My Mother's Silence (ARC)

by Lauren Westwood

  ‘She did love you,’ Mum says. She rubs her eyes as if clearing away a fog. ‘But she didn’t want the same things as you.’

  ‘She wanted a normal life,’ I say. ‘I see that now. A husband, and a child. I was the one who acted like that wasn’t good enough. That this place wasn’t good enough.’ I sigh. ‘It never even crossed my mind.’

  ‘Oh, Skye…’ Mum breaks down sobbing. I take her into my arms, comforting her like a child.

  ‘It’s all my fault. I told her to go to the party,’ Mum says. ‘To talk to James. If she hadn’t…’

  ‘And you told me to bring her home. I didn’t do that. And Byron…’ My anger flares. ‘He should have stepped up, taken responsibility.’

  ‘And Ginny never should have been out on those rocks.’ She hangs her head. ‘It all comes down to that.’

  ‘We can’t go on like this,’ I say. ‘We have to accept that she’s gone. But we’re still alive. And Ginny wouldn’t want us to be grieving after all this time. She would have hated that, Mum. She would have wanted us to keep her alive in our hearts, but not the rest. She’d want us to be strong. To… heal.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Mum says. She wipes her eyes, her energy clearly spent. ‘All this time, I couldn’t let go. But you’re right. It’s time. It’s… for the best.’

  I pick up her cane for her and help her into her room. ‘I’m sorry about so many things, Skye,’ she says. ‘I never should have made you feel that you were to blame – that’s my biggest regret. And I should have told you the truth. But it all just hurt so much.’ She sighs. ‘In a way, I appreciate what Byron tried to do,’ she says. ‘Making up that story. I hated him for a while when I found out that it was all lies. But he was right in a way. It was so much better when I thought her death was an accident. To think that she might have… well. It’s been terrible ever since.’

  ‘I understand,’ I say. The fact that Ginny might have taken her own life has thrown me off-kilter too. ‘But remember, Mum, we don’t know that it wasn’t an accident.’ I sigh. ‘And I guess we’ll never know for sure.’

  ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘You’re right. All we can do is put it behind us. Be a family and appreciate what we have.’ She squeezes my hand. ‘I’m glad you’ve come back.’

  ‘Me too, Mum.’ I’m surprised at how true it is. ‘And I’m sorry I stayed away so long.’ I sit on her bed as she gets under the duvet, lacing our fingers together. ‘That I was a coward.’

  ‘You’re the bravest person I know,’ Mum says. ‘Don’t forget that. I feel that my head is clearer now that we’ve talked it through.’

  ‘That’s great, Mum.’ Brave or not, my eyes fill with tears.

  ‘Now, off to bed with you,’ she says. ‘It’s only a few days till Christmas. There’s so much to do.’

  ‘Yes, Mum, there always is.’

  ‘Now that we’re together as a family again, I’m looking forward to it.’

  ‘Me too,’ I say.

  I kiss her goodnight and Mum smiles up at me. I see love in her eyes, and pride. For a brief shimmering moment, everything seems worth it. Seems like enough.

  But as I go back to my room, I think of Ginny’s bracelet, I think of Nick Hamilton. I’ll go over to Skybird tomorrow. Tell Nick that we’re fine, and that he should stop looking into Ginny’s death. Send the file back. Forget the whole thing.

  I only hope that it’s not too late.

  40

  The next day, Mum is as brisk and spry as I’ve seen her. She talks to me at breakfast, even smiling a little. I know now that it was the right thing to do to get everything out in the open, and I feel glad that I finally had the courage to do so.

  Mum is doing a crossword and I’m finishing the washing-up when there’s a knock at the door. She begins getting to her feet but I stop her. ‘I’ll get it,’ I say.

  It’s Nick. His car is outside, the motor still running. His face is that of the steely cop. All my hopes shatter to pieces. Mum levers herself to her feet and comes slowly to the door.

  ‘Skye,’ he says. He looks past me. ‘Good morning, Mrs Turner.’

  ‘Nicholas,’ Mum says. ‘Is something wrong with the cottage?’ She frowns. ‘Is the heating working; you have enough wood?’

  Nick gives me a quick glance.

  ‘The cottage is fine, Mrs Turner. No worries. I wanted to have a word with Skye.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Mum’s hand holding the cane begins to shake a little. ‘Would you like to come in? Have a cup of tea? Or there’s coffee?’

  ‘Another time, maybe,’ he says. ‘Skye, are you free now? For a few hours.’

  Mum’s face blooms into a smile. ‘Of course. You two should go. Have a good time together.’

  I’m glad that Mum has misinterpreted Nick’s reasons for being here. I put on my coat and wrap a scarf around my neck. ‘I’m ready,’ I say.

  ‘Would you like some sandwiches? A flask of coffee?’ Mum seems desperate for this to be a social call, as if she already senses that it’s not.

  ‘I’ve got coffee and food,’ Nick says. ‘We’ll be fine, Mrs Turner.’

  Mum looks hopeful and worried, and I want to take her in my arms and tell her that everything is going to be fine. But everything is not fine. I asked Nick to look at Ginny’s file for selfish reasons, I see that now: I was hurt and angry, and desperate to put my own guilt behind me. And now, Mum too will have to bear the consequences of my decision. Whatever they may be.

  ‘Goodbye, Mum.’ I give her a kiss on the cheek. ‘I’ll see you later.’

  ‘Yes… um… have a good time.’

  I don’t reply as I go out the door.

  Nick opens the passenger door of the car and I get inside. Kafka is in the boot and gives a welcoming yelp when he sees me. ‘Hey, mate,’ I say, wishing I could match his enthusiasm. But all I feel is trepidation as Nick gets into the car. Only a few days ago, I was lying on a rug in front of the fire, daring to dream of what could be. Now, though, I feel ashamed of the memory. He seems a total stranger.

  ‘What is it?’ I say as we’re driving out of the yard. ‘What did you find out?’

  ‘Nothing yet.’ His voice is matter-of-fact. ‘Just that it’s about the worst investigation I’ve ever come across. I’ve spent two days making enquiries. Trying to get to the bottom of one or two key things that were overlooked. No one has been particularly helpful.’

  ‘That doesn’t surprise me.’ I take out a tissue and dab away a rogue tear.

  ‘Hey,’ he says. He reaches out to touch my cheek. ‘It’s going to be OK.’

  I turn away. Neither of us know that.

  When we’re through the gate, Nick turns onto the main road. Towards the ‘scene’.

  ‘Everything you said about people’s statements has borne out,’ he said. ‘The timings are all vague, and no one saw anything, other than those idiot twins. I spoke to them by phone. They were very reluctant to talk. However, they stuck to their statements. As they would. As for the investigation itself, there wasn’t anything untoward, unless you count the fact that it was led by Byron’s godfather.’ He gives a snort. ‘Inspector McVee – sadly deceased – has a brother called Greg, who’s married to a woman called Annie MacClellan. Whom I believe you know.’

  ‘“Aunt Annie”.’ I struggle to make all the connections. ‘You beat her other half at snooker.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess we’re all mates now.’ His voice is full of sarcasm.

  ‘Isn’t that odd?’

  ‘McVee was the senior officer on duty. He definitely went the extra mile to make sure this one was wrapped up quickly and efficiently. Open and shut. Technically, the case is still “open” because the body wasn’t found. But obviously, it’s not an active police file.’

  ‘So there’s nothing else to find?’ I’m not sure why I feel quite so disappointed.

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  By the time we reach the treacherous single-track road out to the lighthouse, Nick has regaled me with almost a dozen thin
gs that should have been followed up at the time, but weren’t.

  ‘The search area was by the book,’ he says, slowing down to let a flock of sheep move off the road. ‘They searched the immediate area of the lighthouse and the cliffs.’

  ‘Where else should they have searched?’ I say. I feel a little nauseous even asking the question.

  ‘That’s what I’m hoping we can find out,’ Nick says. ‘And there are one or two other points that I’m hoping to clear up too.’ He frowns. ‘About the car, and your crash.’

  ‘Oh…’ I grip the side handle of the door, hoping he doesn’t elaborate.

  Eventually, we reach the place where I crashed. There are two vehicles parked in passing places. One is a police SUV and the other an estate car with a dog grate in the back. Nick stops with the car still running. He gets out and has a quick word with two men sitting on the tailgate of the SUV, a topographical map spread out before them. I recognise Nick’s mate DS Paterson. The other man is older, and he’s got a German shepherd on a lead. As Nick comes back to the car, he stops at the back door and lets Kafka out. Kafka barks and runs over to the other dog where there’s a playful reunion of fake biting and bum sniffing.

  Nick comes back to the car and gets inside.

  ‘Who are they?’ I ask, my trepidation increasing.

  ‘Mates. You’ve met Alain, and Rich is my old boss, retired now. I had to call them in to keep it official. They’re looking at the area of the crash. They’ve been combing the area since early this morning. Bull – that’s the other dog – is specially trained.’

  ‘For what?’

  Nick doesn’t answer.

  ‘It’s been fifteen years,’ I press, dread thickening in my mind. ‘What evidence do they think they’ll find?’

  ‘We’re just trying to get a complete picture. You said that you think you saw a person running across the road following the crash. And the file confirms that the bracelet was found in the car.’ He frowns again. ‘The keys, however, were not.’

  ‘What?’ I stare at him. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Nick says. ‘And obviously we can’t rely on your memories alone. But there may still be circumstantial evidence. I want to recreate as nearly as possible what happened that night. Walk through it. Find out who was where and reconstruct the possible scenarios.’

  I laugh bitterly. ‘Option A and Option B, right?’

  ‘What’s that?’ He frowns.

  ‘Never mind.’ I look away.

  ‘Or we can stop this right now. If that’s what you want.’

  Option C. I really ought to go with Option C.

  ‘No.’ I swallow hard. ‘I want to keep going. It’s just, I didn’t really think this through. How it would affect me, and Mum, and everyone involved. I do want to know the truth – but maybe that’s just me being selfish.’

  ‘If we don’t find anything, then your mum doesn’t need to know. That’s why I called in the people I did. I trust them to keep it all off the record. But maybe…’ he hesitates ‘… maybe I was the one being selfish. I wanted you to know that I was taking it seriously.’

  ‘I appreciate that.’

  He leans in to kiss me. I turn away.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he says. His eyes, though, tell a different story. Confusion, regret, a touch of anger. I don’t blame him, but it’s as if an invisible wall has sprung up between us. Crushing the green shoots that had started to spring up.

  He begins driving again. In a few minutes, we reach the end of the single-track road where it narrows between huge boulders on the way up to the lighthouse. He parks next to the fallen wind turbine.

  There are two other vehicles already there. A Nissan and a Land Rover.

  Even from a distance I can see two figures standing near the picnic tables below the lighthouse. One big and fair, one shorter and ginger. I feel a surge of anger.

  ‘What are they doing here?’ I say.

  ‘Helping with enquiries,’ Nick says. ‘At least, Lachlan is being helpful. Byron, not so much.’

  ‘You should have told me.’ I don’t look at him.

  I get out of the car into the shocking wind. The weather is worse today than it was when I was here last time. But when I think of Ginny’s last journal entries, I’m heated by a deep internal rage.

  ‘You!’ I scream out over the wind. Lachlan turns. Raises his hand. Byron stays put, staring out to sea. To the burial place of my sister, his lover, and his unborn child. My hair lashes my face as I go to him. He turns as I reach him. I punch against his chest. He doesn’t try to stop me.

  ‘How could you!’ I shout. ‘How could you do what you did? To me. And… to her.’

  He grabs my wrists. His hands are warm. ‘It was a mistake,’ he said. ‘It was never meant to happen.’

  ‘Poor you!’ I give him a final shove. I’m half-aware of Lachlan standing well-within earshot, and Nick at a distance. I don’t care about either one of them – any of them.

  ‘She wanted to get rid of… the baby,’ he said. ‘I gave her money for the coach fare and helped arrange for my aunt Ellen to help her out. Because that’s what she wanted. I’d no idea until that night that she’d changed her mind. That she wanted to keep it. I was surprised when she told me – in the car as soon as we got here.’

  ‘She loved you, and instead of standing by her, you told her where to go,’ I shout. ‘You told my pregnant sister that it was nothing to do with you. That she was nothing to you.’

  ‘She was nothing to me! Don’t you see that?’ Byron’s eyes are as injured as they are angry. ‘I loved you. But you were leaving. I felt so… awful. About betraying you, but most of all about losing you.’

  ‘Oh, please!’

  ‘It’s the truth.’ He turns away.

  ‘And you…’ I turn to Lachlan coldly. ‘You knew.’

  Lachlan looks at Byron, then at me, his eyes hostile. ‘Your sister made me sick, frankly,’ he said. ‘The way she was throwing herself at him. He wasn’t interested in her, but she wouldn’t leave him alone. “Byron can you help fix the car?” “Byron do you want some sandwiches for the boat?” “Let’s go for a picnic,” “a swim”.’ His voice is high and mocking. I feel like slapping him.

  ‘You deserved better,’ he says. ‘Better than her.’

  I take a step towards him. ‘And where was I when all this was going on?’

  ‘Working. Writing your songs. In your mind you were already gone.’

  Nick comes up to us. ‘Skye,’ he says, putting a hand on my arm. ‘Can I get you to retrace your steps. Starting down at the beach where the others—’

  ‘Leave me alone.’ I throw off his hand and turn to walk away. Then, I start to run. I go past the cars to the other side of the lighthouse and down the rocky path to the jetty. My blood is surging, my pulse thrumming in my skull. The rage is what keeps me going, a reminder that I’m human and that there’s a thin line between life and death. I go onto the concrete slab, past the barrier and out onto the rocks. A wave booms before me, soaking me with icy spray. This is where Ginny went that night. She was hurt, angry, just like I am now. I can see her there, the girl on the cliffs. The beam of the lighthouse pulsing against the cloud-dappled sky, her hair a halo, like a dark angel. The bracelet I made her glints in the darkness as she stretches her arms out. She removes her scarf, lets the wind catch it, blowing it into the sea.

  She came down here because she was upset. She wanted to get away from the others. Have some time apart to sort through her feelings. And then… I came up behind her, shattering her thoughts. Angry with her in my own right, telling her that I was going to take her home. She fell into her old familiar patterns. Taunting me. Getting me to come and rescue her. To take her hand, pull her back from the brink. And only then, would everything be all right.

  Except this time, I turned away. Walked away. I broke the pattern. This is not how she’d expected it to end…

  I go out onto the fur
thest rock. Below, the sea is wild and roiling. Waves crash against the rocks drenching me with spray. This is where she stood. I close my eyes, and for the first time in fifteen years my mind explodes like a firework, the memories showering down with the spray.

  ‘Stop, wait,’ my sister yells.

  I keep walking.

  ‘Don’t go.’

  I keep my back to her. ‘I’ve had enough, Ginny. Enough of you manipulating me. It’s time you started looking after yourself. I’m leaving Eilean Shiel. And you can stay, or go… I don’t care any more.’

  ‘Come on, Skye. Don’t be that way.’

  ‘Go to hell.’

  ‘Please. Let’s just… go home.’

  I turn. I look at my sister. So beautiful. So fragile. She needs me, but nowhere near as much as I need her. She’s half of who I am.

  ‘Fine.’ I let out a long sigh. ‘Let me go back and tell the others.’

  ‘No.’ She laughs then, clear and bell-like. ‘Let them sweat a little.’

  She tosses her jumper onto the rocks.

  I roll my eyes. ‘Stop messing around. Let’s just go.’

  I walk slowly back up the path cut into the rocks. My sister is beside me, where she should be. We’ll leave this place and everything will be fine. We’ll leave Eilean Shiel and start our new life.

  A dark figure is standing on the viewing platform above. Lachlan. God, he’s so creepy. Sometimes I feel like he’s stalking me. A girl comes up to him, takes his hand, leads him off. Better her than me.

  ‘Give me the keys.’

  ‘What?’ I look at Ginny in surprise.

  ‘You’ve been drinking. I’ll drive.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Why not?’ She shrugs. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  I toss her the keys.

  It feels strange to be in the passenger seat. Strange and uneasy. But I’m relieved to be out of the wind. Relieved that Ginny is off those damn rocks. She drives down the dark, winding road. I sit back. I’m just… relieved. ‘Six weeks,’ I say aloud. ‘Six weeks and we’ll be gone.’

  ‘I really hate you sometimes.’