Letting You Go

by Anouska Knight

  Poppy had been miffed when Alex had helped Finn with his raft Friday. Her little heart had been bruised each time Finn had laughed for Alex. A bundle of fur and all was forgiven.

  Alex walked back towards her truck. ‘Sure you can. I’m sure Susannah won’t mind. Let’s put her on her lead though.’ Alex fished Norma out through the window and tethered her to the gateposts running alongside the parking area. Poppy dove to her knees, dropping the pegs and daisies like discarded thoughts for someone else to worry about.

  Emma laughed at her. ‘So what brings you here this morning?’ she asked Alex.

  Alex had stayed awake half the night with it, thinking it all over and over again. Thinking of her excuse to come over here. Alex could answer Emma with I’ve finally brought Susannah’s casserole dish back, or I’ve come to suss out my sister’s boyfriend. But the truth, the real truth, seemed more important. ‘Actually, I’ve come to see Finn.’

  There. Not so hard was it? The sun hadn’t clouded over, the integrity police weren’t here to cart anybody off.

  Emma smiled knowingly ‘Good for you, Alex.’ Alex wasn’t the only one Susannah had been sharing cocktails and conversation with then. Alex tensed. Susannah wouldn’t know about yesterday though, would she? Finn wouldn’t have … no, of course he wouldn’t.

  ‘Oh, no, puppy! Don’t do that, you’ll hurt your neck, silly.’ Poppy yelped just as Norma teased her head from the last grip of her collar.

  Alex groaned. ‘That dog is a flipping escapologist.’

  Norma was onto something, excitedly sniffing the ground. Alex watched her scramble over towards Finn’s studio space.

  ‘She can smell the other dogs. Finn paints dogs in there,’ Poppy informed them with a spindly, outstretched arm.

  ‘I’d better go get her back then. Before she spoils any of Finn’s work. Bye, Emma, bye, Poppy.’ Alex smiled at Poppy but her heart was bruised again. Sorry, Poppy. But if my dad can’t guilt me out of this, I’m afraid you’ve got no chance.

  Alex made it to the doors into the studio and knocked nervously. She’d been trying not to think about her dad meeting Louisa the morning Dill drowned, trying not to dissect how his actions might also have played some small part in the events leading up to the accident. She’d promised her mother that she’d get along with her dad. And she had every intention of achieving that goal somehow. But whatever lay ahead for them now, whatever they were going to work towards, it had to be honest. It had to be unconditional. It had to include Finn.

  ‘Hello?’ Alex inhaled the familiar scent of oil paints and turpentine on old rags and jam jars.

  Finn had his radio on. He used to paint to the radio back in college. Kerrang mostly, but sometimes, when he thought no one was listening, Smooth FM. Alex didn’t recognise the song playing, something melodic over an acoustic guitar, not enough to drown out the new tempo beating in her chest.

  Norma trundled over to the figure sitting with his back to Alex and made her own introduction to Finn’s ankle.

  His upper body bunched like a teenager’s as he twisted and peered down at her. ‘We meet again.’

  It suddenly occurred to Alex that Finn probably didn’t want to be included in her plans to move forwards. He’d called her last night. She hadn’t answered. She’d been thinking it all out. He hadn’t called her again.

  Finn glanced over his shoulder and offered Alex a perfectly polite smile, rooting her doubts firmly through the floor.

  ‘Another canine subject,’ Alex tried, nodding at his canvas. ‘Millie Fairbanks used to have a dog like that. She used to tie it to her wheelchair on the way to school. Do you remember?’ It was an ice-breaker at least.

  Finn put a last shadow to the black Labrador’s snout and set his brush down. He twisted a cloth through his hands, the backs of his arms flexed against his pale red shirt. Alex thought of those capable arms, the way they’d held her somehow despite the slipperiness of the damp air and their impatience to tug and grasp at each other before anyone might stumble across them. Her pulse hitched up a little.

  ‘I remember.’ He smiled. ‘Saw it every day. Rowlands gave it to her, to lift her spirits after she came out of hospital.’ Finn’s tone was off. Alex felt a tension.

  ‘Rowlands?’

  ‘The farmer. Millie’s puppy was supposed to go to another kid, only his dad did a runner before he’d paid for it so …’ Finn shrugged. ‘Deal was off.’

  Finn scooped Norma up and ran his fingers through the ruff of her neck. Alex had already put her foot in it. She imagined a young Finn then, a little boy having to watch someone else love the puppy he’d been promised.

  ‘It looks great, Finn. You’ve obviously got the pet portraiture down,’ she tried.

  Finn laughed a half-hearted laugh. He was laughing at her, for trying this ridiculous chit-chat. She was like one of those horrible teenage boys her mum had warned her about. ‘Watch out for those awful little testosteroids. They take advantage of nice young girls and then the next day, don’t even acknowledge them!’ Alex was a horrible little testosteroid.

  ‘It’s not exactly the National Gallery stuff,’ Finn answered.

  ‘But it brings a bit of extra income in,’ she pressed. ‘You’ve done so many …’ Alex gabbled, looking about the studio. ‘Is this one for anyone local?’

  Finn’s eyes looked tired. ‘No. First time someone’s emailed in and just asked for a portrait, actually.’

  ‘Don’t they have to come and sit or something? Have photographs taken?’

  ‘Usually. Not with this one though, just a few emails and an order paid in full. I should’ve finished it by now, the guy’s coming to collect it tomorrow but Carrie kept on adding to the job over at the florist’s. Then I got roped into entering the raft race, so …’

  The raft! It had floated off by the time they’d emerged from the waterfall. Finn had rubbed the back of his wet head and glanced downstream for a second before quietly watching Alex gather up her things.

  A silence stretched out between them. He was starting to look as uncomfortable as Alex felt. Would she go and watch him in the boat race? she wondered. Would she go and cheer him on, because she wanted him to be hers and it shouldn’t matter to her who knew because he could undo her with just a look – just a look! – so God only knew what could happen if she saw him bare-chested in a Viking helmet?

  ‘Must love black Labradors then, I guess.’ She was struggling for conversation.

  Finn raised his eyebrows and was boyish and rugged again. ‘People pay hundreds for a picture of their dog, and I’ve never had one commission for someone’s child. Weird, huh?’

  ‘Weird,’ she agreed. ‘Maybe you’re better off painting dogs. Humans can be tricky creatures.’

  Finn’s features were hardening off again. ‘Hard to work out, you mean? Temperamental? Indecisive? Hot and cold?’ He looked at her briefly then ran a hand over his head knocking the hair from his eyes. And then like that, the seriousness abated. When had he gotten so good at that? At shutting down any glimpse that he might be hurting in some way.

  Alex cleared her throat. ‘I was thinking … complicated.’

  Finn picked through the brushes on his worktop and started putting them into various jars. His jaw tensed. ‘You’re right, Foster. Animals are a lot less complicated than people. They’re more honest too. Not afraid to love you out loud.’ He began gesticulating with one of his brushes. ‘A dog sees his family and … that’s it, no holds barred, it wants to go crazy for them and protect them and enjoy them and not care about anything else in the world. Dogs are faithful, Alex,’ he said, whipping his head around to look at her. ‘They’re loyal. They don’t love you secretly and then expect it to be enough.’

  Alex quietly pulled in breath. He was right. On all counts. She buried her hands into her back pockets and tried to think of something useful to say. Finn had brought his arms across his chest, the underside of his inside-out plaid shirt in paler shades of red. There was a fleck of paint sitting in th
e stubble on his cheek where he’d been holding his brushes in his mouth. Alex wanted to reach out and wipe it away for him, or maybe she just wanted the excuse to cross the few feet to him and touch him again. Pretend they were still back up at the gorge. Something inside her clunked into place. She looked at Finn then, this great guy who’d been such a big part of her life, and felt suddenly exhausted. She was tired. Tired of trying to bury the adolescence they’d spent together, tired of trying to make sense of a terrible twist of fate. She was tired of pretending how she felt about things all the time but mostly, she was tired of being a wimp. This awful, wimpy echo of the girl she was once.

  ‘Would you like to come out for a drink with me, Finn?’

  She saw the surprise dart across his face. It made her feel both ashamed and exhilarated all at once. Norma wriggled to reach his neck better, her head bobbed beneath his chin like a nuzzling fawn.

  ‘You and me? Out, out? As in, where other people are?’

  She was a terrible person. Finn was a good guy, honest, loyal, and since the sun had worked its magic over the ends of his hair, billboard-beautiful, Alex thought, if you liked your men a little rough around the edges, which she probably wouldn’t have done had Finn not fitted so snuggly into that bracket now.

  ‘How about The Cavern? I’ll buy you a Valhalla burger?’ Something warmed in his expression. Alex smiled with him, she’d seen the Valhalla burgers on Hamish’s menu board on her way through the pub.

  Finn’s face sobered. He understood. Alex’s dad would most likely be in The Cavern or, at least, Ted’s friends. Alex hated that it made a difference, that a simple offering to go out and spend an evening together like grownups was some kind of momentous testament to how she felt about him. How she’d always felt. It wasn’t testament enough.

  ‘Popular place, The Cavern,’ he said.

  Alex nodded. ‘It is.’

  ‘Might we, er … bump into your—’

  ‘You’re right. We might. How about you come pick me up and we’ll go to The Cavern from there?’

  No mights. They were highly likely to bump into her father now.

  Finn cocked his head and frowned. ‘From your place?’

  It would all end in tears, of course. But then didn’t it always? It was about time people started crying for the gains and not just the losses.

  ‘My dad’s place,’ Alex confirmed. ‘I mean, if that’s OK with you of course. You don’t have to, I mean—’

  ‘Your place will be fine, Alex.’ He smiled. ‘I’ll borrow Brünnhilde’s body armour from the high street, but your place will be just fine.’

  CHAPTER 51

  ‘Jem, I need to borrow something to wear.’ Jem was sat in the middle of the lounge floor, a sea of documents and photocopies strewn around her like she were some kind of insect plonked at the centre of a large paper flower. She reached over the papers to the hearth and set her wine glass down. ‘What are you doing?’ asked Alex.

  ‘Thought I’d go back to our roots,’ said Jem, fishing out the box lid and wafting it so Alex could see the family tree set their mum had started. ‘I’ve gotten as far as great-great grandma Alice. That’s her in the hallway, isn’t it? The miserable looking one?’

  Alex looked nervously at her wristwatch. He was coming at eight. She still had an hour yet. She’d showered already, had a go at taming her hair into something deliberate, she’d even sneaked into Jem’s room for another rifle through her makeup.

  ‘You’d look miserable, Jem, if you’d raised a lovechild out of duty because the man you’d married had been at it with the locals.’ Alex felt a twinge of anger at her father again. At least he hadn’t rocked up one day with a baby Malcolm under his arm and said, Here you go, Blythe, don’t say I never bring you anything!

  ‘What?’

  Alex snapped away from thoughts of Mayor Sinclair being the poor bugger who’d raised a cuckoo in his nest. Seeing as Jem still had a good relationship with Ted, she didn’t need to find out about all that, Alex had decided.

  Alex sighed. She wished she hadn’t got into this either. ‘You remember, Mum told us. Great great granddad William was a bit of a git. Had a soft spot for some blonde, she died in childbirth and he brought the baby back for Alice to take care of.’ Extra marital affairs obviously ran in the Fosters’ bloodline.

  Jem rifled through a pile of notes. She held up a pad where she’d been scribbling her own. ‘I remember. So, our great granddad Benjamin, wasn’t actually great-great-grandmother Alice’s son?’

  Alex squinted while she did the maths.

  ‘No,’ she said, half-sure.

  ‘Benjamin was biologically another woman’s son …’

  ‘So Mum said.’

  ‘So we’re probably related to another family from around here?’

  Eugh. Whose idea had it been to start trawling through this lot? ‘If William’s mystery blonde was from the Falls, I suppose so.’ Alex shrugged. ‘So, can I borrow a pair of jeans or something? I’ve only got what I came up here with.’ As much as Alex still loved her Jaws t-shirt, it wasn’t really first-date-in-yonks apparel. Oh God. Did this count as a first date in yonks?

  Jem scratched her head with a pencil. ‘There’s a pile of clean washing on my bed. Help yourself. Might need ironing though.’ Jem slipped the pencil into her mouth and tapped at her teeth with it. ‘Your hair looks good down, Al. Really good. Where are you off to?’

  Alex lifted a self-conscious hand to her hair and swallowed. It was more of a gulp, which was silly, this was her idea after all. To be up front and open and honest.

  ‘Alex, are you all right? You’ve gone a funny colour.’

  Alex could feel her hands had gone clammy. She blurted out a stream of information for Jem to chew on. ‘Finn’s coming to pick me up. We’re going to The Cavern. I’m going to buy him a burger and we’re going to have a few drinks and catch up.’ And laugh, hopefully, laugh and smile and talk and zone out the rest of the world for a few precious hours. ‘Finn’s coming here?’ Jem’s eyes grew rounder. ‘You know Dad’s not going to the hospital tonight, right? I think he’s been at The Cavern this afternoon so he’s probably going to be home soon. There’s only so much backgammon even he can play.’

  Alex tried to ignore the dull thrum of agitation beginning to niggle away at her.

  She tried to shrug nonchalantly. ‘Why would he have been at The Cavern this afternoon? He always goes in the evenings.’

  ‘They’re running a bet on the river race tomorrow, he said he was going for a flutter. But then he also said he was going to meet me for a sandwich at Frobisher’s at lunch time. Anyway, he stood me up. I take it he had to go on a callout first or something. He probably called me but this crappy reception up here.’

  Alex shrugged. Well he definitely hadn’t been at the hospital this afternoon. Alex had left Finn’s studio, dropped Norma back at the house and gone straight to Kerring General while Jem had gone to spend some time probably trying to convince this George to return to London and come back to meet the family at some other, less fraught, time.

  ‘So, jeans are in your washing pile?’

  Jem nodded.

  ‘Don’t suppose you have a top in there too?’

  Jem swished her pencil in the air like she was conducting an orchestra. ‘Knock yourself out. But you have bigger feet than me, so no stretching out my shoes.’

  ‘Thanks, Jem.’ The tension was easing between them, finally. All Alex needed now was to check this George chap out and they were good. On the same page again. Sisters playing for the same team.

  ‘Al? I fixed the record player. We’ll give it a whirl when you’re all glammed up. Then we can take it in for Mum, give her something better to listen to than the drivel they keep putting on the TV for her.”

  ‘Thanks, Jem. I think she’ll really like that.’

  CHAPTER 52

  Fifty minutes later, Maria Callas was soaring through the house, released like a bird from her dusty album sleeve.

  ‘Why
doesn’t Mum listen to her records around the house anymore?’ Alex asked, trying to form her words through a mouth awkwardly held open.

  ‘Sh, stop talking, you’ll make me smudge.’ Jem had gotten fed up already with the complications of genealogy and children born out of wedlock and was perfecting Alex’s lipstick instead. Alex looked at the concentration in Jem’s cool blue eyes. This is what they’d skipped. While Alex had been off setting up home alone and Jem had been trying to survive school.

  Jem met Alex’s eyes and saw the question still there.

  ‘I don’t know, Alex. Maybe she didn’t think she should.’ But Alex didn’t notice Jem’s odd choice of words.

  I do, Alex thought. Blythe had stopped singing in the choir. Then she’d stopped listening to music altogether. Maybe their mum had changed in more ways than they saw after Dill died, maybe Ted thought so too and had sought solace in Louisa’s arms for that very reason. ‘There, bloody gorgeous.’ Jem twisted Alex by the hips to look in her dresser mirror. Maria was just climbing to a crescendo when the front door rattled open noisily. Alex checked her watch.

  ‘Relax, it’s only ten to.’ Jem smiled. ‘It’ll be Dad.’ Because that was a relaxing thought, minutes before Finn was due.

  Downstairs the door slammed closed. Alex saw the same question flash across Jem’s face too.

  ‘Go on, dog! Don’t bother me.’ Jem frowned at Alex then walked over towards the landing. Alex followed.

  ‘Ah, there you are. Not out gallivanting then?’ Alex stood beside Jem and looked down the stairs. Ted was slumped up against the wall, Norma studying him from a few feet back. Jem threw Alex a look. He’d been drinking. All afternoon by the looks of him.

  ‘I didn’t think you’d be back here …’ he slurred. ‘Not when you could be …’ Alex watched her dad wave his hand at the front door behind him, ‘… out there … running around with your little friend.’ Did he know she was going out with Finn? How did he know that already?