David's Sisters

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David's Sisters Page 33

by Forsyth, Moira;


  ‘My view,’ Eleanor said, reaching him a little out of breath, relieved to see that all he was doing was sitting smoking, and gazing out over hillside, woods and firth, to the place beyond. ‘I love it up here.’

  ‘I can see why,’ he said, not looking at her yet.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Dad’s sprained his ankle again, quite badly. But I said we wanted to see him, and as he obviously can’t come here …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, we could go to Pitcairn. Marion says she’ll come too. The three of us. To talk to Dad.’ David put out his cigarette, and buried the stub, but he did not speak. ‘Move over,’ Eleanor told him. There’s room for two on that boulder.’

  They sat in silence together, as a flock of grey-lag geese rose from the water, their clacking a distant chorus, watched them wheel and turn and alight again, as the clouds shifted and broke, and the sun came and went, altering the light moment by moment.

  ‘You’re still my brother,’ Eleanor said.

  He laughed. ‘Let’s not bother with the facts, eh?’

  She flushed. ‘Shut up. Why are you making fun of me?’

  ‘I’m not. Sorry.’

  ‘I thought I was pregnant, you know,’ she said abruptly, the words out almost before she knew she was going to say them. ‘I thought I was having a baby, with Gavin. Then I thought he would leave, maybe even go back to his – to the woman he was with before. I was still unsure of him, it was all a bit unreal. I realised I could easily end up having a baby on my own. And before I knew all this, all this about Alice, I thought, Well, I’ll ask David. He can come and help me, stay with me.’

  ‘Ask me?’

  ‘Yes. I thought, If I can’t have Gavin, if I have to go through this on my own, David will come. To help me bring up the child.’

  For several long minutes David did not speak. Eleanor kept looking at the firth, and waited. Then he put his arm round her and squeezed, tight.

  ‘You know something? That’s the nicest thing anybody’s ever said to me.’ He shook his head, almost laughing, but she saw the glitter of tears on his lashes, blinked away. ‘Oh God, Eleanor, what a fate for any kid. Me as its guardian.’

  ‘Well,’ Eleanor persisted, ‘that’s what I would have wanted.’

  ‘You’re not then? Not pregnant?’

  Eleanor smiled. ‘No, I’m safe. You’re safe.’

  ‘I’d have quite liked it,’ he smiled, putting his arm round her a little cautiously, conscious of his aching ribs. ‘A reason to hang around. Defy the curse.’

  ‘You don’t need a reason.’ Eleanor turned to him, touching his bruised face. ‘You’ve got us.’

  ‘Ah.’ Still smiling, he moved his head to kiss the palm of her hand. ‘My sisters.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘OK then, sister Eleanor,’ he said, breezy again, grinning at her. ‘Tell me about this Gavin who’s too feeble to hang around for his own kid.’

  ‘I never said that!’

  ‘Really? Your turn, Eleanor, your turn to talk.’

  In the open air, the truth spread out all around them, unexplored terrain, and yet familiar, familiar as her skin, and David’s, Eleanor realised she could say anything now, anything, and it would be all right. This may not last, she thought, but right now, we can say anything.

  ‘Tell me,’ David said again. Tell me all about it.’

  27

  ‘I’m going to Pitcairn for a day or two,’ Marion told Fergus, when he came home on the evening of the day this was decided. She had not seen him since he had left her in bed at eight o’clock.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Dad has sprained his ankle.’

  ‘Ah.’

  Marion was putting knives and forks on the table for their evening meal.

  ‘Is it ready?’ he asked. ‘Will I shout for the kids?’

  ‘In a minute.’ She turned to the cooker and tested the potatoes. ‘Two minutes.’

  ‘I’ll get changed then.’ But as he reached the door, she called him back. He had known there was more. He watched her sit down at the table, slowly, as if something hurt.

  ‘Eleanor says David’s refusing to have anything to do with Alice’s house or her money.’

  ‘Is that what the visit’s about? I doubt there’s anything you can do.’

  ‘Well, the three of us are going down. Eleanor and David and me.’

  ‘You’re the mediators, you and Eleanor?’

  ‘You’re laughing at me.’

  ‘No, indeed.’ He sat down opposite her. ‘You’ve enough to cope with. And David should be resting.’

  ‘I know, but …’

  ‘It’s been a shock, this business. You need a bit of time to adjust to it.’

  Marion nodded. ‘Yes, we do. But in a strange way, it’s not so bad for me. I don’t mind as much as Eleanor does. I even feel warmer towards David, because of it. You know, I think I need something to focus on that’s nothing to do with cancer, with my own body.’

  ‘Well, as long as you take care. Don’t go overdoing things. Eleanor will be driving?’

  ‘She’ll have to.’

  ‘Good.’

  They sat in silence for a moment, then he patted her folded hands. ‘Not long now.’

  ‘No, not long now.’

  But they knew this was not true. Not long till the scan, the result, not much longer till the next treatment, or, with luck, the next scan, the next good result. Longer till the one after. Time stretched out, like a road hidden by darkness, with many turnings.

  ‘The potatoes must be done,’ she said. ‘Give the kids a shout, before you get changed.’

  The same evening, Eleanor went in to tell Gavin what was happening.

  ‘How long will you be away?’

  ‘Two days, not more.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Gavin.’

  ‘It’s OK. You’ve got family stuff to sort out.’

  ‘Yes. Look, it’s best kept till I get back, but we do need to talk properly, don’t we?’

  ‘Sure, if you want to.’ He smiled at her, untroubled, friendly.

  ‘Gavin?’

  ‘Mm?’ He leaned back in his chair, watching her. Eleanor stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. She wanted to ask what she had never asked before, with him. There had never been any need, of course. But he seemed more distant now, separated from her by all the things that had stood in the way when she first met him: his past and hers, different lives. I want him dose again. She did not know the words to use. ‘Could we … before I go home … could we go to bed?’ He laughed. ‘God, from your expression, I thought you were about to ask something really impossible!’

  ‘Like what?’ She was on his knee now, his arms round her, her voice muffled against his chest. ‘Would I marry you, some awful thing like that.’ ‘Oh,’ she cried, ‘what does that matter?’ What she wanted was the comfort of his body, fitting all the length of hers, the smell and taste and touch of him, the marriage of flesh. I am drunk on sex, she thought, as he moved inside, moved with her. Here at least, there was no need to make any sense of what might come, or of the confused past, to know or think of anything beyond the bed that cradled them like a tiny craft on a great ocean, the sea engulfing, yet keeping them safe.

  ‘It’s a risk, of course,’ Marion said.

  They were on their way to Pitcairn, and had stopped at Brodie’s for soup. Usually, this was too soon, just outside Forres, but it had been after eleven by the time they set out.

  ‘What’s a risk?’ David asked, bringing napkins and cutlery to their table.

  ‘Throwing her lot in with Gavin.’

  ‘So are you going to?’

  They were both looking at her. Eleanor felt exasperated, but touched by so much concern. ‘I can’t. I’ve told you – there’s Claire, and Marion, and my whole life.’

  ‘Claire will be fine,’ Marion soothed.

  ‘I’ll watch out for Marion – ri
ght?’ David picked up his soup spoon, waving it for emphasis. ‘I’ll live in your cottage, so you can keep it to come back to if things don’t work out.’

  Marion shook her head. ‘You amaze me, David Cairns.’

  ‘The Amazing David Cairns, and his even more amazing dancing – what?’

  ‘Seagulls,’ Eleanor offered, seeing a couple swoop down into the garden of the restaurant, and snatch up pieces of bread.

  David grinned. ‘Indiscretions, is what I thought.’ He tapped the table next to Marion’s plate. ‘Eat your soup,’ he urged. ‘Do you good.’

  Marion smiled. ‘I do try. Everything tastes the same, though. Like a sort of wallpaper paste.’ She made an effort, and managed a few spoonfuls.

  They were in the conservatory extension of the restaurant, and the doors to the garden stood open. Now and again a cool gust of wind shivered past them, but the sun was out, and they were bathed in warmth.

  Too hot for soup,’ Marion sighed, apologising, pushing away her half-empty dish.

  ‘What do you want instead? Ice cream?’

  ‘No. Nothing, David. Really.’

  ‘Coffee then?’

  ‘I’ll have coffee,’ Eleanor said.

  Marion shook her head. ‘Maybe a glass of water?’

  ‘Sure.’ David went back to the counter to queue again.

  ‘What are we doing?’ Marion leaned across the table towards Eleanor.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I mean, why are we going to Pitcairn?’

  ‘Well, to talk to Dad.’

  ‘About Alice?’

  Eleanor was silent, gazing out at the garden where a family was arranging itself at one of the picnic tables, tucking the children into chairs, taking plates of food from their trays. They were all talking at once.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said eventually. ‘I suppose we want to understand better what really happened. But we have to persuade David to accept what Alice left him – the house, the money.’

  ‘Have you spoken to him about that again?’

  ‘The house? Not really – he was so upset about it.’

  ‘But he agreed to come?’

  ‘Yes, but he feels bad about it, I know he does.’

  They both turned to look at David. He was discussing the merits of the home baking on offer with the girl behind the counter, oblivious of the queue behind him. The girl was pointing to cakes and biscuits in turn, looking up at David, smiling and answering him. David seemed to make his choice, joking about it, and the girl laughed, picking up what he wanted with her tongs, handing over plates.

  ‘For goodness sake,’ Marion sighed. ‘I said I didn’t want anything to eat.’

  ‘He’s trying to look after you,’ Eleanor pointed out. ‘You’re still losing weight.’

  ‘Ach.’ Marion was impatient. Then she softened. ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. He does mean well, for once.’ She turned back to Eleanor. ‘His face is a lot better. What about the man who set his heavies on him? He’s not going back to work for him?’

  ‘Not a chance.’ Eleanor was quite certain. ‘I think he means it about staying on here, you know. He feels closer to us now, it’s easier for him to do it.’

  ‘Now we all know about Alice?’

  Eleanor looked back at David. He had just paid at the till, and was lifting his full tray to bring it to their table. ‘It can’t have been easy, carrying that sort of secret on his own. No wonder he kept going off.’ She still found it hard to forgive the silence, the deception he had kept up all through a time when she had thought they were close. But she was trying to understand.

  ‘He won’t stay now either,’ Marion predicted. ‘You’ll see. He’s not in the habit of it, even when there’s no secret to keep.’

  ‘You don’t want him to.’ But Eleanor smiled, making a joke of this. ‘You still think he’s trouble.’

  ‘Well, he is. Och, maybe illness makes you fanciful, as well as feeble.’ Marion turned her head to look at David, who had paused with the tray to speak to a small child in his way, whose mother gathered her up, apologised, answered David when he commented on the child. What does it amount to, she thought, the damage he seems to have done? A dog dying one Christmas, a car accident that was not his fault, a heart attack he certainly could not have caused, Eleanor in tow with some man who’s only going to break her heart – and me? No, no, none of it had anything to do with David. And yet …

  ‘Here we are. Thought you might like a biscuit or something. The girl says the shortbread’s good.’ David began to empty the tray, putting out two plates with large wedges of shortbread, and one with a chunk of something that had a heavy layer of peanuts embedded in toffee. ‘I fancied this,’ he went on, ‘but one of you can have it if you like.’ He sat down to find both his sisters laughing at him, and grinned, rueful. ‘Oh well.’

  Eleanor picked up her coffee cup. ‘It’s all right, you can keep the peanut thing.’

  ‘I can’t eat all of this,’ Marion began, then caught Eleanor’s eye. ‘But thank you. I’ll have half, and you can take the rest.’

  How careful we all are of each other, Eleanor thought, breaking her piece of shortbread in pieces, the coating of sugar gritty on her fingers.

  ‘What will you do,’ Marion asked David, ‘if you stay on in the Highlands?’

  ‘Oh, I’m going to stay.’ Briskly, he stirred sugar into his coffee. There’s this guy I know in the States – an old mate – and he’s involved in an industrial exchange scheme: people from one country go and do the same job in another for six months or a year. They get new experience, give their expertise to other people. Scientists do it, businessmen, even farmers. He thought I could handle this end of it. It’s been going in the Central Belt for ages. In fact, I was thinking of packing in the internet thing and doing some work for Jay in Edinburgh. But this will be better – really innovative – to bring it to the Highlands.’ He seemed to become aware of silence, of Eleanor and Marion looking at each other, not at him. ‘It’s OK, Jay’s a really decent guy – no worries there.’ He took a large bite of his peanut and toffee slice, and beamed at them.

  ‘Well,’ Eleanor said, ‘it sounds interesting.’

  ‘It’s a question of making contacts,’ David went on. ‘So I thought I’d get a job here for a while, maybe do some consultancy work, just till I get to know my way around.’ He turned to Eleanor. ‘Could be some work for you in it, if you’re still here. Or even in Aberdeen.’

  For a moment, Eleanor saw herself in a suit, making business contacts, flying regularly to the States.

  ‘But where’s the money in it?’ Marion asked. ‘I mean, is this Jay going to pay you?’

  ‘Well, it’s commission. I get a fee for every exchange I fix up.’

  ‘I see.’ Eleanor let go of the woman in the suit, with her mobile phone and lap-top. She tapped away on high-heeled shoes, fictional, impossible.

  David studied the last piece of his peanut slice. ‘Anyway, I thought I’d give it a go.’

  ‘So you’re not going to live in Alice’s house?’ Marion asked. Someone has to say it, she thought. We can’t pussyfoot around, end up having some sort of scene at Pitcairn. It’s not fair on Dad, or on Mamie.

  David flushed. ‘It’s Mamie’s home,’ he said. ‘What do you take me for? You’re not suggesting I live there with her? That really would be a crazy idea.’ In there, somewhere, was the admission that all his ideas had some degree of craziness, but Marion knew better than to pick him up on that just now.

  Eleanor was thinking of what their father had told them. She wanted to say, ‘Mamie walked up and down with you in her arms all night. You screamed and screamed, but she was the one who mothered you, when Alice couldn’t – or would not.’

  ‘No,’ she said to David, ‘of course you couldn’t do that. You want to be independent. But at least it will be yours one day. It’s a kind of security, isn’t it?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know what to do with security, after all these years. When Mamie … whe
n it’s eventually mine, I’ll sell it, divide the money up amongst all your kids.’ His face had closed, and Eleanor felt afraid, as if he were still divided from them, by secrets they could never know. Sharing the knowledge of his birth had seemed to unite them, but that might not last. It could take him away again.

  ‘Never mind about it just now,’ she said gently, touching his arm. ‘Mamie will go on for years, and it’s her home, as you said.’

  The tight line of David’s mouth relaxed. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That’s not going to change.’

  ‘What about the money? You know there’s some money as well?’

  ‘Yes.’ David turned to Marion as she spoke. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘you must know how easily I could get through that.’

  ‘Yes. That’s what I’m afraid of.’

  He shrugged. ‘You’ll have to keep me right, then. Take charge of it or something.’

  ‘Give you enough to live on, but not enough to squander on hopeless business ventures?’

  Anxiously, Eleanor looked from David to Marion, back to David, but they were both smiling.

  ‘Yeah,’ he agreed. ‘Something like that.’

  They lapsed into silence, Eleanor finishing her coffee, Marion pushing away her plate with its half-eaten piece of shortbread. After a moment, David said, ‘Better get going, eh?’

  They gathered their things together. Then David turned to stand in front of them, spreading his hands wide: ‘I mean it, about the house. It’s in Aberdeen, it’ll be worth a fair bit. It would give your kids a nice sum each – for uni, or a deposit on a flat, to take them back-packing round the world – whatever. If I do that, I’ll feel I’ve done something good. You know?’

  ‘Yes,’ Marion said. ‘We know.’

  Eleanor’s eyes filled with tears, and she turned away, so that they would not see. What can I do, she thought, that will be something good? In atonement. For she knew what David meant, better than Marion ever could.

 

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