The Moon is Missing: a novel

by Jenni Ogden

  “It does seem to be.”

  “I bet Mom was surprised when you reappeared in her life.”

  “I didn’t tell her who I was. I didn’t want to remind her of Danny.”

  “It never really disappears, does it?” Leroy murmured. “That thought that he is still here, somewhere. That he’ll appear any minute; walk through the door with his crooked smile and light up the room.”

  I saw my own grief reflected in Leroy’s dark eyes. “I’ll never forgive myself for Danny's death. Never. You have to know that.” My voice was barely more than a whisper, but I could see Leroy tensing.

  “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just one of those terrible tragedies that we pray never happens to us.”

  “It was my fault. We had a dreadful argument and then he ran out in the storm and…" I sat for a minute trying to collect myself. “How could I have thrown him out like that?”

  Leroy looked at me, sympathy in his eyes. “You can hardly blame yourself.”

  My head was in my hands. Minutes must have disappeared before I looked up at Leroy. “Danny’s mother blamed me. Why don’t you?”

  “It’s a long time ago. You had a terrible time after his death, I know that. We were all a mess. His death almost destroyed Fiona. She had to be quite heavily sedated for a while.” Leroy gazed into space.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, but Leroy didn’t seem to hear.

  “I always felt bad that we didn’t keep in touch with you and your parents. But Fiona couldn’t cope. I was afraid for her. We left New Zealand and came back here to N’Orleans. John—our son—had a good job in New Zealand and didn’t need us any more.”

  “But you’re back in New Zealand now?”

  “Yes, for the past ten years. We had a little restaurant in Queenstown and we didn’t sell it when we shifted to N’Orleans. Had a manager look after it. So we run it ourselves again now. I fear it must be in my blood.” A smile lit up his handsome face, and I found myself smiling back. “We turned it into a Creole restaurant and changed its name to ‘Danny's Piano Bar.’”

  I blanched. “For Danny.”

  Leroy nodded. “For Danny. Mom sold the original here in N’Orleans after Danny died—after that, she didn’t have the heart to keep it going...” His voice faded, and he seemed to be somewhere else for a moment. Then, shaking his head, he continued. “It was my son’s idea really, to rename our Queenstown restaurant in memory of Danny. He began his professional singing career there, you know. When he was at secondary school he used to do a gig on Friday and Saturday nights. Not the main gig, but when the band or group we had playing took a break.”

  He went to the pantry and scrabbled around inside, bringing two more bottles of beer back to the table. “Fiona wasn’t very happy about us calling it Danny’s Piano Bar at first, but she gradually got used to the idea. We even have a piano.” He handed me a beer. “And we’ve got a great poster on the wall of Danny from his N’Orleans days. Actually, that painting of him you thought I was stealing”—the corners of his mouth curled up—“was painted from that same poster. Mom commissioned the painting after Danny died.”

  “And your mother is still involved in her nightclubs? She’s quite a character.”

  “She is that,” Leroy agreed, affection warming his voice. “My brother Luke does most of the management nowadays, but even at 89, Mom still keeps her eye on things.”

  “Do you know how her clubs fared in Katrina?” I asked.

  “Structurally they’re fine. One’s in the French Quarter and another on the West Bank. They’ve been spared the flooding, thank goodness. But whether the French Quarter will recover from this, who knows? I can’t see the tourists flocking back for a long time,” said Leroy, his voice gloomy.

  “If there’s a city that can rise again, surely New Orleans is it,” I said, thinking as I uttered the words that it didn’t look good, if the incomprehensible incompetence of the evacuation response was anything to go by.

  “I don’t know. N’Orleans has survived a lot of history, but never anything as devastating as this. We all know it’s a crazy place to build a city, but it’s here, and that’s that. It’s not as if it can be built somewhere else, nice and dry and safe. I pray it doesn’t get rebuilt according to some ghastly modern plan.” Leroy shuddered. “I can’t even begin to contemplate it disappearing, so we’ll just have to restore it, sweet and slow, like a good, spicy jambalaya.”

  For a time we sat in companionable silence, the devastation outside on hold. I sipped my warm beer, savoring the bitter taste on my tongue and feeling strangely at peace in Leroy’s company. Even the feeling that Danny and his grandmother were there in the big kitchen was comforting.

  “And you?” Leroy’s voice jerked me back to the present. “Do you have a family? Children, I mean.”

  I looked at him. Was this the moment? “Yes, two. We—Adam, my husband—and I have a daughter and son. Lara and Finbar. Lara’s here with me actually. Not here but staying in Thibodaux.”

  “Lovely names. How old are they?”

  “Lara recently turned sixteen, and Finbar’s twelve.”

  “Ah, nearly grown.”

  I shivered as I saw the sudden change in his expression.

  “She must have been born not long after you and Danny were together…” Leroy’s voice petered out, and I nodded, not attempting to hide my tears. He got up and walked over to the open window, staring out.

  “She has Danny’s red hair and green eyes,” I said. “She’s always wanted to meet you.”

  Leroy turned around, his face white. “You were pregnant when Danny died? Why weren’t we told?”

  “My parents didn’t know either; not until I’d been in hospital for weeks. When they did find out they said that Fiona —you and Fiona— wanted nothing to do with them or me, and they thought it best to leave things be. I was really sick, depressed, for a long time. They were worried that you might want to get joint custody of my baby—and she was all that was keeping me from madness. And you’d left New Zealand. I’m so sorry. You had a right to know.”

  Leroy shook his head as if he was trying to kill something terrible inside. “Your parents have never told you.”

  “Told me?”

  “Perhaps it’s not my place, but you’re a grown woman and I am so sick of secrets and cover ups.”

  “What?” I whispered. Was this the truth at last about why Danny was up on the Pa that night?

  “I don’t suppose it matters now after all these years. But you deserve to know the truth.” Leroy sat down opposite me, his eyes sad. “This is going to be hard to hear, Georgia. I’m sorry.”

  “Please. Whatever it is, I want to know.”

  “Fiona and your father had an affair. Before you were born.”

  I stared at him, this man who looked so kind, my head refusing to take his words in. “My father and Danny’s mother? Dad had an affair?”

  “Yes. Fiona realized who you were when Danny told us about you; when he told us your surname. She was distraught. Seamus—your dad—had hurt her terribly. He got her pregnant and Fiona thought he’d leave your mother for her. But he wouldn’t. I can understand that; your parents had a one-year-old son.”

  “My brother,” I said, suddenly missing him, missing him so much, wanting him here with me, looking after me as he always did when we were kids.

  “Seamus was a fool—sorry—but he was a fool to have a fling with a pretty young girl and be so bloody careless about contraception.”

  “Did Mum know?” My mouth was so dry I could barely get the words out.

  “Your mother knew about the affair. That’s what Fiona told Danny and me. Your mother was the one who insisted Seamus give Fiona up; discard her is how she saw it. He discarded her and their child.”

  “Did Mum know Fiona was pregnant?” I was aching for her, my gentle mother.

  “I don’t know. I think so. You’ll have to ask her or your father about that.”

  “You must h
ate Dad. I’m sorry.”

  Leroy shook his head. “No, I don’t hate him. I prefer to forget he exists. But I don’t hate him. He gave me my son. John. Danny’s big brother. I would have liked to keep thinking some random surfer with no name fathered him; that’s what I thought until Danny showed up and dropped the bombshell that he was in love with you, and Fiona realized who you were and told Danny. Told us both that John’s father was your father.”

  “But why did she have to tell Danny? Why? Why then? She’d kept the secret so long. Why would she do that when he was so happy? When we were so happy?”

  Leroy shook his head. “I’m sorry, Georgia. She was hurt and angry. Danny being so joyful about you; so in love…that you were planning on getting married as soon as you could organize it …it brought it all back. She didn’t know what she was saying. She told Danny that if he stayed with you, married you, you would never be welcome in our home. There was a terrible scene. I was as shell-shocked as Danny but I tried to calm things down, get Fiona to see that her affair with Seamus was all so long ago and she needed to give you a chance. That it wasn’t your fault. But she wouldn’t, couldn’t hear me.”

  “And Danny put her first. Put his mother’s selfish demands before his love for me.” The blood was pounding in my head as I stumbled from my chair.

  “That’s my fault,” Leroy said. “Danny told his mum that nothing would stop him marrying you, and that if Fiona couldn’t handle that and welcome you into the family, we’d never see him again. I got him alone and tried to talk him out of such a drastic response. I was afraid for Fiona, her mental health. She adored Danny, and she was terrified that she would have to tell John the truth after all those years; that his father was Seamus and not me, and that Seamus was also the father of the woman Danny wanted to marry. She was afraid of losing John’s love, losing his respect, as well as being forced into ongoing contact with Seamus and your mother, especially if you and Danny later had children.”

  “So you convinced Danny to reject me. Why couldn’t he tell me the truth? Instead of lying to me and telling me he wasn’t sure any more about us and we should separate for months.”

  “He reluctantly agreed with my suggestion, that’s why. I suggested that he delay your marriage plans for a year or so, to give Fiona time to get used to the idea. I hoped that down the track a bit we could work out a way for Fiona to meet you so we could get to know you as a person first before Fiona had to get her head around the two of you marrying. I hoped she would gradually come around to at least welcoming you into our family, even if she refused to have anything to do with your parents. If she stayed resolute then Danny would have to decide whether to stick with his decision to break off all contact with us if you married.”

  “Why didn’t he tell me that? I would have understood. I would have understood and we’d never have had that terrible fight.” I was sobbing into my hands and then felt Leroy’s arm around me. I opened my eyes and looked up into his face, his gentle eyes, seeing Danny there. I felt a tiny pressure on my back and then I was being held tight and close.

  “Georgia, Georgia, don’t blame Danny. He told me you adored your father and would be shattered if you found out he’d had an affair and fathered a child as a result. I’m guessing that’s why he didn’t tell you the truth. He was not much more than a kid himself. He didn’t have the wisdom to know that the truth is always best, however much it hurts. So many secrets, so many lies. Danny was trying to protect you; he loved you so much. Seamus and Fiona though, me too, we didn’t have the excuse of youth.”

  “I believed him. I thought he’d decided that his career was more important than me, more important than our love. All that bullshit about us having a long-distance relationship so I could establish myself as a neurosurgeon and he could take up the offer with RCA after all. That’s what I thought it was. Bullshit. A weak excuse so he could get rid of me. That’s why we had that terrible fight and he went out into the storm…” I pulled away from Leroy. “I should have told him I was pregnant. Do you think that would have made a difference?”

  “You already knew you were pregnant?” Leroy said, the shock in his voice making me cover my eyes. I was shaking so violently I almost missed the seat of the chair as I collapsed down on it.

  “I was so angry with him,” I hiccupped. “I didn’t want him to stay with me because I was pregnant. I wanted him to stay with me because he loved me. I should have told him. I should have told him the truth. He might have stayed with me then. He might have told me about Dad and Fiona and why he was so upset. We would have cried and comforted each other and been happy about the baby and told you all to go to hell.” I took in a shaky breath. “And he would never have gone out in the storm and he would never have died.”

  “Don’t think like that. It was a tragic accident.”

  “I upset him so much with my anger and hurt…and he was already destroyed by his mother…do you think he couldn’t deal with it and, and…”

  “Don’t, Georgia. You of all people are not to blame. Danny wouldn’t have taken his own life, I’m sure of it. He was upset and wasn’t watching his step and slipped. That’s what the police report concluded.”

  “But we don’t know. We’ll never know for sure. Between us we sent him to his death whether it was accidental or not.”

  “I’m so sorry, Georgia. I shouldn’t have interfered. All I could think about was losing Danny if he married you and Fiona refused to see you. He’s my son. I didn’t know you. And you were the daughter of the man who got Fiona pregnant, and fathered John.”

  “Did Dad know Fiona had married you? Would he have guessed who Danny was by his surname?”

  Leroy shook his head. “No, he didn’t know Fiona’s married name.” He got up from his chair and moved back to the window. He stood there, his shoulders hunched, looking out at Katrina’s destruction. After a while, seconds, minutes, I don’t know, he turned around. “Your parents found out who Danny was after he died. They had flown back from Australia the same morning we arrived in Auckland and wanted to meet us, I suppose to say how sorry they were. You were in the same hospital as Danny was—as his body was. That’s where we met your parents; outside the hospital morgue. They cut my boy up to see why he died. Your parents were as upset as we were; they’d just been to see you. You were in the psychiatric ward. They hadn’t seen you for more than a year and by the time they saw you, you were so disturbed you were heavily sedated. It was terrible, terrible. Seamus recognized Fiona straight away. I don’t know if your mother did.”

  His voice croaked to a stop and I sat there, looking down at the table, trying not to think.

  “I made us all go to the hospital cafe and sit down. It didn’t help. We were all too upset.” Leroy was crying. We were both crying. I heard his chair scrape against the floor as he sat down again.

  “I loved Fiona so much. I still love her,” he said. “Before Fiona went to Great Barrier Island we’d been together for a while, but we’d broken up. Fiona broke us up, not me. I’d never stopped loving her from the moment I first saw her. But she wasn’t sure she felt the same. So she went to the island—her mother had a cousin living there—to sort herself out. Then she came back to Auckland and told me she was pregnant. She said the surfer had gone back to the US the day after they’d had a one-night stand after a drunken party. I believed her. I knew she didn’t love me as much as I loved her but I couldn’t live without her. I thought I couldn’t anyway. I was very young.

  “Fiona was desperate to leave New Zealand. We got married as soon as we could and the next day flew to N’Orleans and stayed with Mom. When John was born I took him as my own son. No one knew. Not Fiona’s parents, not my family. They all thought he was mine. My name was on his birth certificate, so he never knew I wasn’t his biological father. He still doesn’t know. But Fiona told Danny. She told him that if he married you, she would have to tell John the truth and she would lose him too. It doesn’t make much sense, I know, but she wasn’t thinking straight. None
of us were.”

  “What did she have that was so… so addictive that neither Dad nor you could resist her.” I hadn’t meant it to be a question but Leroy answered me anyway.

  “Danny looked like Fiona. He had the same charisma. Perhaps that will help you understand.” Leroy went over to the pantry and brought out a bottle of red wine. He poured two glasses without even asking me if I wanted one. We sat there and drank it. There was nothing else safe to drink and we were both pouring sweat.

  “Why didn’t Mum and Dad tell me? They must have known it would help me make some sense of why Danny rejected me.” I could hear my ragged breathing as my words stuttered out.

  Leroy shrugged. “Perhaps they were afraid that if they told you, you wouldn’t cope, given how unwell you were.”

  “Almost catatonic for a while apparently. Why was I so badly affected? I can understand terrible grief, but I’d never had any mental instability before.”

  “Who really knows the human heart? But I imagine that’s why your parents decided not to tell you; all they wanted was to have you back whole. Not give you another burden.” He poured himself a second glass of wine and gulped down a mouthful. “But I wish they’d found a way to tell Fiona and me that you were pregnant. Danny’s child. That might have made all the difference to Fiona. To me too. Our granddaughter.”

  We sat in silence for a while, each lost in our thoughts.

  “It’s a terrible, terrible thing when your child dies before you,” Leroy said, his voice breaking.

  “Yes, it is.” I closed my eyes against the image of Lara's bruised body lying in A & E. “I can’t even begin to think how dreadful it must be.”

  “Fiona suffered from awful depression for years after Danny’s death. When our children were young, she was so vivacious, so happy. She grew to love me, and our kids were everything to her. She still has the occasional bad patch, but mostly she keeps it under control with medication.”

  I walked over to the window. I felt a sudden jolt as I saw the tangle of fallen branches and a sheet of iron caught low in a tree, still standing, but stripped of its finery. Plastic, cardboard, paper and other debris littered the garden and flapped gently in the soft wind on this lovely summer day. Lost in the agony that had hidden inside me all these years, for a while I’d forgotten Katrina. I turned away from the devastation outside and looked at Leroy, a man facing still more tragedy—his city in ruins, his mother old and unwell, and no doubt his family’s nightclub business in serious jeopardy. And now he had the added burden of telling Fiona that Danny had a daughter.