“So,” Violet asks as she passes around the teacups, “have I missed all the news?”
“Not all of it,” says Dan with a knowing look in Dora’s direction. She supposes this is her moment.
“We do have some news actually,” Dora confirms.
Richard looks up from his tea. “Oh yes?”
“Yes. It’s good news.” She has already decided to be more positive. “I’m pregnant.”
There is a moment of startled silence.
“We’re going to have a baby,” she tries again.
Dora sees her father’s hand tremble slightly as he places his cup and saucer back onto the coffee table. He swallows hard and then looks up at her. She can’t tell if it is the light playing tricks or if there are tears welling in his eyes, but they seem to shine a little too brightly behind the glass of his spectacles.
“Well, say something then,” she urges.
“Darling…,” Richard chokes. “Darling, that’s…wonderful news. My goodness, a baby! My baby girl is going to have a baby!”
Dora laughs. “Yes, I suppose that’s one way of putting it!”
Violet is on her feet. She has grasped Dan’s hands in hers and is dancing a funny little jig in front of him that seems to make every ounce of spare flesh on her body jiggle with excitement.
“Oh a baby! How wonderful. Congratulations.” She plants another kiss on Dan’s cheek and leaves a ruby-red imprint of her lipstick on his stubbly skin.
Dora turns back to her father with concern. He seems to be having trouble breathing and is fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I know this is probably a bit of a shock…”
“No. No, my dear, it’s not that.” He takes a deep breath inward, as if suddenly finding his lungs. “I’m sorry. It’s wonderful news, it really is. It’s just a little…unexpected. I thought maybe an engagement?”
“Dad!” exclaims Dora. “Don’t tell me you’re getting all conventional on me? Mum was pregnant before you got married, wasn’t she?” She sees that it isn’t a trick of the light. “Oh, Dad, please don’t cry. We didn’t mean to upset you. We hoped you’d be pleased.”
“I am pleased.” Richard removes his spectacles and dabs at his eyes with a handkerchief. “Really, I am. Please excuse me, I’m just being a silly old fool.” He hugs Dora so hard that she struggles to breathe.
“Yes you are, Richard!” exclaims Violet vehemently. “A baby is wonderful news. It’s just what this family needs.”
Richard wipes his eyes again and then walks over to Dan and claps him on the back. “Congratulations, young man. I hope you’ll look after my daughter and my firstborn grandchild.”
“Of course I will, Richard. You needn’t worry about that.”
“No, of course not. I know you will. You’re a fine young man.” He slaps him on the back again and then looks around awkwardly. “Well, I don’t know about all of you, but I think I could do with something a little stronger than tea now. This calls for a celebration, don’t you think?”
“I’ve got just the thing in the fridge.” Violet is up on her feet and halfway out the door when she turns to Dan with a meaningful look. “Oh, would you mind giving me a hand in here? I’m not sure I can reach the champagne flutes.” She nods suggestively at Dora and Richard.
“Of course.” Dan leaps to his feet, gives Dora an encouraging look, and then follows Violet out of the room, leaving father and daughter alone.
Dora moves across and perches herself on the arm of Richard’s chair. “I’m sorry if this has come as a bit of a shock. I didn’t mean to take you by surprise. It’s very hard to know how to do these things…” She trails off, unsure what else to say.
Richard blinks, removes his spectacles again, and begins to polish them on his sleeve. “No, my dear, it’s I who am sorry. I wasn’t upset because of your news. It is a surprise, but a wonderful surprise.” He pauses, seeming unsure whether to continue or not. “I always hoped for these big family moments, weddings, babies—all the happy times you strive for in life. I suppose I had imagined them slightly differently; you know, all of us together, at Clifftops.” He pauses again. “Does your mother know?”
Dora nods. It is the first time Richard has mentioned Helen in a very long time.
“Is she pleased?”
Dora doesn’t know how to answer that question, so she just nods again, this time somewhat vaguely.
“You know, you were right about your mother and I. We fell pregnant with Cassie by accident, not long after we first met. It’s still the best mistake I’ve ever made. I don’t regret it for a minute.”
“When you found out…when you knew you were going to be a father…” Dora pauses, and then continues in a rush, “I mean, did you know it was what you wanted, immediately? Were you both happy about it?”
Richard gives a little laugh. “It was a shock, of course it was. But once we’d decided to make a go of it we didn’t look back. I remember we took the train to visit her parents first and broke the news. They were horrified of course.” He gives a little wry laugh. “Then we drove down to Clifftops and told my parents.” Richard stops abruptly. He seems lost in his thoughts.
“That must have been awkward,” Dora suggests.
“Well, everyone was a little more old-fashioned in those days. But we’d already decided to marry, so the drama soon blew over.” Richard falls silent again.
“Our news must bring back painful memories for you? Of Mum…and fatherhood and…well, everything else?”
“Yes, I suppose so. But this isn’t about my memories and me now. This is about your life, Dora. And I certainly hope Violet and I were more positive than your grandparents were when we told them Helen was pregnant with Cassie!” He gives another little laugh and then pauses to replace his glasses. “What’s that saying: history repeating itself ?”
“Oh!” exclaims Dora sharply. “I hope not.”
Richard seems to realize his error. “No, of course not. I don’t mean…I didn’t mean, well, not Alfie. I never would have meant…” He trails off. “Sorry, darling, I’m not very good at this am I? I am thrilled for you, Dora. You will make a wonderful mother.”
“Do you think so?” Dora leaps on his words hungrily.
“Of course. And you’re both happy?”
“Dan is delighted. He can’t wait to become a dad. I’ve had a slightly harder time adjusting to the news…,” Dora admits.
“Do you plan to marry?”
Dora sighs. “I honestly don’t know. It doesn’t seem that important right now. I think we’re both more focused on doing the right thing by this baby. And really, what difference does marriage make? So many don’t seem to last the distance these days…” She stops, suddenly aware of what she has said.
“Well, I can’t argue with you there.”
They sit together in silence for a moment. Somewhere outside a wood pigeon’s call drifts on the breeze. It takes Dora straight back to afternoons on the lawn at Clifftops. She closes her eyes. She can almost smell the freshly cut grass and the salt breeze blowing through the sycamore trees.
Richard clears his throat, breaking her reverie. “Dora, I would hate to think that mistakes your mother and I have made in the past might be making things harder for you right now. You do know that despite what’s happened between us, I still love you very, very much, don’t you?”
“I know.” Dora reaches out and takes her father’s hand in hers.
“One of my biggest regrets is that your mother and I couldn’t make our marriage work. I was so in love with her. Perhaps one of the cruelest things I did, unintentionally, was to try to possess her by putting a ring on her finger. But then I suppose we were just kids really, and that’s what you did in those days. But you and Dan are different. I can see that.”
“Are we? That’s something I worry about. I know things were bad after Alfie died—really bad—but I always hoped you and Mum would make it through. It was a shock when you left,” she admits.
“Yes, I suppose
it was, although Cassie had left us by then, and you weren’t far behind her. There seemed to be very little point us both pretending, rattling around in that great big house, both of us miserable.”
“I can understand that,” agrees Dora.
“You know, after Alfie disappeared we were tortured with so many unanswered questions and grief. So much grief. We were too shattered to help each other heal. Whenever we did try to console one another it only seemed to make things worse. We hadn’t just lost the ability to communicate—we’d lost the respect too; the gulf between us was just too great.”
Dora is surprised to hear her father speaking so openly. They’ve never had a conversation like this. She stays silent, hoping he will continue.
“I blame myself. Your mother never wanted to move to Clifftops. I should have listened to her, but I was so selfish, so single-minded about it all. The house took over. It began to consume me. I wanted to look after it exactly how my parents had, to make it a focus, our pride and joy. But I got it so wrong. In the end it wasn’t just the roof over our heads—it became the towering wall that stood between us too. You must have felt it, being there with us, toward the end?”
Dora nods. She remembers what it had been like.
“You know, it’s been a relief to be free of it. Shrugging off the responsibility of it all was very liberating.” He looks around about him in the living room, as if seeing his surroundings properly for the very first time. “Oh I know this new house isn’t what you all expect of me. Between you and me,” he adds conspiratorially, “I could do without the smelly candles and the toilet seat warmer.”
Dora can’t help but smile.
“But it’s what makes Violet happy, and seeing her happy brings me pleasure now, in a way I hadn’t thought possible after Alfie.”
“We all still miss him so much, don’t we? Even after all this time.”
“Yes,” agrees Richard.
Dora takes a deep breath. “There’s something I have to ask you, Dad. I need you to be honest.”
“Of course, poppet.” His clear blue eyes stare straight back at her.
“Do you blame me, Dad? You know, for what happened that day?”
Richard holds her gaze a moment longer, then blinks and shakes his head vigorously. “Oh, my dear girl, you don’t honestly think it was your fault, do you?”
Dora remains silent, not wanting to influence whatever he is going to say next.
“Dora, it was an accident, a terrible, tragic accident. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. God knows, I’ve tried to place the blame over the years…on myself…on your mother…even, God forgive me, for one wild moment on Cassie, her being the elder of you girls. I hated myself for that.” He stares her in the eye. “But never you; I never blamed you.”
Dora shakes her head. “I don’t understand. It was as much my fault as Cassie’s. Alfie must have followed me out of the Crag that day. I never saw him. I should have been more careful. I should have returned sooner.”
“No! The blame never lay with either of you girls. You were both just kids. Besides,” he adds quietly, “I’ve learned over the years that it’s no good looking for someone to blame. It’s not going to bring him back, is it?”
She shakes her head. It’s obvious there’s still something he won’t share, something he still won’t tell her, but she doesn’t push him.
Eventually he looks up at her. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
She shrugs. “I’m feeling a bit lost to be honest. I’m scared that Dan and I might not make it. And perhaps more than that, I’m scared of losing him—him or the baby. I don’t believe I deserve this happiness in my life and I honestly can’t go through it all again.”
Richard nods. “I understand. I didn’t believe I deserved happiness either, not after Alfie. The few times I found myself smiling, enjoying a meal, sharing a laugh with someone, it always left me racked with guilt. But then Violet and I grew close. It was after I’d left your mother…a good while after. We bumped into each other in London. I’d just finished work and she was up in town on some mammoth shopping spree.” He gives a low chuckle. “I remember it was in the food hall in Selfridges. I couldn’t see who it was at first. She called out to me by the oyster bar and all I could see were these bright red shoes poking out from beneath a mountain of bags.”
Dora smiles. That sounded about right.
“We had a glass of wine…spent an hour or so chatting, and I only realized as we were saying good-bye that I had smiled more in that one hour than in the whole time following Alfie combined.” He pauses for a moment. “I’m afraid there are no guarantees in life. It pains me to say it, but I can’t promise you that life won’t bring suffering your way again. But answer me this, Dora: What do we do, stop living, stop trying, because we’re afraid of getting hurt? Yes, life doesn’t always turn out how we think it’s going to. Yes, it can hurt us—almost destroy us, but I know now that we can heal too. We can get stronger. We can find happiness from the most unexpected of places…with the most unexpected of people.”
Dora swallows and both father and daughter remain still for a moment, both obviously struggling with their emotions.
“It was Violet who helped me take a chance again,” he says eventually. “She has been my savior. She’s such a warm, jolly soul. She doesn’t let me take myself too seriously. And perhaps most important, I’ve learned from my mistakes. I listen to her. I respect her. I love her passion for her work…her desire to enjoy the best in life…her ability to see the best in people. I’ve even learned to appreciate her love of towering high heels, no matter how many times she steps on my toes! I know how lucky I was to have a second chance. Perhaps Dan and this baby is your chance now, Dora?”
Dora nods and they sit together in silence awhile longer, until Richard speaks again.
“You know, it’s the distance between us all now that I blame myself for most.”
Dora looks up in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“You. Cassie. Perhaps I could have held things together more after we lost Alfie. I was lost in my grief, but I see now I should have tried harder, for you girls. I certainly missed all the signs with Cassie.” He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Then I got caught up with Violet and the last thing I wanted to do was force my relationship with her on you girls. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how you would take it. I worried it would be yet another thing to cause upset for you both. Perhaps that was cowardly of me, but I chose to take a backseat for a while. I always hoped you might find your way back to me, though…and to each other.” He thinks for a moment. “You know, it saddens me to see you girls still so distant. Have you had any contact with Cass?”
Dora shakes her head. “Not really.” How does she explain it to him? How can she tell him about the one time she tracked Cassie down that very first winter, the one following Cassie’s “accident”? Driven by the need to see Cassie for herself, she had taken a day trip to London; Christmas shopping, she’d told her parents, but really she had no other intention than finding and confronting Cassie. She’d stood outside a grotty London café and watched through fogged-up windows as her sister flitted between the tables, delivering coffees and fry-ups to a hungry crowd, and she had just been screwing up her courage to enter the café when she saw her sister smile at something one of the customers had said, an easy smile that had stretched across her face and transformed her back into the Cassie she remembered of old. It had been the sight of her standing there amid the tables and chairs, a steaming coffeepot in one hand, looking so at ease with the world, that had finally demolished any desire Dora had felt to confront her sister. Instead she had scuttled back to the Underground without so much as a backward glance. It was clear Cassie didn’t need her in her life. She wasn’t the depressed, suicidal creature she’d been imagining in her dreams. For all the trauma and tragedy, it seemed as though Cassie had moved on just fine without her.
That had been the last time Dora had tried to make contact with Cassie, although
her sister had reached out to her since. Every year on Dora’s birthday a card would arrive—a bland floral tribute simply signed with love, Cassie. There was never any message, never any kisses, until, just once, on Dora’s twenty-first, the card arrived with a mobile phone number scrawled next to Cassie’s name.
Dora had considered calling. She’d kept the card for several months, turning it over and over in her hands, wondering whether to take the plunge. But she never had. Even on those particularly lonely nights, the ones when she’d found herself home alone with nothing but a bottle of wine for company, when the nostalgia and grief had really set in, even then she’d managed to restrain herself. For she only had to recall the pain she’d felt after Cassie had run away, after she had tried to end her life, or conjure up the image of Cassie standing there in that café, her white teeth shining under the glare of the strip lights as if she didn’t have a care in the world, to remind her that there really was no point. Cassie had made her choice a long time ago, and they were traveling on different paths now.
Dora swallows. She doesn’t have the words to tell her father how she feels about Cassie. “Have you seen her recently?” she asks.
Richard nods. “Violet and I saw her about six months ago. She seemed good. She’s in Oxford now…has landed on her feet with a job of some sorts. It’s an interesting setup.” He pauses. “I know she’d like to see you…” He leaves the suggestion hanging in the air, but he doesn’t push it. “Look, Dora,” he continues finally, “I can understand your fears. I’ve spent enough of my life wishing I had protected you kids a little more, protected myself a little better. But then would I have had the happy times I enjoyed with you kids, and your mother…and now with Violet? I think you have to give of yourself. I think you have to take a few risks. What’s that saying: A life lived in fear is a life half lived?”
Dora nods. It makes sense in the cold light of day.
“You know, Panda, I really don’t have the answers, but what I do know is that you can spend far too much of your life on the unimportant things in life: the big house, the stressful job, the perfect family, and all the traditions and expectations that go along with it. But when all is said and done, that isn’t what’s important. It’s taken me a long time to learn it, but I know now that it’s the people you hold in your heart, and how you treat them, that’s most important. So you hold on to Dan, and your baby. Hold on tight, and whatever you do, don’t let them go. Hold tight, my girl.”
The House of Tides Page 28