Cheska was moving her arm weakly up to her face. She tapped the oxygen mask and shook her head.
‘Darling, I don’t think I can remove it. The doctors said—’
Cheska struggled to pull it off.
‘Let me do it.’ Greta leant over her and pulled it away from Cheska’s mouth. ‘What is it you wanted to say?’
‘Jonny, my brother. He loved me?’ she rasped, panting with the effort.
‘Yes, he absolutely adored you.’
‘He’s waiting for me. He’ll be there.’ Cheska’s breathing became even more laboured and Greta put the oxygen mask back into place.
‘Yes, he is, but please remember that I love you and need you too—’
The doctor came in then, and checked on Cheska. She seemed to have drifted back to sleep.
‘Can I have a word, Mrs Hammond?’
‘It’s Mrs Marchmont, actually, but of course.’
The doctor indicated she should leave the room.
‘Goodbye, my darling little girl,’ she said. She stood up, kissed Cheska on the forehead and left the room.
‘Goodbye, Mummy,’ came a whisper from behind the mask. ‘I love you.’
56
It was Mary who answered the telephone when it rang at lunchtime on New Year’s Eve.
‘Hello?’
‘Mary, it’s Greta. Cheska died at three o’clock this morning.’
‘Oh, I’m so, so sorry.’
There was silence for quite a while.
‘Is David there?’ Greta said eventually.
‘I’m afraid he and Tor left earlier this morning for his apartment in Italy. I’m sure you can contact him there. Shall I give you his number?’
‘No. Let him have his holiday. Is Ava around?’
‘She’s resting. Simon’s downstairs somewhere, though.’
‘Could I speak to him, please?’
Mary went to find Simon. He listened to what Greta had to say and agreed that he would tell Ava gently when she woke up.
‘I’m sorry, Greta. Really.’ He put the phone down and sighed.
‘End of an era, isn’t it?’ said Mary.
‘Yes. But there’s a new one coming very soon, and we must all try not to forget that.’
Mary watched him as he walked off, his hands deep in his pockets, and knew he was right.
David and Tor were watching the magnificent New Year fireworks light up the harbour in Santa Margherita.
‘Happy New Year, darling,’ David said, hugging Tor to him.
‘Happy New Year, David.’ After a few seconds she pulled away from him and went to sit down on the tiny balcony.
‘What is it, Tor?’ David frowned. ‘Something’s wrong. You’ve been a bit distant ever since we arrived here. Tell me,’ he said, sitting down opposite her.
‘Really, David, I—’ Tor rubbed her forehead. ‘This isn’t the moment.’
‘If it’s bad news, it’s never the moment. So please, just tell me.’
‘Well . . . it’s about us.’ She took a gulp of champagne. ‘We’ve been together almost six years now.’
‘Yes, we have. And I’m finally going to make an honest woman of you.’
‘And I was truly honoured and happy that you asked me . . . at first. I love you, David, very much. I hope you know that.’
‘Of course I do.’ David was puzzled. Tor would never usually instigate a conversation like this. ‘But what do you mean, “initially”?’
‘Over Christmas, I realised something, even after you asked me to marry you.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Well, the thing is, I know you tell me you love me, and in one way I believe you, but the truth is, David, I think you’re in love with somebody else. And that you always have been.’
‘With whom?’
‘Darling, don’t patronise either yourself or me. Greta, of course.’
‘Greta?’
‘Yes, Greta. And, more to the point, I know she loves you, too.’
‘Oh for goodness’ sake! How much champagne have you had, Tor?’ David chuckled. ‘Greta has never loved me. I told you I asked her to marry me once and she refused.’
‘Yes, but that was then and this is now. I’m telling you, David, she loves you. Trust me. I saw it over Christmas. I saw the two of you together.’
‘Really, Tor, I think you’re exaggerating.’
‘I’m not. Your whole family can see it, not just me. And if two people love each other, then the obvious thing is for them to be together. David’ – Tor reached out her hand and squeezed his – ‘I really think you should admit it to yourself: there’s only ever been one woman for you. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, but I think we should both face up to it. We’ve had a fantastic six years together, not a moment of which I regret, but I think it’s run its course. And Christmas showed me that very clearly. Frankly, I don’t want to be second best and I’m afraid that’s how I feel.’
‘Tor, please, you’re wrong! I—’
‘David, we’d already decided that, even after we marry, nothing will change, at least for a while. I have my life in Oxford and you have yours in London and at Marchmont. We’ve kept each other company and it’s been wonderful. And I’m terribly fond of you, but—’
‘Are you saying you’re leaving me?’
‘Oh David, please don’t be so dramatic. No, I’m not leaving you. I hope we’ll always be friends. And if either you or Greta ever plucks up the courage to admit your feelings to each other, I really hope I’m invited to the wedding.’ Tor slid the engagement ring from her finger and handed it to him. ‘Right, I’ve said it. Now, let’s go into town and celebrate the New Year.’
Greta arrived back at Heathrow on a miserable grey day in early January. She had decided not to hold a formal funeral for Cheska. It would have meant asking the family to come to Geneva, and there was also the possibility that the media would get wind of it. Instead, in her suitcase, she carried Cheska’s ashes, which she would take to Marchmont and bury beside Jonny’s grave when she next returned.
Her apartment was freezing cold, as it had been empty for almost two weeks. After switching on the water and the central heating, Greta made a cup of tea and went to sit on the sofa, warming her hands on the mug. She wasn’t sure when David was back from Italy, and had told everyone at Marchmont to wait until he had returned before telling him the news.
The clock ticked. And she heard the dull thud of pipes filling with water.
Apart from that, silence.
Greta sipped the tea and it burnt her tongue. She thought how much had changed since she had left for Marchmont two weeks ago. Before, she had been empty, devoid of feeling. And now she felt so full of emotion she wondered how she would contain it.
She’d been desperate to speak to David after Cheska’s death, knowing he’d be the only one who would understand how devastated she felt. She’d lost both her babies now, and even if it was perhaps the best thing for her poor, tormented daughter to be released from her tortured mind, the loss of the beautiful child she’d once adored so soon after her memories had returned ate into her.
But Greta was determined that the one thing she mustn’t do any longer was rely on David. It was only since she’d regained her past that she could truly see what he had done for her and been to her over the years. Now, even if she had never needed him more, she had to let him go.
The following week passed achingly slowly. To while away a bit of time over the bleak post-Christmas period, Greta wrote a letter to David, thanking him profusely for all his help over the years and explaining that Cheska had died peacefully. She also wrote to Ava, wanting to explain to her, too, that her mother hadn’t suffered at the end and that she’d sent her love to her.
‘I have never been of much use to you but, as I said to you before I left Marchmont, if you need me when the baby is born, I’d be very happy to help in any way I can,’ she wrote.
David rang immediately after reading his letter, asking her how sh
e was and telling her she had been right: Ava was having twins. It took Greta every bit of strength she had to tell him that she was doing well, and yes, she’d taken his advice and was forging a new and busy life for herself. He asked her out to lunch at the Savoy in a couple of days’ time, but she declined, saying she’d already made plans for a holiday but would be back by the second week in February and could see him then. Ava wrote back, complaining that she’d been confined to the house by the doctor and that she hoped Greta would visit after the birth.
Greta scrubbed the apartment until it shone, baked cakes that no one was going to eat and signed up for yoga and art classes at the local adult education centre. She set to knitting matinee jackets, bootees and hats, just as she had done all those years ago for her own babies and to pass the time at Marchmont. She also crocheted two shawls, and posted everything off in a big box to Ava.
She could do this, she kept telling herself. It would just take time.
January finally became February, and the news came from Simon that she was a great-grandmother. Ava had given birth to a boy, Jonathan, and a girl, Laura.
‘Can you please tell her how delighted I am, Simon? And, of course, anything I can do, I’d be happy to help. I know how exhausting it can be with two,’ she said. Then she replaced the receiver and wept with joy – and equally with grief that Cheska couldn’t be there to see her grandchildren.
A few days later, as she settled down in front of a soap opera, her supper on her knee, the telephone rang.
‘Granny?’
‘Yes. Hello, Ava, how are you? Congratulations, darling!’
‘Thanks. I think you know how I am, because you’ve been through it. Sleepless, exhilarated and feeling like a milk machine.’ Ava sighed. ‘But happier than I’ve ever been in my life.’
‘I’m so glad, darling. As you know, I loved having my little babies.’
‘So Mary said. She told me you were a wonderful mother.’
‘Did she?’
‘Yes. By the way, thank you for the gorgeous shawls, and everything else. You’ve no idea how useful they all are. It’s freezing here, and both Laura and Jonathan seem to vomit over everything. You’re so clever. I wish I could knit like that.’
Greta smiled. ‘I can teach you one day if you want, just like LJ once taught me. It’s easy.’
‘Well, that’s the thing . . . To be honest, I’m really struggling at the moment and it will be even harder when I go back to work, which is what I want to do in a couple of months or so. I was just wondering, Granny, how do you feel about coming here for a bit and helping me? I know David says you just got back from a holiday and are quite busy in London, so please say if you can’t. It’s just that I really don’t want to employ a stranger so I thought I’d ask you. I really am desperate just now,’ she added, with a catch in her voice that smacked of the bone-aching exhaustion Greta remembered all too well.
‘Of course. I’d be delighted to come and help you, darling. When would you like me?’
‘As soon as possible. Simon’s up to his eyes in the barn producing an album and, even though Mary’s doing her best, she has so much to do in the house and I don’t want to put upon her.’
‘Why don’t I come up at the weekend? That’ll give me a chance to sort out a few bits and pieces here.’
‘That would be wonderful. Thank you so much, Granny. Let me know what time your train arrives in Abergavenny and I’ll send someone to come and get you.’
Greta put down the telephone and gave a small whoop of joy.
The following day, Greta went to the hairdresser in preparation for having lunch with David. She’d spend the rest of the afternoon and evening packing. At least now, she felt she could cope with seeing David and hearing about Tor. For a change, she had plans too.
They met at their usual table in the Grill Room and Greta immediately saw that David had lost weight.
‘Have you been on a diet?’ she asked.
‘No, I think it’s genetic. As old age approaches, some people put it on and some lose it. You’re looking extremely well, Greta, I must say. Champagne?’
‘Yes, why not? Isn’t it wonderful news about Ava?’
‘Absolutely. Have you seen the twins yet?’
‘No, but I’m going up to Marchmont tomorrow to help out. Ava sounds exhausted.’
‘I’m amazed you can find the time in your busy new life.’ David smiled.
‘Well, she is my granddaughter, and she needs me. How have you been?’
‘Oh, all right. I’ve been working on my book and contemplating my retirement.’
‘How’s Tor?’ she asked lightly.
‘Fine, as far as I know. We haven’t seen each other for a while.’
‘Is she busy in Oxford?’
‘I presume so. Actually, Greta, we’re no longer together.’
‘Really? Why?’
‘It was Tor’s decision. She said the relationship wasn’t going anywhere and, to be honest, she was probably right.’
‘I’m astonished,’ Greta said, as the champagne arrived. ‘I was expecting to hear all about your wedding plans.’
‘Well, better that it happened now, before we tied the knot. Anyway’ – he clinked his glass on hers – ‘here’s to the new arrivals . . . And to you, Greta. I’m really proud of you.’
‘Are you? That’s sweet of you, David.’
‘Yes. You’ve been through so much, especially since Christmas, and by the looks of things you’ve handled it terrifically.’
‘I wouldn’t say that. There have been times when I’ve seriously wondered what it’s all about, but one has to do one’s best and just get on with it, doesn’t one?’
‘Yes, that’s true. And I’ll admit that I’ve been very low since Cheska’s death, especially coming so soon after my mother’s.’
‘It’s a bit like running a marathon, isn’t it? It’s only when you reach the finish line that you have time to collapse. Perhaps that’s what’s happening to you, David.’
‘Maybe.’ He shrugged, unconvinced. ‘And I doubt writing my autobiography has helped. It means I spend the whole of my time having to think about the past.’
‘Am I in it?’ Greta teased.
‘As I promised you, I’ve left you, Cheska and Ava out of it. Which mean it’s pretty thin. You’ve all been such a big part of my life. Anyway, shall we order?’
Greta ate her lunch hungrily whilst David only picked at his.
‘Are you sure you’re all right, David?’ Greta frowned. ‘You really don’t seem yourself. It’s probably because of Tor. You must miss her terribly.’
‘No, it’s not that.’ David concentrated on folding his napkin into a small triangle.
‘Then what is it?’
‘It’s what she said when she told me she thought it best to end our relationship.’
‘And what was that?’
‘I—’
‘Spit it out, David. Nothing you could say will shock me. I’ve known you for far too long.’
‘The thing is’ – he paused for a second – ‘she said that it was pointless us continuing because I’d always been in love with someone else.’
‘Really? And who is that?’
David rolled his eyes. ‘You, of course.’
‘Me? Why on earth would she think that?’
‘Because it’s true. And she was right.’
‘Well, I was wrong when I said that nothing you could say to me would shock me,’ Greta said quietly after a long pause.
‘Well, you did ask. Anyway, there we are. I told her that you’ve never felt the same about me—’
‘David! Of course I feel the same about you! I’ve felt it for years and years. In fact, on that dreadful day when Cheska almost certainly pushed me off the pavement after I’d told her that Bobby Cross was married, I was going to tell you! And then, of course, I couldn’t remember anything at all, so I simply fell in love with you all over again.’
‘Are you serious?’ David looked a
t her with such a terrified expression that Greta wanted to chuckle.
‘No, I’m joking! Of course I’m serious, you silly old thing. I’ve stayed away from you for the past two months because I didn’t want to be a burden to you any longer.’
‘I thought it was because, now you’d remembered everything, you didn’t need me any more.’
‘As we both know all too well, I’ve always needed you. I love you, David.’
He saw the happiness on her face and, as what she’d said began to sink in, he grinned back.
‘Well then,’ he said.
‘Well then.’
‘Here we are.’
‘Yes, here we are.’
‘Better late than never, I suppose. It’s only taken forty years for this moment to happen. Worth waiting for, though.’
‘Yes. And, David, it’s me who’s been so stupid. I didn’t see what was right under my nose.’
‘People often don’t.’
‘Oh Taffy,’ she said, suddenly reverting to his pet name, ‘if only I had, how different things would have been.’
‘Well, we do have the rest of our lives ahead of us, don’t we?’
‘Yes.’ For the first time in years, Greta felt she did.
‘And how about we begin it by me driving you up to Marchmont tomorrow? We can greet the new arrivals together.’
David put out his hand to her across the table and she took it.
‘Yes.’ She smiled. ‘That would be a perfect beginning.’
Acknowledgements
Claudia Negele at Goldmann Verlag, Jez Trevathan and Catherine Richards at Pan Macmillan, Knut Gørvell, Jorid Mathiassen and Pip Hallén at Cappelen Damm, Donatella Minuto and Annalisa Lottini at Giunti Editore, and Nana Vaz de Castro and Fernando Mercante at Editora Arqueiro.
‘Team Lulu’ – my band of ‘sisters’ – Olivia Riley, Susan Moss, Ella Micheler, Jacquelyn Heslop, my lovely ‘blood’ sister Georgia Edmonds, to whom this book is dedicated, and my mother, Janet.
Special thanks to Samantha and Robert Gurney for allowing me to use their fabulous house and their two beautiful daughters, Amelia and Tabitha, in my film.
Stephen, my husband and agent, and my ‘fantastic four’: Harry, Isabella, Leonora and Kit.
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