A brief pause. ‘He might?’
‘Yeah. He’s revisiting all the submerged forests he photographed as a commission. I think it’s a commemoration of Mum.’
‘You might be disappointed with the lake. It isn’t so stunning in real life.’
‘You’ve been?’ I ask in surprise.
‘Many years ago. I went with your mother.’
I shake my head, unable to believe she hasn’t mentioned this before either. ‘When did you go?’
‘Oh, I can’t remember, it was a long time ago, I barely remember it.’
‘But you remember it enough to say the lake wasn’t so stunning in real life. You don’t want me to go, do you? Why don’t you want me to talk to Niall?’
‘You’re reading into things. I really must go, Willow. Once you know what you’re doing next, let me know, won’t you? Take care.’
Then the phone clicks off. I stare at it in disbelief. What’s she trying to hide from me?
The next morning I wake to the sound of scratching outside. I reach over and pull the curtain aside to see Ajay’s sister Satya sprinkling white powder on the ground outside her front door. She catches me watching her and beckons me to join her. I’m not in the mood really. I’ve hardly slept, everything I learnt the day before scraping through my mind like a razor.
I sigh and pull on my grey hoodie over my t-shirt and shorts before walking outside, raking my hands through my hair to stop it sticking up.
‘Did you sleep well?’ Satya asks me. She’s wearing a beautiful blue sari.
‘Perfect,’ I lie. ‘What’s that?’ I ask, gesturing towards the pattern she’s making with the powder.
‘A mandala. We draw this each morning to bring prosperity.’
‘I thought they were used to help with grief?’
‘They can be drawn for a variety of reasons.’
‘Does it work?’
‘You’ve seen our wonderful children. And the new television,’ she adds, laughing. ‘Want to try?’
‘Yeah, sure.’
She takes hold of my hand and pours what I now realise are fine grains of white rice into my hand. ‘Do a circle here,’ she says, pointing to the middle of a hexagon she’s created. I lean down, carefully pouring the rice so it creates a circle, thinking of my mum doing the same many years ago, thinking of her sister, taken from her too early. ‘Good,’ Satya says. ‘Add a little more to thicken it up.’
I do what she asks and we work in silence for a couple of minutes. Then Satya looks up at me. ‘Ajay told me you’re visiting submerged forests around the world as a memorial to your mother.’
‘Yeah.’
She nods to herself. ‘There is a Hindi saying I like.’ She murmurs something in Hindi. ‘It means “There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting.”’ She looks at me, her dark eyes sinking into mine. ‘You have started. But will you go all the way?’
I think of the fact that this man who loved my mother is in Austria…and how much my aunt was trying to convince me not to go. I always did like doing what she told me not to.
‘Maybe I will go all the way,’ I say.
Chapter Ten
Charity
Styria, Austria
June 1987
Charity watched her sister take a sip of wine. It was a relief to see her looking better. When Charity had returned from Kerala nearly two months ago, she’d been shocked to learn Hope had been admitted to hospital. She’d gone straight to her, finding Hope pale and thin on her hospital bed. A quiet conversation with her doctor revealed her blood sugar levels were abnormally low, causing her to faint regularly. The reason, as Charity suspected, was that Hope was running herself ragged at the café.
‘I’m coming back to help whether you like it or not,’ Charity had said when she saw Hope.
Hope had simply shrugged. ‘Fine. But you’re not baking any cakes,’ she added with a trace of a smile. ‘We don’t want to give the customers food poisoning.’
So the two sisters returned to the cottage together and Charity took on much of the work at the café until Hope seemed better.
Over those few weeks, thoughts of Dan and Niall entered Charity’s mind every now and again. She saw Dan pass in his car once or twice. But there was no word from Niall. Despite herself, she’d been half hoping to receive the photo he’d promised of the submerged forest in India. But nothing had arrived.
When Hope’s health started to improve after a month, they decided to clear out the cottage and, in the process, found brochures Faith must have stowed away to plan their world tour of submerged forests. One stood out to Charity: Green Lake, the tranquil lake Faith had told them about in Austria.
‘Let’s go,’ Hope said. ‘Just you and me.’
So a couple of weeks later, there they were in a traditional Austrian hotel near the lake it was named after, enjoying dinner in its simple restaurant with its varnished birch tables and chairs and clean cream walls.
‘More wine?’ Hope asked now, picking the bottle up.
‘Why not?’
Hope poured some more wine into both their glasses and they clinked them together.
‘To Faith,’ Hope said.
‘To Faith,’ Charity replied, smiling sadly.
They were quiet for a few moments, looking out towards the stretch of white-tipped mountains in the distance, the expanse of green that spread out from the hotel.
‘So now we’ve had a few glasses of wine,’ Hope said, ‘do you want to tell me why the Norths and Niall were in India with you?’
Charity sighed. Hope hadn’t brought Niall up at all during the past few weeks. Charity had hoped she didn’t know Niall had been in India too.
‘Dan North’s PA told me they flew Niall out there to take photos,’ Hope explained. ‘Bit of a coincidence that they arrived the same week as you, isn’t it?’
‘Lana North orchestrated it.’
Hope raised an eyebrow. ‘Like she orchestrated the dinner?’ Charity nodded as Hope frowned. ‘Strange.’
‘It is. She seems a little obsessed with Niall and me.’ Charity looked into her sisters eyes. ‘I hope you now believe I had no intention of having dinner with Niall that evening at the Norths…and I really did bump into him while diving that day.’
Hope took in a deep breath. ‘I suppose I do. Lana North is as messed up as I suspected then?’
‘I can’t figure out if she’s damaged in some way, or just a bored and manipulative woman.’
The waiter came over with the dessert menus.
‘But why the obsession with you and Niall?’ Hope asked, her eyes scanning the menu.
‘I don’t know, maybe she likes the tragedy of it all.’
‘And you?’
Charity frowned. ‘Me what?’
‘Do you like the tragedy of it all?’
Charity shook her head. ‘No. We went out of our way to avoid each other the two days I was in India and, when we did bump into each other, we ended up arguing.’
Hope quirked an eyebrow, eyes intrigued. ‘About what?’
‘Oh, I can’t even remember,’ Charity lied.
Hope held Charity’s gaze for a few moments, then dropped it, taking a sip of wine. ‘What does Dan North say about his wife’s little games?’
Dan’s handsome face flashed into Charity’s mind, the memory of his breath on her lips, the look in his green eyes, like everything could start and end on that boat with him.
‘You’re blushing,’ Hope said. She narrowed her grey eyes. ‘Did something happen with Dan North? Please tell me it did.’ Charity felt her cheeks turn even hotter and Hope’s eyes widened. ‘Was the argument between you and Niall about him?’
‘No, not at all!’
‘But something did happen between you and Dan North?’
Charity took a large gulp of wine. Maybe she should tell her sister? She’d held it all pent up inside the past few weeks. Her sister might be outspoken and stubborn bu
t she was discreet. Would it help to tell her, to release the tension?
‘We nearly kissed,’ Charity blurted out.
A smile spread over Hope’s face.
‘We were very drunk,’ Charity quickly added.
Hope leant forward, eyes giddy with excitement. ‘This is the best news I’ve heard in a long time.’
Charity laughed. It was great to see her sister acting like her old self again. ‘Why?’
‘Let me see. He’s charming, kind and friendly,’ Hope said, ticking the attributes off on her thin fingers. ‘Plus he’s gorgeous and has money, lots of it. Oh, and the best one? He’s not Niall.’
‘You forgot one. He’s married.’
‘To a manipulative bitch!’
‘Oh, Hope, really. You’d make a terrible counsellor.’
Hope tilted her head as she scrutinised Charity’s face. ‘How do you feel about Dan?’
‘I don’t know. He confuses me.’
‘Well, I’ll tell you how I feel. I like him. And I feel sorry for him, putting up with that woman. It’s your duty to save him from her.’
Charity laughed. ‘I’m not sure stealing men from their wives is part of a counsellor’s job.’
After the waiter came over to take their dessert order, Hope settled back into her chair, playing with the stem of her wine glass. ‘I always thought you’d run away to Paris or something and become a dancer or an actress. You were always so dramatic. I was so shocked when you signed up for that psychology course.’
Charity shrugged. ‘I guess I’ve always been fascinated with the human mind, with helping people.’
‘Have you?’ Hope asked. ‘I don’t remember that. I think you felt a bit lost after Faith died.’
‘I think we both did. You missed that teen literary retreat, remember?’
‘I couldn’t leave you all at such an awful time.’
‘Do you ever think what the retreat could have led to?’
Hope was quiet for a few moments. ‘I would have eventually missed out on some opportunity or another to look after Mum and Dad, regardless of Faith.’
‘I offered to come back to care for them!’
‘You had a job! Anyway, it was always going to be me left at home looking after them, wasn’t it? The uglier, least talented sister.’
Charity reached across the table, grabbing her sister’s hand. ‘Hope! How can you say that?’
‘Because it’s true. And I don’t mind, really,’ Hope said, smiling. ‘I’ve never resented you both for it. I adored Faith, and love you completely, you know that. But it’s always been clear I’d be the one left on the shelf.’
‘What rubbish,’ Charity said, shaking her head. ‘You’re beautiful.’
‘No, I’m not,’ Hope said quietly.
Charity looked at her sister, her heart aching. ‘I wish you weren’t so horrid to yourself.’
‘I’m not horrid, I’m just honest.’
Charity examined Hope’s face. Maybe if Faith had lived Hope wouldn’t be so insecure. Faith always had a way of making her sisters feel special. Charity hadn’t done enough for Hope. ‘I had some time to think while I was in India. Maybe we should move somewhere completely different together?’
Hope contemplated her sister’s face. ‘You mean move away from Busby-on-Sea?’
‘Why not?’ Charity leant forward, animated. ‘We could sell the café, the house, and use the money to start anew somewhere else. You could do a poetry course, I could – oh, I don’t know, join the circus or something.’ Hope shot her a look. ‘Only kidding. But you know what I mean. Us two, together, starting afresh, not letting the past hold us back.’
‘I’m not sure I could do that to Mum and Dad. They wanted one of us to continue with the café, remember?’
‘Mum also hoped you’d become a published poet one day! We could go to Brighton. Or Wales, aren’t there lots of poetry events in Wales? Or even head north, it’s cheaper up there.’
Hope bit her lip, looking out of the window. ‘I don’t know.’
‘But you’ll think about it?’
Hope looked back at Charity, a small smile on her face. ‘Maybe.’
The waiter arrived with their desserts – two Germknödels, white doughy domes sprinkled with powdered sugar, oozing with delicious thick plum preserve. Charity sunk her spoon into hers and lifted the goo out, making Hope do the same. Then they clinked their filled spoons together.
‘To a sea change,’ she said.
Hope’s smile deepened. ‘To a sea change.’
The vast Green Lake spread out in front of the sisters the next morning. Tall pine trees lined its borders, the snow-topped Alps standing majestically over it in the distance. Divers stood on its grey gravelled sides preparing their equipment.
‘It’s as beautiful as the photos Faith showed us,’ Charity said.
‘Even more so,’ Hope said. She picked up the snorkel she’d hired. ‘Now, remind me how this diving malarkey works?’
Twenty minutes later, they were both below the surface, gliding over a blanket of grass complete with yellow buttercups that rose still and graceful from the ground. Hope kicked her legs, reaching downwards so her fingers grazed the soft petals. Soon, a submerged bench came into view. Charity and Hope exchanged a look through their masks. Faith had told them about this very bench when she’d told them about submerged forests, she’d even dug out a photo of it. The two sisters swam towards it and both sat on it, eyes smiling at each other under their masks. Charity looked at the empty space next to her and imagined Faith there. Hope looked at her, her eyes swimming with tears, no doubt thinking the same.
A shoal of small pale fish passed over them. Charity pointed up and Hope followed her gaze. They watched the fish pass and Charity reached out for Hope’s hand, squeezing it. Everything felt so peaceful right then, like the layers of water around them were keeping all the complicated parts of her life out.
They stayed there a while, just the two of them, quiet, contemplative. Then three divers appeared. So they swam away from the bench, following the long gravelled path that wound its way through the grass.
After a while, Charity noticed a tree standing eerily in the middle of the sunken grass meadow, its branches floating upwards towards the surface as though it were trying to return to dry land. She pointed towards it and Hope nodded. Faith had also shown them a photo of this solitary tree. They swam towards it and both carefully touched its leaves with their fingers.
Then something caught Charity’s eye. A looped C entangled with an N. One of Niall’s etchings.
She reeled back, water rippling around her. He’d already visited the lake?
Before her sister had a chance to see it, she beckoned Hope towards a large rock, distracting her by showing her some fish scooting in and out of its holes. She didn’t want to ruin their holiday with thoughts of Niall.
When they emerged from the lake, they sat on the banks, soaking in the warm sun as they shared a packet of crisps.
‘Well, that was quite something,’ Hope said, smiling.
‘It was, wasn’t it?’ Charity gazed out at the lake. So many questions were intruding into her mind. When had Niall come? Was he here now? Did he know she was here?
Hope smiled. ‘I forgot how crazy your hair gets after swimming. Faith always said you had enough hair to supply a whole country. She—’ Hope frowned. ‘Your hair was wet. Why was your hair wet?’
Charity laughed. ‘We’ve just been in the lake, dork!’
Hope’s face paled. ‘I mean that night, the night Faith died. Your hair was wet. I was too caught up in everything at the time to really take it in, but it was wet, wasn’t it?’
The smile disappeared from Charity’s face. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘It was raining that night. You were outside, weren’t you?’ Hope put her hand to her mouth. ‘My God, were you with Niall the night he killed Faith?’
Chapter Eleven
Willow
Styria, Austria
September 2016
I should be exhilarated as I stare out at the emerald lake before me. Instead, I feel like a fool.
I came at the wrong time of year.
This is what happens when you make impulsive decisions to fly somewhere without doing your research. It may look pretty here with its white-capped mountains in the background, the lake glittering like a diamond in the midst of it all. But it’s too bloody shallow to dive!
At least there’s Niall Lane’s exhibition tomorrow at the Green Lake hotel I’ve booked into. It doesn’t have to be a wasted trip. I can ask him some questions, try to see if he can fill in the gaps of my mum’s past, of her dead sister’s past, gaps my aunt Hope refuses to fill.
As I stare out at the lake, I have this moment where I feel tiny and utterly alone in this vast landscape. No fellow divers around me. No Ajay shrugging on his stabiliser jacket. No Aunt Hope writing her poetry from a rock nearby.
I’ve always been content with my own company, I guess I had to be with Aunt Hope spending so much time writing and disappearing off to poetry events most evenings. Sure, I had some friends from swimming classes, but they were never deep friendships. Just ships passing in the night. I think they sensed something in me, that lone wolf Ajay talks about. I have my ‘tribe’, all my fellow divers. But they’re not always around and that’s cool with me.
But right now, being alone bothers me. Maybe it’s something about this vigil, about trying to find the missing jigsaw pieces in the puzzle of my life that is making me feel like one very solitary piece. It’s not even as though I have a party to go to, like on one of my diving holidays, diving and drinking before tumbling into someone’s bed, limbs entangling…just enough to stop the flashes of loneliness I might otherwise get in the dead of the night.
Maybe that’s what I need right now. I need to go back to the hotel and grab that Austrian man on reception, all flushed cheeks, blue eyes and cropped blond hair. But the thought makes me feel empty. Just another passing acquaintance. Nothing fixed, nothing substantial.
What if this carries on for the rest of my life? Will I end up like the sad old Mad Shoe Lady in Busby-on-Sea?
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