‘It must be strange, having a father and not knowing anything about him.’ He held her gaze.
‘They don’t want me to know.’ She hesitated. ‘My mother called him a coward.’
‘Teilo Hopkins, a coward?’ A look of surprise crossed Owen’s face. ‘Not the Teilo I remember. He was always up for dare. A right jack-the-lad.’
‘You wouldn’t say he was a coward?’
‘No,’ Owen said. ‘The only thing your dad was scared of was bats.’
‘Really?’
‘Terrified of them. We took the p… you know.’
‘That doesn’t make him a coward though, does it?’
‘Not in a month of Sundays, bach.’
Sixty-three
The choice to trust a person is often made in an instant.
It might have been the offer of a puppy, or that he made observations rather than asked questions. It could have been because Owen Penry wasn’t embarrassed to wear cowboy boots in the wilds of Wales. For the first time, Cadi felt able to discuss her father without feeling she was violating some sort of sacred taboo. And with someone who seemed to have liked him. ‘He was with my sister the day she died. She drowned. Did you know that?’
Owen inclined his head. ‘The way I heard it, it was a tragic accident.’
There were so many things Cadi wanted to ask him the words threatened to collide with each other. The photograph of Violet sat on the table between them. Cadi’s finger traced her mother’s face. ‘I found a picture of them together: Mam and Lili, my dad and the baby. She’d cut out his face. She must have really hated him.’
Owen laid the wheel on the floor and sat down across from her. He breathed a sigh so deep it made his shoulders move. ‘My dad did some pretty bad stuff. I had this horrible desire for revenge.’
‘What she did wasn’t revenge. He was dead, it was far worse.’
‘People react to bad things in different ways, Cadi. And we don’t always have a lot of control when we’re in pain. My feelings about my father ate me up and in the end it made no difference to what he’d done. I couldn’t change it.’
‘Sylvia said that.’
‘Sylvia?’
‘Lili’s best friend.’
‘I remember. Bossy, like Lili.’
Cadi smiled and shrugged at the same time. ‘She said, even if we can’t change what’s happened we can change the way we deal with it.’
‘She’s not wrong.’ Owen picked up the picture of Violet. ‘It’s taken me a while to work it out.’
‘I tried talking to Violet. I think I made it worse.’
‘Well, I know that feeling, bach. It isn’t true though. Everything we do is the best we can.’ He tapped the photograph. ‘Like your mam did.’
There was, Cadi decided, something cautious about Owen she recognised. He wasn’t like any adult she knew. He left gaps for her to think and didn’t seem to mind when she had nothing to say. In Owen, she saw a glimpse of someone as set apart as herself. Loneliness and secrecy had made her careful though. She wasn’t about to tell him about the ghost. It didn’t mean she couldn’t explain how finding out about her father made her feel.
She studied her fingernails. ‘I know he killed himself. I found out. And now I’m so mad with both of them. All the lies and being treated like an idiot. Only it’s hard being angry with Lili because sometimes I think I love her more than I love Violet. It’s like she’s my real mother.’
‘Have you told her that? Your mam?’
‘God, no. How could I? It would be awful. For her, I mean.’
‘Maybe she needs to know. Okay, it might upset her at first, but it would be honest, and a start.’
‘You mean if I tell the truth, maybe she’d be honest too?’
‘I’m not saying anything, Cadi. It’s up to you. Some lies, well, they’re more about people protecting themselves. Or the people they love.’
‘They still hurt.’
He nodded.
The light had changed. She wondered what time it was. ‘What do you think about people who keep secrets?’
‘A secret’s only a secret until another person knows it or someone unpicks it. Then it’s only a matter of time before it becomes common knowledge.’ He paused. ‘A lot of the time, people get told stuff they’d rather not know.’
You can’t un-know things.
‘I’ve sort of started the unpicking. There’s more though, I know there is.’
‘So ask questions.’
‘You make it sound easy.’
‘No, I make it sound scary.’ His grave face softened. He stood up and began slotting the bicycle wheel into the frame. ‘I can take you back in my van if you like. I need to go down by the village anyway.’
‘Thanks.’
He tightened the wing nuts on the wheel’s hub. ‘And for what it’s worth, I don’t have you down as a coward either.
‘No?’
‘No. You’re one of the Hopkins tribe.’
It was one of those moments Cadi knew she would look back on. ‘Well spotted, cowboy.’
‘Bird girl.’
She tried a smile and thought it might be working. ‘Whatever. Let’s do it.’
He slid the photograph of Violet into his wallet. Cadi wheeled the bicycle to the door and Owen held it open for her. His van, unexpectedly smart and efficient looking, was parked at the side of the house. He lifted the bicycle into the back. ‘They don’t make ‘em like this anymore.’
‘I wonder why?’
He opened the passenger door for her. ‘Have you got a phone?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘Swap numbers, in case we need them?’
In the distance, a rumble of thunder sounded. Cadi thought about her mother, surrounded by sadness. She wanted to shake her and shout: talk to me, tell me the truth. Tell me the truth and make it about both of us.
Sixty-four
If a woman wants to maintain an air of mystery, she ought to wear grey with a hint of lilac.
Lili knew this as surely as she knew purple suggested wisdom, green announced fertility and the colour red was a dead giveaway for desire. Having little interest in appearing wise, even less in babies, and still unsure about passion, she tied an amethyst scarf shot with silver in her hair and telephoned Pomona.
‘I’m going to the lake for a walk. I can show you if you like.’
‘I’d love to. Shall I come down now?’
Pomona had never seen such abundance. Creamy honeysuckle trailed through the hedges. Cornflowers and buttercups and a profusion of flowers she didn’t know the names of lined the verges.
‘Some of them are over now,’ Lili said. ‘The dog roses and cuckoo flowers have finished.’
‘It’s still gorgeous.’
‘Yes.’ Lili pointed out red campion and the purple stars of deadly nightshade.
‘My mother calls this one a weed,’ Pomona said, pointing to a tall pink flower.
‘Ragged Robin,’ Lili said. ‘A weed’s only a flower in the wrong place. At least that’s what mine used to say.’
‘Do you think they would have argued?’
Blue and yellow butterflies danced through the grass, bees dotted the clover and all around them, Pomona heard the sound of birdsong. The world seemed alive to her and new.
Lili said, ‘Where does your mother live?’
‘In Mountain Ash. My parents are GPs – they have a practice there. All very nice and middle-class.’
‘Not for you though?’ When Pomona didn’t say anything, Lili went on, ‘You went to Cardiff.’
‘Yes.’
‘Come on,’ Lili said. ‘Let’s sit by the lake and if you want to, you can tell me about Vanessa.’
On certain days you felt the lake before you saw it. And when you finally came upon it, it hinted at other, deeper worlds. Logic said it couldn’t be anything more than the reflection of frayed clouds, yet in a certain light the lake appeared mindful.
‘It’s alive,’ Pomona said. ‘Oh my God, L
ili, it’s perfect.’
‘There’s a lot going on under the surface. Water’s the same as birds; it’s got its own language.’
‘Like rain?’
‘Yes, like the rain.’
Pomona watched tiny waves lap against the lip of the lake. From the reeds, the swans appeared. She walked to the water’s edge. ‘What a place.’ She filled her lungs and raised her arms. ‘It feels like a secret, and now I know it too.’
Which means it’s no longer a secret. Lili fingered the amethyst scarf. ‘Unless you’re local, why would you know about it? It’s not the sort of place people come to.’
‘Does that mean I’m a local now?’ Pomona laughed and slipped off her sandals. ‘I didn’t think it would be so easy.’ She dipped her toes in the water. ‘Wow; it’s cold!’
‘It’s always cold. And really deep, out in the middle.’
‘This is like having a lake in your back garden. I’d come here all the time if I lived in your house.’
‘You’re only down the road.’
‘It’s not the same. Oh, I’d sleep here.’
‘You’re not afraid of the dark then?’
Pomona gave her a startled look.
Lili smiled. ‘Did that sound creepy?’
‘A bit.’
‘Sorry, it’s my default setting.’
‘Do you have a story about a lake, a deep, scary lake full of sirens and monsters?’
Listen…
Across the water a bird cried and the lost sound of it ran through Pomona like a shiver.
‘As a matter of fact,’ Lili said, ‘I do. Only it isn’t a fairy story.’ She placed her hand on Pomona’s arm. ‘We didn’t come here to talk about me.’
‘We didn’t come here to talk about anything in particular, did we? And you know most of my story.’
Lili folded her arms in her lap. ‘Alright.’ The lake held its breath. ‘This is where my niece died.’
Pomona imagined a thousand reasons for Lili not to go on.
‘My brother loved this place. He and Dora came here all the time.’ Lili breathed out with the ebb of the water. ‘She was only four. When it happened. He can’t have taken his eyes off her for more than a few seconds. You know what they say – a child can drown in three inches of water.’ Lili frowned. ‘I used to think that was rubbish. It isn’t.’
‘Oh my God, Lili, it was here?’ Any other words Pomona might have wanted to say stuck in her throat.
Lili, grave Lili smiled. ‘It’s okay. Honestly, it is. The sadness never goes away, but it does change. It was a long time ago. Fourteen years.’ The words came easily then, as if she told one of her own stories. Once upon a time – simple words to tell a tragedy. ‘My brother killed himself and my sister-in-law discovered she was pregnant and went a little bit mad.’
‘I don’t know what to say. And that’s so trite.’
‘There isn’t anything to say.’
For a long moment they looked at one another.
‘The worst thing has been keeping Cadi in the dark.’
‘Why did you have to?’
‘I promised Violet, and it’s the worst day’s work I ever did.’ Lili shook her head. ‘Another thing my mother said was, never make a promise you wouldn’t ask someone else to keep.’
The lost bird called again, the sound so different from the sweetness of blackbirds and wood pigeons Pomona shivered, and reached for Lili’s hand.
There’s a ghost haunting my niece.
It was too soon.
Lili leaned forward, away from Pomona’s hand, her own wrapped round her knees. ‘Cadi went to the library and found the newspaper report about the inquest. She knows Teilo killed himself. I think a showdown’s coming and to be honest, I don’t know whether to be relieved or run for the hills.’
‘My mother has some great sayings too,’ Pomona said. ‘Most of them make about as much sense as Latin, mind. When Vanessa died she said, “If you have to start living a new life half way through the one you thought you had, the only thing to do was look upon it as an adventure.” At the time it felt like an insult, but eventually I realised she was right.’
‘Cadi’s still a child, it’s different.’ Lili didn’t mean to sound sharp. ‘She’s been through too much. And Violet’s been awful: self-centred and remote. I’m not saying she hasn’t had good reason; I’m not sure where they go from here, that’s all. It’s a mess and it’s been buried for a long time. Only it’s started leaking, like…’ She waved her hands. ‘Like mud from a broken welly?’
‘Priceless.’ Pomona spluttered. ‘Sorry, but gardening metaphors in the face of tragedy?’
‘I am a published author, you know.’ Lili managed a smile. ‘And thank you.’
‘What did I say?’
‘You reminded me to sometimes see the funny side?’
‘I’m sure both our mothers said that.’
‘Where next though, for Violet and Cadi, that’s what I’m worried about.’
‘Trust, and leave them to it?’ Pomona paused.
Lili sighed. ‘You’re probably right,’ she said.
Watching the water, she was reminded of a flawed mirror. If she narrowed her eyes she thought she glimpsed thin figures running across the surface of the lake. She blinked and the water stretched in innocent ripples.
Pomona flexed her toes. ‘I could stay here all day.’
‘I’m pleased you don’t find it too creepy. A lot of people do.’
‘It’s a lake, Lili. You can’t blame the water for being there.’
‘Violet makes my space smaller.’ Lili stepped across a clump of buttercups growing between the stones on the path. ‘If that makes sense.’
‘Of course it does. I don’t see why it has to be your responsibility though.’
‘Because Violet’s a mess and she makes me nervous and sometimes I don’t trust her.’ She stopped and gathered some flowers. ‘Because of Teilo too but mostly because of Cadi.’
‘I’ve never been much good with other people’s preoccupations,’ Pomona said. ‘I suppose that makes me selfish.’
‘You’ve been very patient with mine.’
‘It’s different. It’s genuine.’ Pomona picked some stems of campion and handed them to Lili. ‘Trivia exhausts me. I don’t think I’m a particularly nice person.’
‘Have you been very lonely since Vanessa died?’
‘For a long time it was horrible, until it got better.’
The cottage came into view.
‘Tea,’ said Lili. ‘Tea and cake and please, it really is your turn. If you want to tell me, I’m a good listener.’
Sixty-five
Pomona’s memories filled Lili’s kitchen. Her eyes were filled with old pain. She was in the sad cold room again, and Lili could see her, holding the thin hand as a nurse laid a sheet over the beloved face.
‘It happened so fast it was over almost before any of us had time to register it.’
One moment, Vanessa had been on her way to the cash machine, the next she was hit by a driver over the limit, flung into the air, landing with her head against a concrete streetlamp.
A clock ticked. Lili wanted to cry or say she was sorry, or both. The words dried in her throat.
‘Please, don’t say you’re sorry,’ Pomona said. ‘I’m not, not anymore.’
Lili nodded.
‘It’s the same as Dora, and your brother. Vanessa was an amazing woman.’ Her smile almost broke Lili’s heart. ‘For a long time, I couldn’t bear to be alone. I found my way through though – we do or we don’t. I’m lucky. We had a lot of good years. Some people don’t have that.’
‘Lucky is one way of putting it.’
‘After what Mam said, I started waking up every day knowing I had a choice. If I was going to be on my own and stay sane, then so be it.’
‘Love is very hard on us,’ Lili said.
‘You think it’s hard to love someone?’
‘Not exactly.’ A film had formed on Lili’s cold tea
. She grabbed the cup and drank it down. ‘It’s tricky, that’s all.’
‘I suppose.’
‘You loved her very much, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, and it took me a long time to forgive her. I hated her for leaving me. And now I’ll never forget her. She was funny and clever and kind. And so organised, she always knew where things were. Not like me.’
‘I don’t think I’ve ever been really in love.’
‘Never?’
‘Not anything deep, not like you had with Vanessa. In any case, it gets mixed up – friendship, love and sex. Look at Violet and my brother.’
‘Are you talking about them, or yourself?’
Lili needed to change the direction of the conversation. ‘I used to think she’d summoned him. Now I’m not sure. Whatever drew them together, my brother was the magician. He picked Violet out, not the other way round.’ Time peeled back and Lili felt Violet’s cold hand in hers, and the pulse of her blemished heart. ‘Because she was… whatever she was: desperate, lost, scared? And he thought he could make her into something else.’
‘A lot of men do that.’
On safer ground now, Lili said, ‘She was a skinny weed, a wild flower in the wrong place if you like. And Teilo never was much of a gardener.’
‘But the weed didn’t die?’
‘No. Not quite, although I think she tried.’
Violet had wanted the opposite of what she got. Somehow it ended up the same, the same wounds, lies and loneliness. Violet’s experience of love had been years of disappointment.
Lili looked at Pomona and just as quickly lowered her eyes. Lili knew all about love. And spells. She knew you had to be careful with them both.
Sixty-six
Cadi wanted it to rain so badly, she thought she might get out of Owen’s van and dance up a storm. Her insides were as dry as bone and her tongue had tied itself up in sandpaper knots. On the lane, she pointed to a passing place and without questioning her, Owen pulled in.
‘I don’t think I can do this.’
‘Okay.’
‘If I said that to Lili, she’d say, of course you can and something about nothing ventured.’
He wound down his window. ‘It’s your call.’
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