but all the while, it seems the only reason she wants to get married is to upset Ava in front of as many people as possible. First with the dress and now having Hackett as the person giving her away.
I try to slow down my racing heart. I listen to Caitlin and Hackett laughing and goofing around behind me like a pair of kids. It all makes sense to me now, why Caitlin enjoyed spending time with Hackett. Her own father had never been there for her, so she turned to Hackett for affection. They had remained close all these years but, of course, Caitlin chose not to share any of this with me.
I hear the start of the song that Caitlin has selected to walk down the aisle to: The Kinks, ‘You Really Got Me’ – a favourite of both Caitlin and Chuck. When the double doors open, I feel the energy from the room hit me as everyone turns in their standing positions to welcome us down the aisle. Faces are staring at us from all angles, but the face I am searching for would be at the front of the room near the humanist who is hosting the ceremony. I look ahead of me and see Chuck standing to the right. He is wearing a light-blue suit and matching waistcoat, a white shirt and a purple dicky bow. I can see no sign of nerves; Chuck is jigging along to the song, occasionally letting his leg jut out to hit a beat. I want to smile, I want to laugh at the stupidity of it all, but there is such a dichotomy playing along in my brain: what I’ve planned to happen after the ceremony, the secret between Chuck and I, mine and Ava’s secret, Caitlin’s attempt to mock her own mother with the dress and now with Hackett. It all begins to feel too much and I wish I could put the brakes on for just a moment, but I need to power through to the reception.
Then I spot Oscar to my left. He is wearing a cotton pale grey suit and light-pink shirt. He looks so handsome and smart and has a huge smile plastered across his face, one that says he is overwhelmed by my outfit. I could be his bride walking down the aisle to meet him. I smile back at Oscar, and we share this telepathic romantic moment between us for a few seconds until I pass him. Maybe, I think, maybe when this is all over, I will feel ready to marry Oscar. I check over my shoulder to make sure Caitlin and Hackett are following, and they are. I have nothing in my hands, and I am cursing Caitlin under my breath for not agreeing to a small bouquet for me. I am trying to stop myself wringing my hands by placing one on top of the other in front of me.
I sense the change in the atmosphere as I reach the end of the aisle. Until now, Ava has not turned her head to look, as though turning it too early would cause too much strain. And so because of this, I get to see the entire metamorphosis of her expression, from a look of nonchalance to feigned interest, a brightening of her eyes in alignment with the rest of the congregation, to a flicker of doubt as she strains to look beyond me to where Caitlin is walking with Hackett. She nudges Maxwell, who is sat next to her, who hasn’t noticed, and it’s only when I reach the end of the aisle and stand to the left in front of her chair that Ava fully registers. I watch as a bleak expression spreads across her face. I steal a brief look behind me to see that Maxwell’s jaw has also dropped open slightly. He is wearing one of his classic bow ties – his style hasn’t changed in two decades. This was not who either of them were expecting the sixty-seventh guest to be.
I turn my attention to Caitlin, who has arrived next to me with Hackett by her side.
Hackett is holding on tightly to Caitlin’s hand. The humanist says something, and Hackett does an awkward literal handover of Caitlin to the humanist, a woman in her fifties with tightly curled permed hair, who takes Caitlin’s hands and thanks Hackett. He continues to stand there, not knowing what to do. I tug his jacket and tell him to sit next to me in the seats we have been allocated at the front.
Then finally I get to turn my attention to Chuck and Caitlin. I have not seen them in each other’s company recently, and before that they were an item so sporadically, I was never sure if they would ever get together properly. I would always watch them carefully whenever they were with one another and much more recently. There was an intimacy there of some sort, but it was never public displays of affection or declaration of love. For today, Caitlin had opted for simple vows: ‘I love your integrity, your humour. I love that I can trust you and depend on you.’
I feel a surge of heat rush through my body as Caitlin speaks her words. I’m not sure if its joy or relief. I try to look at both of their faces to see their expressions, but they are turned into one another, and all I can see is half of Chuck’s face. There is a twinkle in his eye as he speaks, but I can now see he is nervous; as he places the ring on Caitlin’s finger, his hand shakes slightly, but he instantly says something that makes both the humanist and Caitlin laugh. When the humanist says the words, ‘I now pronounce you man and wife,’ the room erupts into applause.
There is a band playing some soft, soulful music as everyone steadily flows into the reception room and people begin taking their seats. Oscar grabbed me on the way out of the ceremony and hasn’t left my side since. He keeps holding me at arm’s length and looking at me up and down. ‘My God, Sash. You’re gorgeous. I’m a bloody lucky guy.’ He doesn’t mention marriage, but I know he must be thinking about his proposal and the redundant ring in a box at home in a drawer. And in a way, I am grateful for the pleasant distraction, but I also know it will be short-lived. It is almost time.
One thing I am unsure of is why Hackett was banished from normal family activity all those years ago and made to work on the estate instead. I am just about working it out, and as I do, I glance at the clock on the wall; the time is almost midday. I want to check my phone, which I grabbed along with my clutch bag from behind the reception desk as we left the ceremony. I think back to any interactions between Hackett and the Clemonte family, and I barely remember any. But the one event that stands firmly in my mind was the New Year’s dinner when the electricity failed and I saw Hackett’s face at the window. Thinking back now, I wonder if Hackett did it on purpose, and if he harboured any anger towards the family who excluded him.
I watch Caitlin make her way around the room and for a woman who has such strong opinions about clichés at her wedding, she seems to be basking in the attention of others, who are swooning over her dress. I think about Ava, who will be reeling from the shock of Caitlin’s dress of choice and Hackett at her side.
Oscar finally feels able to leave my side and heads off in search of a couple of glasses of fizz for us, even though that’s the last thing I feel like. My stomach is gurgling from the lack of food, and the nerves that were on hold during the ceremony are building once again.
Returning triumphant, Oscar makes it back with two glasses of fizz and then his phone rings. He pulls it out of his pocket.
‘Shit, I didn’t know that was on! Lucky it didn’t ring during the service.’ He pulls the phone to his ear, turns away from me and starts a jarred conversation with whoever is on the other end.
‘What? Hang on, Jon, I can’t hear you properly.’ He turns back. ‘Babe, I’m going to pop outside. It’s Jon – he’s started the Morris job today, and there’s a balls-up already.’
I wave him away. ‘It’s fine. I’ll be here.’
He plants a quick kiss on my cheek and walks away.
I watch the room for a while. A few people glide past me, and some stop and discuss how pleasant the ceremony was, they compliment me on my dress and tell me how much they are looking forward to the wedding breakfast. Once I have done this conversation to death, I sink into a chair and reach into my clutch bag for my phone. Still no missed calls or messages; I’m no longer sure if that’s a good thing. The Hackett incident is playing on my mind. I try not to let myself feel sorry for Caitlin, but I naturally do. She longed for a father figure for so long, and she found it in Hackett.
I feel the presence of someone behind me, and I look up and see Ava standing next to the table. She has come in a simple dusty-grey dress with an embroidered bodice, pinched at the waist with a flowing skirt. A rather understated dress, there is no mother-of-the-bride look about her; she could just be another guest.
/> ‘May I sit?’ she asks and I nod.
‘Caitlin seems happy.’ Ava looks around the room. I notice a slight shimmer on her cheekbone as she moves her head and the light catches it.
‘Have you ever really cared for Caitlin’s happiness?’ I ask Ava sincerely.
Ava clears her throat and looks at me. ‘Whatever you may think you know about me, Sasha, I can honestly say that you are wrong. Things are always more complicated than they really seem. What you think you saw amongst those photos—’
‘Wrong? How can I be wrong?’ I cut Ava off. ‘I know what I saw at Saxby all those years ago. I know how you treat people – look at how you have treated your own brother for so long! You’re a disgrace,’ I hiss. ‘You never wanted Caitlin and I to be friends, and you marred our relationship as a result. Caitlin was never able to truly commit herself to me as a friend, and she struggles deeply with intimacy. And it’s all because of you. You’re no mother. Should you even be here today?’ I say, and as I look towards the double doors, my stomach begins a series of somersaults. They are early. I wasn’t expecting them until after the meal.
Ava follows my gaze. There are two women standing in the doorway, and one of them Ava recognises immediately, I can see it in her eyes, but she doesn’t flinch or show any emotion. She remains still and stunned.
I compose myself, and turn to Ava. ‘Are you okay, Ava? I hope you don’t mind, I invited one more guest to the wedding.’
28
Saxby House, Dorset, August 1990
Chuck came and found me later that afternoon, when I was sitting out the front of our cottage. I didn’t want to be anywhere near the main house, but I knew if I waited here long enough, someone would surely come and find me. I was glad it was Chuck. I felt sick at what I had done last night, and I needed to talk to someone about it. I knew Chuck was the only one who could understand.
