The man came and went.
‘He has contacts in London,’ Allegra said to the girls, when they asked if he had left for good. ‘He knows people on the lookout for this kind of art.’
It was no longer her kind of art. Gone were the subtle splashes of luminescence, the wistful, iconic views of the house and ocean. Birds no longer flew up from her brush, no skies swept across her canvases.
Behind her back, the girls called these new paintings, ‘distracts’ and Meredith refused to hide her scorn.
‘They’re horrible,’ she said. ‘He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.’ She asked her mother what the man did in London. ‘What kind of connections does he have?’
‘He knows important people, darling. In the art world, it’s about who you know…’
Meredith interrupted and said she thought it was more likely to be about how good you were and her mother’s new paintings weren’t a patch on her landscapes.
‘Landscapes are so old-fashioned. It’s about reinventing oneself, it’s about—’
‘Good luck with that then.’
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’
Allegra gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Now I’ve forgotten what I was going to say. It’s rude to interrupt, Meredith. Just because Verity—’
‘Oh, I expect you’ll remember. Or you’ll think of something equally uninteresting to say.’
‘Meredith!’ Allegra’s hands – the little pearl ring glinting – fluttered like birds.
‘You’re acting like a teenager.’
Allegra played her cards the way she thought they would work.
‘Darling, I know you don’t mean that,’ she said. ‘You don’t mean any of it and you know me best. You’ve always known how much my work means to me. And he understands too. No one’s ever understood my work before. He can make my name for me; you, my sweetling – you know my heart!’
Meredith stared at her mother and she looked like an enchantment. Her eyes were the colour of smoke and her hair looked as if it might catch fire. The air in Meredith’s chest stuttered and it hurt to breathe. She wanted to believe in her mother’s enthusiasm and her fly-away compliments, only this time they sounded like another spell gone wrong.
She turned on her heel and ran from the room
He came in through the French windows so quietly he really might have been a burglar.
Curled in an armchair, reading, Verity nearly jumped out of her skin.
‘Creeping up on people is weird,’ she said. ‘And this isn’t your house. You ought to at least knock.’
He said he was sorry, and how was he to know she was hiding in the corner.
She watched him as he spoke, his eyes as they darted round the room, taking everything in as if he was taking an inventory. She noticed how his words formed on his lips, distorted by his English accent.
‘I’m not hiding,’ she said. ‘I live here.’
She asked him if he planned on staying around.
He said it depended on Allegra. ‘What do you think?’
‘We shan’t get far if you keep on answering my questions with questions.’
‘How far do you suppose we might go?’
Disarmed and old enough to sense the threat, too young to deal with it, Verity blushed.
Allegra appeared behind him – a floating, flaunting shadow. She ran her hand down his arm and her smile was a cat’s.
‘Verity,’ she said. ‘Everywhere we go, here you are.’
Eventually the sexual tension drove them both out: Verity, as a result of embarrassment, Meredith because she was furious that her dislike of the man was being ignored.
‘How can she? He’s … repugnant.’
Verity agreed. ‘Good word. And she pretty much threw me out of the sitting room.’
Meredith lolled against the back door, picking the peeling paint. ‘Why doesn’t she like you?’
Startled by the change of topic, Verity said, ‘It’s a game, Meri.’
No it isn’t. I don’t know why…
‘I’m not so sure. I sometimes think she’s nice to me to make you look bad, and that’s about as mean as it gets.’ Meredith sighed. ‘Not that she’s particularly nice to me these days. Good job I don’t care.’
‘Let’s go for a walk.’ Verity wanted to get as far away from the house and her mother as possible.
‘Beach?’
‘Do you mind?’
The dark silhouette of the lookout filled the sky. Below, as they approached the edge of the field they could see shallow waves, curves of foam dragging across the sand, back and forth, shushing and rhythmic on the shingle. Further out, the sea was black as ink. At the shoreline the oystercatchers were agitated, crying and strutting. Above them, gulls wheeled and shrieked warnings across the sky.
‘A storm’s coming,’ Meredith said.
‘It already came.’
Present
For a moment, until my eyes adjust to the gloom, the sitting room appears empty.
Shrouded furniture recedes into shadow. Through the double doors, I begin to see more clearly: more lifeless dustsheets covering pieces Nain believed we would one day come back to: sofas, tables, armchairs and sideboards. Bookcases still filled to bursting.
The carpet on the floor is faded to a pattern of ghost roses.
In the silence, I imagine flipping a dustsheet away, exposing a spellbound sleeping princess. An acorn on one of the old blind cords taps against the windowpane. I release the cords and one by one the blinds snap up.
Light pours through the room as if it has been waiting. It’s dim and I realise it’s because the windows are filthy. On the other side of the French window, above the terrace, the sky spreads, catches the endless cry of the gulls. Beyond the shallow stone steps I can see the fountain. How small it looks from here.
The chandelier is wrapped in cloth, an ugly grey teardrop; the heavy rope securing it hangs like a noose. I reach up and release it. It slides away like a girl letting her frock fall to the ground. The crystals are dull although one or two lustres catch the light.
Shivering, I run my hands over my upper arms.
Here are the real ghosts, slumped, grey shapes, too inert to be frightening, others hanging like stage curtains from the tops of bookcases; stillness and dust and not even the skittering of a mouse to scare anyone.
In spite of my best endeavour, I picture Allegra again, her too-bright eyes, her mad hair and the ever-present cigarette.
I’ve had enough of the house. I need a break. As with the front door, I half expect the French window doors to be stiff. They aren’t and when I unlock them, they open easily and the room is filled with the scent of the sea.
Forty-one
Verity and Meredith weren’t normally the kind of children who listened at keyholes.
They left that to their mother who couldn’t bear to be left out and, after a while, bored by what they heard, gave up. Maybe if they hadn’t, they might not have been surprised when they learned it was true: they were leaving Gull House.
‘My mind is made up, Mam.’
Verity, at the top of the stairs, stopped in her tracks.
Allegra held the telephone receiver to her ear and with her other hand marked extravagant arcs in the air. ‘You cannot rule my life like this. I need you to understand. I need you to be my mother for God’s sake, and on my side. It’s only for a few weeks until we find somewhere suitable.’
There was a fractured silence and Verity knew her grandmother was talking.
‘Of course I know what I’m doing. Why are you being like this? You’ve never believed in me.’ Allegra gripped the edge of the table. ‘He knows more about it than you do! He’s knows what he’s doing and so do I.’
Verity held her breath.
‘Can’t you do this one thing for me, Mam? For the girls? It won’t be for long, I promise…’ She came to a halt, made a sound of exasperation and went on, ‘That isn’t true! Oh, I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.
I’ll call you later, when you’ve calmed down.’
Verity ran down the stairs. As her mother slammed down the receiver, Verity grabbed her arm, forcing Allegra to look at her.
‘You cannot be doing what that sounded like.’
Allegra’s voice was shrill. ‘It’s none of your business.’
Verity watched the querulous movements of her mother’s mouth. ‘If you’re planning on making me move; making Meredith move, then how is it not our business?’
Allegra tried to shake her daughter off.
Verity tightened her grip. ‘If you make us leave I will never speak to you again and I’ll make sure Meredith doesn’t either.’
Shaken, wrenching her arm away, Allegra swallowed and Verity saw she had touched a nerve.
‘I shan’t give up, Allegra. You can’t do this. I swear I’ll make him hate you and he’ll leave you and when you end up alone, it’ll be no more than you deserve.’
‘You’re hiding something.’
‘No I’m not.’ Verity was still shaking after her encounter with her mother.
‘I know you, Verity Pryce. Don’t … prevaricate.’ Meredith had followed her outside, down the steps to the fountain. ‘When you lie, your cheeks go red.’
Verity flopped down on the grass, her back to the retaining wall. ‘There’s nothing to tell.’
Unconvinced, Meredith said, ‘I don’t believe you but I’m going to pretend I do and wait for you to let whatever it is slip. You will; you always do.’
Verity chewed her lip. Lying made her feel awful. She wanted to tell Meredith the truth, couldn’t bear for her to be unhappy.
‘If you won’t tell me your secret, then tell me what else you’re thinking about.’ Meredith crossed her legs and started making a daisy chain. Verity could see how grubby her bare feet were.
‘Angharad’s baby?’ She made it a question because it wasn’t the truth. Verity wasn’t sure she cared what happened to the twig baby. Life was making her worry, not dead ghost babies.
‘Don’t fret about her,’ Meredith said. ‘When it’s the right time, we’ll bury her and it’ll be okay. I told you, I want to wait until he’s not around.’
She picked some more daisies, sliding her fingers down the stems making sure they were long enough for a chain. ‘Everything will be all right, Verity. He’ll go soon, you see if he doesn’t.’
Verity shrugged. ‘I guess.’
‘If we believe, it’ll be all right.’
Meredith sounded so certain.
Say it and mean it…
They weren’t living in Neverland and Meredith wasn’t Tinkerbell.
‘Meri…’
‘There’s nothing to it.’ Meredith jabbed the stem of a daisy with her thumbnail. ‘You refuse to believe the bad things can hurt you, and they don’t.’
Verity knew happiness was fragile and as fleeting as apple blossom – in the moment and best grasped with both hands.
She managed a smile.
Opening her bedroom window in the middle of the night, Verity discovered the world enveloped in mist. The house settled around her and outside, the still of evening: layer upon layer of quiet, the air saturated with the scent of disaster.
Her fury kept her from sleeping. It was blind and raging and it shocked her. Verity wasn’t used to this level of turmoil. The merest hint of a showdown with her mother made her blood run cold.
Questions filled her head.
Why had that awful man come here? What did he want? Was it his idea they should leave Gull House? And if it was, how could her mother allow it to happen?
Allegra’s intention hovered like a horrible hint; a despicable secret Verity knew and couldn’t bring herself to believe. It was a nasty taste at the back of the tongue, a glimpse of something fearful caught in the corner of an eye.
She knocked on her mother’s bedroom door, knowing better than to go in unasked. There was no answer and she gave the door a push.
Allegra sat at her dressing table, brushing her hair.
The room was overlaid in its usual chaos. It stank of smoke and sex.
‘If you’ve come to scream at me again, you can leave. I won’t be spoken to like that. You’re worse than my mother! It was outrageous.’ Allegra coughed and covered her mouth.
‘It was true, Mam. Only you needn’t worry, I’m not going to argue with you.’
I’m going to tell you… Make you tell me…
‘Well, so I should think.’ Allegra dabbed her lips with a handkerchief, turned again to her mirror, tilted her head for a better view as if the harsh words from earlier hadn’t been spoken.
She let out a long sigh. ‘I can’t bear for people to know how poor we are, Verity. Can’t you understand?’
If Verity was surprised by this admission she gave no indication.
‘No prospects.’ Allegra said. ‘No chance. I never had a chance.’ She looked over her shoulder, and Verity could see her mother wanted to make eye contact and couldn’t quite manage it. ‘Your father saw to that.’
‘I don’t want to talk about him. And in any case, we had Nain. You had Nain.’
‘And where is she now, pray? When I need her?’
‘Gethin needs her more. You know he does.’
‘Oh, him. Let’s all feel sorry for mad Gethin. I’m her daughter. I should come first. But no, she dropped everything and abandoned me.’
Verity wasn’t sure she’d ever heard her mother criticise Nain outright. The fierceness of the accusation startled her. Her callous disregard for Gethin’s wellbeing was new too, and shocked her.
Allegra’s voice became plaintive and Verity saw the anger drain away.
‘What’s the point, it’s up to me now anyway.’
She heard something unfamiliar, as if Allegra revealed an older hurt, and she knew a moment of guilt. When she finally caught her mother’s eye she saw only confrontation.
‘You may as well accept the situation, Verity. It’s no use, I have to go. Which means you and your sister have to come with me. It’s for the best.’
‘Go?’ Quiet as a ghost, Meredith came into the room. ‘Go where?’
There is more than one kind of silence. Some are a pause for breath, others hostile and indifferent, artificial or laden with mischief. The one that met Verity and her sister was weighted with prevarication. For a woman who liked the sound of her own voice, Allegra had the art of silence tamed and as biddable as a kitten in an instant.
‘Say something!’
‘Don’t shout, Verity,’ Meredith said. ‘She doesn’t mean it. She can’t.’
‘Yes she does. She’s already admitted it. Stop making excuses for her.’ Verity glared at her mother. ‘Go on, tell her! Tell her what you just told me.’
Allegra exhaled through her nose, as if she was smoking. Her hands flew up and she held them at the side of her face, framing it, the better to be seen.
‘I know,’ she said, ‘how hard this is for you both to understand—’
Meredith cut her off. ‘It isn’t hard at all. It’s simple. If you’re thinking of taking us away, then say so.’ She paused and the silence held them again. ‘You are; you’re making us move aren’t you? Because it’s what you want, what that vile man wants, and you don’t care what I want or what Verity wants.’
‘Oh for Christ’s sake, not this again.’ Allegra’s hands landed on her thighs with a slap. ‘How can you be so selfish? So ungrateful? Meredith, what’s got into you? All I’ve ever done is my best and now, when I have a chance, the only thing you can do is to try and wreck it. You’re as bad as her!’
A look of such devastation crossed Meredith’s face that Verity could have burst into tears.
‘We may as well be some other woman’s daughters.’
‘What?’ Allegra rose from her chair, flapped her hands in front of her face.
Meredith was shaking. ‘I don’t know who you are anymore.’
‘Don’t talk nonsense. I’m your mother! And you’ll do as I say!’
Verity knew it was more than this. Her sister was on the verge of falling apart and Allegra couldn’t care less.
If her mother made them leave, Verity didn’t dare imagine what would happen next. Everything Meredith knew existed in Gull House. The air she breathed, the dust motes and the moths; the whispering walls and secret spaces. Her sister could only deal with what was happening now: the ghost of Angharad, and her belief that she had to lay the twig baby to rest in the sanctuary of Mared’s garden. If Allegra took her away, it would destroy her.
It will destroy me too…
‘Mam, why are you being so cruel?’ Verity pulled Meredith to her and felt shudders running through her sister’s body. ‘Look at her! Look at what you’re doing. To both of us. You don’t need him. You could be anything…’
‘It’s you, isn’t it?’ Allegra turned from Verity and addressed Meredith. ‘It’s her. She put you up to this, didn’t she?’
‘Why is it always Verity’s fault?’ Consumed by fear and disgust, Meredith fought the tears welling up again. ‘Why are you so hateful to her?’
Allegra’s face closed in. ‘And why are you taking her side?’
‘There aren’t any sides,’ Meredith shouted. ‘Since when have there been sides?’ She shifted against Verity’s body and her voice dropped to a whimper. ‘There’s no point is there? She’s gone mad. Really mad, and no one’s making her. She’s doing it all by herself.’
Unaware of any hidden meaning behind her daughter’s words, Allegra snarled. ‘Oh, don’t be so melodramatic.’
There are more ways than one to go mad, reasons beyond imagining.
Her face darkened. ‘Why don’t you listen and let me explain? London isn’t the end of the world.’
Meredith fixed her grey eyes on her mother. They looked so much like Allegra’s it was as if she stared into a mirror.
‘This is your story, and you can have it. I don’t want to be in it anymore. I don’t want to be your daughter.’
Allegra took a step forward and Verity felt her sister flinched. For a moment, she thought Allegra might lash out. She placed a protective arm round Meredith’s head.
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