“I have absolutely no idea.” Alexander shrugged. “Perhaps persuade Mrs. Myther to stay on and double her salary. Anyway, that isn’t your problem, and I apologize if you feel I’ve put you in a difficult position. You must do whatever is right for you. Forgive me for asking, but Aurora begged me to.”
“May I give you my answer tomorrow?”
“Yes. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I have a dreadful migraine.”
“Of course. Can I do anything to help?”
Alexander stared at her, a look of deep sadness in his eyes. “No, I only wish you could.” He reached out a hand and put it on hers. “Thank you for asking.”
• • •
As Grania made her way home along the cliffs by torchlight, she felt ashamed that the touch of Alexander’s hand on hers had rendered her compliant. At that moment, she would have done anything to help him. Who he was and what he was, she just didn’t know. But the pain she had seen in his eyes stayed with her as she crept into the farmhouse, climbed the stairs to bed and sank, for some reason exhausted, between the sheets.
The whole idea was ridiculous . . . she was a successful sculptor in New York, with a life . . . what was she doing even contemplating moving into a godforsaken house on a cliff, to care for a little girl she had never laid eyes on up until a week ago? To please a man she knew nothing about? On top of which, the Lisle family heritage and Grania’s recent association with it was obviously causing her mother inexplicable pain.
And yet . . . and yet . . .
Grania felt, as the clock ticked away the night hours, that she was entering dangerous waters. She suddenly and urgently longed for the safety, security and normality of the existence she’d known for the past eight years.
Was her relationship with Matt over?
She’d run away so quickly, so hurt . . . like a frightened animal . . .
And never given him the chance to explain. What if she had got it wrong? What if it had been a series of unfortunate events she had linked together to create a scenario that could be easily, and innocently, explainable? After all, she’d just lost her baby . . . her longed-for baby. Had she really been in any kind of emotional position to equivocate? And had she, due to shock and the hormones coursing through her body, overreacted? Grania sighed and turned over yet again in the narrow bed. She missed the huge king-size one that she and Matt had shared. And what they had shared in it. She missed the life . . . she missed him.
Grania came to a decision. Maybe it was time to find out, give Matt a chance to tell his own version of events.
She looked at the clock and saw it was 3:00 a.m., which meant it was 9:00 p.m. in New York. At worst, Matt’s cell phone would be switched off, and the answering machine in the loft on. At best, he might answer either.
Grania sat up, switched the light on and reached for her cell phone. Without thinking any further, she pressed Matt’s name, and the number began to dial. Matt’s voice mail clicked in immediately and Grania pressed the “off” switch. She then dialed the loft number and, after two rings, a voice answered.
“Hello?”
The voice was female, and she knew the owner of it.
Grania stared wordlessly into space as the voice said again, “Hello?”
Oh God, oh God, oh God . . .
“Who is this?”
Grania punched her thumb on the button to end the call.
6
Alexander appeared in the kitchen expectantly the following morning as Grania and Aurora arrived up at the house.
“I’ll do it. Take care of Aurora, that is, for a month anyway.”
“That’s wonderful! Grania, thank you. You can’t know what it means to me to know that Aurora will be safe here with someone she likes.” Alexander glanced at his daughter. “Are you happy, Aurora?”
Neither of the adults needed a vocal answer. It was written all over Aurora’s face. “Oh, yes!” She went to hug her father, then moved to Grania and hugged her too. “Thank you, Grania. I promise I won’t be any trouble.”
“I’m sure you won’t.” Grania smiled.
“And perhaps there might be time to open some of those schoolbooks that are lying upstairs, eh?” Alexander raised an eyebrow at Grania. “She came here with enough work to see her through for a month from her old governess in London. I doubt she’s opened them once.”
“But, Daddy, I’ve been learning to do art.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll see to it that Aurora does some work,” said Grania hurriedly.
“Did you ask Daddy about going to Cork city on the bus?” Aurora asked eagerly, turning to her father. “Grania needs to buy some art supplies, and she said I could go with her. Can I, Daddy? I’ve never been on a bus before.”
“I can’t see the harm in that, as long as Grania doesn’t mind you tagging along.”
“Of course I don’t,” said Grania.
“And perhaps, at the same time, you could acquire what you need for the sculpture we talked about last night?” Alexander questioned.
“Yes, if you’re sure you’d like me to do it. I could show you some of my work on the Internet.”
“As a matter of fact, I looked you up this morning,” he said. “I’m happy for you to go ahead and, of course, we must discuss payment, both for your care of Aurora and the sculpture. I was also wondering whether you knew of anyone in the village who might be happy to come up for a few hours a day to take care of the house? I don’t regard that as something that’s included in your remit as well.”
Grania thought of her mother’s antipathy to the Lisle family and wondered how many others in the village felt similarly too.
“I can ask,” she said uncertainly. “But . . .”
Alexander put his hand up to stop her. “I understand our family does not have a good reputation locally. I’ve never really got to the bottom of the exact reason, being a relative newcomer, but I can assure you that it’s all based on ancient history.”
“People in Ireland have long memories,” Grania agreed. “But I’ll see what I can do.”
Aurora tugged at Grania’s sleeve. “If we don’t go soon, surely we’ll miss the bus?”
“There’s one at midday. We have ten minutes.”
“Then I’ll leave you girls to it,” Alexander said. “Thank you once again, Grania, and I’ll see you before I leave to sort out the details.”
• • •
Having taken an exuberant Aurora on the bus to the city and returned laden with supplies from the art shop, Grania arrived home just as her mother was serving supper.
“And where have you been all day, miss, I’d like to ask?”
“In Cork city.” Grania dumped her shopping bags in the lobby and took off her coat. “I needed to go and buy some materials.”
“I hear you had a friend with you,” said Kathleen as she doled the beef stew into bowls.
“Yes. I took Aurora with me. She’d never been on a bus and she was very excited. Can I help you, Mam?”
Kathleen ignored her offer and placed the bowls on the table.
As Grania sat down, and her father and brother joined them, she felt as though it was she who was eight years old, caught on the bus playing truant from school.
After supper, once Shane had disappeared to the pub and her father was installed in his chair next door, Grania helped her mother clear the plates. “Why don’t I put the kettle on and we’ll have a cup of tea?” she ventured. “I have news for you.”
“You’re going back to New York to your lovely man?” Kathleen’s face brightened for an instant, but Grania shook her head.
“No, Mam, I’m sorry, but I’m doubtful that will ever happen now,” she said sadly as she placed the kettle on the AGA to boil.
“Well, Grania, what I can’t understand is the reason for this. I know it was a terrible shame you lost the baby, but—”
“It’s more than that, Mam, please, and I really don’t want to speak about it.”
“But from the sound of him, whatever it is
Matt has done, he wants to make amends. Won’t you give him a chance, pet?” Kathleen urged.
Grania made two cups of tea and brought them to the table. “I swear, Mam, if there was any way this could be sorted, I’d want it to be. But I think it’s too late. And as you’ve always said, there’s no use crying over spilled milk. I have to move on.”
“So, what are your plans?”
“Well, I know you’re not going to like this,” Grania sipped the burning hot tea, “but Aurora’s father has to go away for a month and I have agreed to take care of her up at Dunworley House while he does so.”
“Holy Mary, Mother of God!” Kathleen raised her hands to her cheeks. “It gets worse, so it does.”
“Please, Mam, as Alexander said to me today, whatever has happened is ancient history. And nothing to do with that poor little girl. And nothing to do with me either,” Grania emphasized, trying to remain as calm as she could. “Alexander wants me to make a sculpture of Aurora while I’m there. He’s going to pay me, and until things are sorted out with Matt, I could use the money, Mam, I really could. Especially as I have no idea whether I’ll be returning to New York.”
Kathleen’s head was now buried in her hands. “Jesus, it’s like history is repeating itself. But you’re right.” She looked up at her daughter. “Why should the past have anything to do with you?”
“Well, Mam, maybe if I knew what the past was, I would understand. As it is, I’m going to take Alexander’s offer. Why shouldn’t I?”
“Why shouldn’t you . . . ?” Kathleen whispered. She made a mental effort to pull herself together. “Well now, the trouble is that both of us seem to be working in the dark. I’d have no idea what has gone wrong with you and Matt, and you can’t understand why it upsets me, you becoming involved with the Lisle family. You say Himself will not be there while you’re staying up at Dunworley House?”
“No, he has to go away.”
“And what do you think of Aurora’s father?”
“He seems like a nice man.” Grania shrugged. “I don’t know him terribly well.”
“I think he was . . . is . . . a good man. But anyone who has the misfortune to get themselves mixed up with that family seems to be tainted by it, and that goes for you too, Grania.” Kathleen wagged a finger at her daughter fiercely.
“Mam, the last thing I want to do is upset you, but until I know—”
“Yes, you’re right,” Kathleen interjected. She smiled weakly and patted her daughter’s hand sadly. “There was me thinking you were the one that got away.”
“It’s only for a month, Mam,” Grania underlined. “And at least I’ll be out from under your feet.”
“And is that really what you think I want, Grania? After ten years of never seeing you? ’Tis a pleasure to have you here and it always will be.”
“Thanks, Mam. I was also wondering whether it might be possible to bring Aurora here to meet you?” ventured Grania. “I’m sure, once you did, you’d understand. She’s such a lovely little girl . . .”
“Don’t you be pushing it, Grania. I’m sure she is as you say, but feelings run high in this house. Best leave it for now.”
“I understand.” She yawned. “Excuse me, I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m for my bed.” Grania stood up and rinsed her mug in the sink. She walked over and kissed her mother on the top of her head. “Night, Mam. Sleep tight.”
“And you, pet.”
When Kathleen had heard Grania’s door close at the top of the stairs, she stood up and wandered into the sitting room to speak to her husband.
“I’m worried about our girl,” she said with a sigh as she sat down in the armchair opposite John. “She’s gone and agreed to go up to Dunworley House for a month to take care of the Lisle child.”
“Has she now?” John turned his attention from the television to study his wife’s anxious expression.
“So, what can we do?” Kathleen asked him.
“I’d say, nothing. She’s a big girl now.”
“John, can you not see what’s happening? You know how Grania has always shut down whenever there’s been emotional bother in her life. She’s doing it now. You can see the pain she’s feeling inside, but she won’t open up.”
“ ’Tis the way she is, Kathleen. Just like her father,” John said with a smile. “We all cope with our problems differently and none are right or wrong.”
“Do you not think it odd she hasn’t shed a tear over losing that baby?”
“As I said, we each have our own ways, darlin’. Let her be.”
“John.” Kathleen could feel herself losing patience with her husband’s usual calm approach to what she could see was impending disaster. “Our daughter is pouring all her maternal feelings into that child. She’s using Aurora as a substitute for what she’s lost. And on top of that, perhaps seeing the girl’s father as a replacement for Matt. And while she’s concentrating all her energies on them, she doesn’t have to think about her own life, or try to sort it out.”
“Ahh, Kathleen,” John replied, finally responding to his wife’s distress, “I can understand how this situation is upsetting you, and you’re wanting to protect our girl, but I don’t see there’s anything we can do. Do you?”
“No,” Kathleen said after a long pause, knowing she was searching for solutions John could not give her, but irritated with him for failing to do so nevertheless. She stood up. “I’m off to bed.”
“I’ll be up shortly,” John replied to his wife’s back. He sighed. When Kathleen was in a state about one of her beloved children, he knew there was little he could do or say to comfort her.
• • •
Three days later, Grania was given a lift up the hill to Dunworley House by her brother.
“Thanks, Shane,” Grania said as she climbed out of the car.
“No bother, Grania.” He smiled. “You just let me know if there’s any lifts you need with that young’un. Take care.”
Grania took her holdall from the boot and entered the kitchen through the back door. A small thunderbolt catapulted itself into her arms.
“You’re here! I’ve been waiting for you all morning.”
“Of course I’m here,” Grania said with a smile. “You didn’t think I wouldn’t come, did you?”
Aurora pursed her pink lips. “Sometimes adults say they will do something, and then they don’t.”
“Well, I’m not one of those adults,” Grania comforted her.
“Good. Now, Daddy said if you arrived, I’m to show you to your room. I’ve put you next to me, so you don’t get lonely. Come on.” Aurora took Grania’s hand and pulled her out of the kitchen, through the hall and up the stairs. She led her along the landing to a pretty bedroom containing a big wrought-iron bed with a white lace counterpane. The walls were pink, with flower-sprigged curtains at the window, framing the stunning view out over the headland.
“Pink’s my favorite color,” said Aurora as she bounced on the big bed. “Is it yours?”
“I love pink and blue and purple and”—Grania joined Aurora on the bed and tickled her—“Yellow and red and orange and green . . .”
Aurora giggled with pleasure, and that was how Alexander found them when he knocked on the door and walked in.
“My goodness! What a racket.”
“Sorry, Daddy.” Aurora sat up immediately. “I hope we didn’t disturb you.”
“No, darling, you didn’t.” He smiled, which, Grania noticed, seemed to be almost more of a grimace. He looked deathly pale.
“If Aurora will allow you out of her clutches for half an hour, Grania, we can go through a few things before I leave,” Alexander suggested.
“Yes.” Grania clambered off the bed and turned to Aurora. “Why don’t you go and find those schoolbooks your father was telling me about, and I’ll see you down in the kitchen shortly.”
Aurora nodded obediently and went off into her bedroom next door as Grania and Alexander walked downstairs. He led her into a small
library, which was equipped with a desk and computer.
“Sit down, Grania, please.”
Grania did so as Alexander handed her a sheet of typed paper. “Listed here are all my contact numbers. I’ve added the name of my solicitor, Hans, too, and if you can’t get hold of me, he’s the best person to speak to. He knows you may be calling.”
“May I ask where you’re going?”
“To the States, and then possibly Switzerland . . .” Alexander shrugged. “I apologize for being unable to be more specific. I’ve also added the names of a plumber and electrician, in case there are any problems with the house. The heating and the water are set on a timer by the boiler in the utility room, which is just off the kitchen. A gardener comes in once a week and also provides logs for the fireplaces.”
“Right,” said Grania, “and I think I may have found a temporary cleaner. She’s the daughter of the lady who runs the village shop and seems like a nice girl.”
“Good. Thank you, Grania. You’ll note that there is a check attached, made out to you, which includes what I think is a fair sum for your time this month, plus payment for the sculpture. I’ve also added enough to cover general expenses such as food, with a sum for emergencies, out of which you can pay the cleaner. You’ll find it all detailed on the sheet. If, by any chance you need more, as I said, please contact my solicitor.”
Grania glanced at the check. It was written out for twelve thousand euros.
“But this is far too much—I . . .”
“I know your sculptures sell for a minimum of ten thousand dollars each, Grania.”
“Yes, but normally the client wants to see the finished product before he pays in full.”
“I don’t need to do that,” said Alexander. “Now, enough of finances. If it weren’t for you, I’d be unable to leave.”
“Really, it’s a pleasure,” Grania reiterated. “I’m terribly fond of Aurora.”
“And you must know that it’s mutual. I haven’t seen my daughter respond to anyone the way she has to you since her mother died. I find it”—Alexander sighed—“very moving.”
The look of innate sadness appeared again in his eyes, and it was all Grania could do to restrain herself from reaching out her hand to comfort him. “I promise I’ll take care of her for you,” she said softly.
The Girl on the Cliff Page 6