“Thank God,” gulped Alexander.
Grania could see relief had brought him close to tears.
He turned and put a hand on Grania’s shoulder. “Thank you, Grania, for knowing my daughter better than I do.”
Alexander tiptoed toward Aurora then bent down and gently scooped her up in his arms. Aurora’s eyes half opened at the motion, and she smiled up at her father.
“Hello, Daddy,” she said sleepily.
“Hello, darling. We’re going to take you home to tuck you up in bed, safe and warm.”
Grania followed behind as Alexander carried his child and placed her on Grania’s lap in the back of the car.
“Hello, Grania.” Aurora smiled up at her. “I’ve missed you.”
“And I’ve missed you too.”
“How did you find me, Daddy?” she asked.
“It wasn’t me, darling,” Alexander said as he drove up the hill toward Dunworley House. “It was Grania who guessed where you’d be.”
“Yes. I knew she would.” Aurora sounded almost smug. “She’s just like a real mother. I love you, Grania,” she said. “You won’t leave me again, will you?”
Grania looked down at the desperation in Aurora’s eyes, took a deep swallow and said, “No, darling, I’ll never leave you again.”
• • •
Later, when Aurora was safely in bed with a hot-water bottle to warm her up, the puppy had been taken by Shane back down to its mother, and Alexander had called the guards to say Aurora had been found, he offered Grania a brandy in the kitchen.
“Thank you.” Grania sat down wearily and nursed the glass in her hands.
“I’ve sent Lindsay home to her mother’s in Skibbereen,” said Alexander. “She was pretty shaken.” He sat down next to Grania looking exhausted. “My God, what a relief. At least Aurora seems relatively unscathed. Chilled, but unscathed,” he repeated.
“Yes. The worst thing was that I thought . . .” Grania stared at Alexander, and he nodded, his face turning in the direction of the cliffs too.
“So did I.” He reached out a hand to Grania. “I can’t say how thankful I am that you found her for me. If I’d lost Aurora . . .” Alexander shook his head. “I think that would just about have ended it.”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“But, Grania, listen to me,” Alexander’s tone was urgent, “Aurora is a beautiful, sweet-natured and bright little girl. But she’s also manipulative, like her mother. Tonight was a cry for help, and I don’t think it was a cry for me. It was you she wanted. Please, you mustn’t give in to what amounts to emotional blackmail.”
“I don’t think she means it that way, Alexander, really.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t,” he agreed. “It’s her childish way of trying to get you to come back. The fact she loves you the way that she does is testament to how you’ve cared for her. And the fact she feels safe with you. But, and I underline the ‘but,’ you mustn’t be swayed by her. You have no obligation to my daughter whatsoever. And I would hate to think that, in any way, she was curtailing the plans you must have made by now.”
What plans? thought Grania to herself, only able to focus on Alexander’s physical presence so close to her and his hand touching hers.
“I hear what you’re saying, Alexander, and I appreciate it. The problem is,” Grania sighed, “I love her too.”
“I reiterate, she is not your responsibility. She’s mine.”
“What are your plans, Alexander?” Grania looked at him square in the eyes, wanting to know, for all of their sakes.
“I . . .” Alexander withdrew his hand from hers, sighed heavily, and stroked his fingers through his hair. “Grania, I need to tell you something.”
“Tell me then,” she said softly.
He turned to her, and took both her hands in his. He searched her face before he shook his head. “I can’t.”
The brandy had softened Grania’s normal reserve. It was her turn now to squeeze his hands. “Please, Alexander, tell me.”
He leaned toward her, their knees now touching, and planted a soft kiss on her lips. “Oh God.” He kissed her again. “I . . . you’re wonderful.” With that, he drew her into his arms and kissed her properly. She smelled the scent of him closing around her, powerful and so wanted. Her own arms reached around him as she clung to him and kissed him with equal fervor. Then, suddenly, he broke away.
“Forgive me! I can’t . . . mustn’t do this. None of this is fair on you. Whatever my feelings for you, I—” He stood up suddenly, anger on his perfect features. He picked up his brandy glass and threw it at a wall, where it smashed elegantly to the floor.
Grania watched his action in amazement and horror.
“Oh God! Sorry . . .” He sat back down and folded her in his arms again. Then he gently pushed her away from him and looked into her eyes. “You have no idea how difficult this is for me.”
“Perhaps you could try explaining.” Grania managed a rational response.
“Yes. But I can’t.” He took her fingers, molded them around his own and reached forward to kiss her face gently. “If you only knew the thoughts I’ve had . . . how beautiful I think you are . . . how kind, how gentle, how loving, how alive. And what you’ve given to Aurora, well, I can never repay that. I’d give anything to sweep you into my arms right now and carry you upstairs.” He was tracing the contours of her face with his fingertips. “But believe me, Grania, you’re best to get out of this doomed house. Go back to your life and live it elsewhere. Forget about me and Aurora, and—”
“Alexander,” Grania said weakly, “You’re sounding like a scene out of a bad movie. Please stop. It’s not getting us anywhere.”
“Yes, you’re right. Lily always said I had a dramatic side to my nature. I apologize. It’s been a pretty dramatic night.” He smiled grimly.
“Yes, it has.”
Alexander looked away from her. “I’m meant to be leaving tomorrow. I think I should delay it, for Aurora’s sake.”
“How long will you be away? Will it be longer than two months?”
“If the worst comes to the worst, it may be a good deal longer than that.”
“Look, I’ve got a suggestion,” said Grania.
“What?”
“You might have noticed tonight how fond my family is of Aurora. Why don’t I take her down there to live with me while you’re away? If I decide, at any point, I need to return to my life in New York, she will at least have the continuity of my family there for her. And then, when you’re back, you can make some decisions.”
“You think your parents would mind?”
“After tonight’s performance?” Grania raised her eyebrows. “I think it’s pretty obvious they wouldn’t. I haven’t managed to produce any grandchildren for them yet, so they seem to have adopted Aurora.”
“Well . . . that sounds like a dream scenario to me.” His drawn face relaxed a little. “Thinking of Aurora being cared for in a proper family. I would, of course, pay for everything she costs you and your parents.”
“Right. I’ll give my mother a quick call in the morning to check if it’s OK, but I’m sure it will be.” Grania was still reeling from the gamut of emotions she’d experienced that evening. And Alexander’s mercurial changes of behavior had exhausted her. “If you don’t mind,” she said, standing up, “I’m going to go to bed now. I’m very tired.”
“Of course. It’s been one hell of a night. Of which, I might add, you’re the heroine.”
“Thank you.” Grania stood up. “Good night, Alexander.”
He watched her put her brandy glass into the sink, wash it out and then walk across the kitchen toward the door. “Grania?”
“Yes?”
“Please forgive me. Under any other circumstances . . .”
She turned to him then and nodded. “I understand,” she lied.
Aurora
Before you ask, I’m not proud of myself. My father was right, of course—I was manipulative. But I was
also desperate. And besides, I’d already been told Grania would be coming to look after me for a long, long time, so I wasn’t happy it seemed to be going wrong and she had left me.
And it took a lot of thinking about to decide where to go and hide. Somewhere I knew, if she loved me, she’d find me, but not too obvious, like in a barn with the puppy, or up on the cliffs.
Even though I’m not scared of ghosts, knowing and understanding them the way I do, I didn’t like it much up there in the graveyard alone. I felt like the odd one out, being alive when they were all dead. Besides, I was only eight, and human . . .
Poor old Grania. There really wasn’t a lot she could do about it, being the kindhearted soul she is. And, of course, she loved me. Which, as I said earlier, often saves the day.
And I think she could have loved Daddy too, if things had been different . . .
I must stop wishing I could rewrite this story. I’m sure that the Master Storyteller, who weaves the subtle threads of fate in and out of our lives, is far better at it than I can ever be. Even though it’s sometimes hard to understand why one must trust that He is. That He knows the reasons for the things that happen to us, and will provide us all with a Happy Ending. Even though it may well be beyond the gossamer curtain we call death and means we can’t see it while we live.
As you may have noticed, I’m not much of an Evolutionary Theory fan, although I have read Darwin’s Origin of Species.
Actually, I lie. I read two chapters and gave up in favor of War and Peace, which made for far lighter reading.
I am a Creationist.
But perhaps, when one is nearing the end of one’s life, I suspect one needs to be.
Apologies for the self-indulgence, Reader. I’ve had a bad few days. And War and Peace isn’t exactly a fairy tale either.
Some Austen for me next, to cheer me up. I like her endings, more than I currently like mine.
So, we move on with the story . . .
28
Grania didn’t understand. As she drove down the hill toward her parents’ farmhouse, Aurora and all her most precious possessions stowed in the back of the Range Rover, she had no conception of what was going on in Alexander’s head.
“We’re here!” called Aurora as she exploded from the car and ran across to open the kitchen door. She launched herself into Kathleen’s arms. “Thank you so much for having me to stay, and can Lily sleep on my bed? I promise I’ll give her straight back to her mummy in the morning when she needs more milk.”
“Now then, we don’t take pups away from their mammys until they’re ready. Neither do we allow dogs upstairs in this house. Except on very special occasions, like maybe your first night here.” Kathleen touched Aurora’s cheek, and over Aurora’s beautiful Titian curls exchanged a look of resignation with her daughter.
Before teatime, Shane took Aurora off to the top field, where the sheep were beginning to lamb.
“ ’Tis amazing,” said Kathleen. “I told you that having a Lisle child in the Ryan family’s care was predestined.”
“Oh, Mam, enough of your tea leaves! And talk of the past,” added Grania. “It’s obvious you adore her.”
“Yes.” Kathleen was big enough to admit it. “Somehow that child has wound her way into my affection, despite my best intentions. Your daddy, now he’s a lost cause. I think he’s reliving the past when you were a small one. He’s painted that spare bedroom of ours pink, and even went into Clon to find some dolls for her. You’ve never seen the like of their ugly faces, Grania,” Kathleen chuckled. “But he’s doing his bit. And your brother, he’s smitten too,” she added.
“You know it’s only temporary, Mam, until Alexander comes back home.”
“There’s nothing in the Ryan household that’s temporary about Lisle children inhabiting it, you mark my words.” Kathleen wagged a finger at her daughter. “But I will admit, young Aurora has brought new life to all of us.” Kathleen put the kettle on the range to boil. “And I’d probably fight for her tooth and nail if I felt it was in her best interests. So now, I’ve admitted I’m just as bad as the rest of the women in the family when it comes to a Lisle child. But who can knock it, when she makes me smile?” She turned to face her daughter and crossed her arms. “The bigger question is, Grania, what you do now. With Aurora here, and safe and happy, at least you’re free to make your own decisions.”
“Yes, Mam. And I’m grateful for that. I’d like to say I’ve made some, but I’d be lying. Perhaps a few days’ space after all the drama will help.”
“Yes,” sighed Kathleen. “And that Alexander, even I can see he’s the size of a good-looking fella. The eyes on him . . .”
“Mam! Behave yourself.” Grania smiled.
“I always have, and that’s to my loss,” she grinned. “A woman can dream, can’t she? Now then, we’ll be having a grand dinner tonight. I thought I’d lay on something special for our little princess.”
• • •
The evening, with Aurora added to the table, took on a life of its own. After supper, John, horrified that Aurora seemed to know none of the old songs of her birthland, took out his banjo and played for all of them. Shane, breaking the habit of a lifetime, did not go to the pub. The five of them danced Irish jigs until Aurora yawned and Grania saw the exhaustion in her eyes.
“Time to go up to bed now, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” she said, almost gratefully.
Grania led Aurora up the narrow staircase and into the newly decorated spare room, put her into her nightdress and tucked her up in bed.
“I love your family, Grania. I hope I don’t ever have to leave.” Aurora yawned, her eyes half-closed in contentment.
Before Grania had left the room, Aurora was asleep.
• • •
Matt arrived home and put his hold-all of clothes in the utility room to launder later. He went into the kitchen to fix himself something to eat. He hadn’t been back here since the morning after the night he’d gotten hammered with Charley and the guys two weeks ago. He wandered into the sitting room, relieved that the loft was currently empty, and threw himself on to the sofa. Of course, Charley might well have moved out anyway. Surely, by now, her own apartment must have been redesigned to within an inch of its existence?
Matt blushed at the thought of that last morning he’d spent here, horrified when he’d seen Charley and realized she was naked next to him. He’d showered and packed his bag with all he’d need for the next couple of weeks, then crept out of his home like an unwanted lover. And the worst part was he’d had no recollection of what he may or may not have done the night before.
Charley hadn’t contacted him since anyway, none of the coy or maybe buddy-buddy conversations that one would expect after they’d spent the night together. He hadn’t contacted her either; what the hell could he say? He needed her to give him a clue first, so he could react appropriately.
Matt heard the key turn in the lock. Charley walked through the door and looked at Matt in surprise.
“Hi, wasn’t expecting you home.”
“Really?” Matt commented nervously. “Strangely, I do live here.”
“Yeah, sure you do,” she said as she made her way through to the kitchen and got herself a glass of water. She passed back through the sitting room, heading in the direction of her bedroom.
“You OK?” Matt called. She was being uncharacteristically silent.
“Yeah, I’m OK. Just real tired.”
That was the last he saw of her that evening or, in fact, any evening in the following week. When they were at home together, Charley would offer monosyllabic answers to his questions, then disappear into her room and not emerge until the following morning. Matt knew she was avoiding him, and understood why, but it was beyond him to know how to fix the problem.
Finally, Matt decided the only thing to do was to tackle Charley head-on. That evening, she came home and walked to the fridge to pour herself a glass of milk.
“Charley, honey, I really thi
nk we should talk.”
Charley paused in her journey across the sitting room toward her bedroom. “What about?”
“I think you know ‘what about.’ ”
Charley studied him for a while. “What’s there to say? It happened, it was a mistake, it’s obvious you regret it . . .”
“Whoa!” Matt instinctively put his arms out in front of him. “Stop right there. I suggest we go catch a bite to eat and talk this through.”
“OK.” Charley shrugged. “If that’s what you want. I’ll go take a shower.”
An hour later, they were sitting across a table in an Italian restaurant a couple of blocks away. Matt was drinking beer, but Charley had refused alcohol and was on water.
“You feeling OK? Physically, I mean. Not like you to refuse a glass of wine, Charley.” Matt smiled, trying to break the tension.
“I’m not feeling that great just now.”
“You should go to the doctor and get yourself checked out,” Matt encouraged.
“Yup.” Charley’s eyes were downcast; she was fiddling with her napkin, refusing to make eye contact.
“Hey, Charley, it’s Matt you’re talking to. I hate it that I’ve obviously done something to upset you.”
Charley remained silent. Matt manfully continued.
“The problem is, honey, I was out of it that night. This guy must be getting old, he can’t handle the drink the way he used to.”
The weak joke did not elicit a response.
“Look,” he tried again, “I’ll be honest and tell you that my mind is fuzzy on what actually happened that night, after we got back from the restaurant. I mean, did we . . . ? Did I . . . ?”
Matt came to a grinding halt. There was no more he could say until Charley answered him. She raised her eyes to him slowly. He wasn’t sure if they were full of sadness or anger.
“You don’t . . . remember?”
“No.” Matt blushed. “I don’t. I’m real sorry, but it’s better that I’m truthful.”
“Jeez,” Charley sighed, “Well, that just about caps the whole thing.”
“What can I say? I’m embarrassed and horrified. I suppose . . . it’s not as if we haven’t . . . I mean . . . been there before.”
The Girl on the Cliff Page 26