by Liz Nugent
He didn’t want to come in, but stood awkwardly on the doorstep. ‘I’m very sorry, I just wanted to … I was worried about her,’ he said by way of explanation. ‘She hasn’t returned my calls and I thought that maybe I’d offended her in some way.’ He seemed genuinely upset.
‘No, I can assure you it’s nothing to do with you. She just needs some time out.’
‘Has she … is she seeing a doctor?’
‘She is in excellent hands.’ This was true.
‘Laurence, I … I never intend to take your father’s place, you know that, don’t you? I would never come between a mother and her son.’
‘Of course not, I understand. When she’s up to it, we will all have dinner together.’
‘Really? I’d like that very much. I’m very fond of her.’
I could see that was true. I assured him that I would call him in a few weeks. He seemed relieved.
My mother got better. She treated her overdose as a minor aberration – ‘It was a very silly thing to do’ – but insisted that it would never happen again and that she had overreacted to my talk of moving out. ‘It’s just that I’ve never been on my own before …’ She still didn’t want me to go.
I had finally begun to resent my mother. Her emotional blackmail had me trapped. Helen had been good company, and though we’d agreed to keep in touch, I missed her around the place when she left. There was nothing romantic between us at all, but, unlikely as it seemed, she had turned out to be a good friend in a crisis.
Nevertheless, Karen had been constantly on my mind as I wondered what her reaction to the second Annie letter had been, and then she rang me one day in the office.
‘Did you write those letters pretending to be my sister?’
I stalled for time as I tried to anticipate the consequences of any answer I might give, but I was sick of the subterfuge, sick of the deception, exhausted from lying. What I wanted was the best for Karen. If she was now to discover that my father had murdered her sister, that Annie was buried in my back garden, that her search was over, would it bring her peace? Would it bring me peace?
‘Yes,’ I replied.
She exhaled, and then said the most unexpected thing. ‘I think I love you too.’
20
Lydia
Laurence told me he was leaving home. I could not let that happen. His place would always be here with me. He thought I was unhinged. I could see it in the way he talked to me sometimes, as if I were a child. I decided to use his opinion of my instability for our benefit. He had been pulling away from me for some time, and he was secretive and suspicious. Covering up the whole Annie Doyle business had taken its toll on him. I told him that he must put the matter out of his mind, but he was really preoccupied with it.
Damn Eleanor, she’d got the better of me with her last will and testament. She had told me that she was going to look after us, but she excluded me and looked after Laurence alone. She had always adored him and frequently criticized my parenting skills, but even when I heard the words from her lawyer – ‘for his independence’ – I still never thought that Laurence would leave me. The only struggle I had anticipated was with Rosie and Finn, who wanted their ‘fair share’ because they had been greedy enough to have eight children. I had planned to go clothes shopping in the boutiques where they still knew me by name. I was going to take Laurence out to introduce him to the rudiments of fine dining and a good wine list. The silk curtains in our drawing room needed replacing, as did the carpets in the hall, stairs and landing. A crack had appeared on the wall above the mantelpiece, and the enamel was wearing through in my bathroom. Daddy would never have stood for such imperfections. We finally had the means to restore everything, but Laurence intended to defy me.
The suicide attempt was a desperate measure, but I had to do something. I didn’t actually take any of the pills, but I had drunk plenty of water so that I would have something to throw up when he found me, which I knew he would. I knew Laurence would never send me to St John of God’s, and thankfully he kept his cool and called on Helen. I began to see Helen in a new light after that. It was clear that Helen adored Avalon. She didn’t need much of an excuse to turn up. She had been useful before, when Eleanor died. She could be vulgar and uncivilized, but she was entertaining and wonderfully indiscreet, and at least she had a name. Her mother, Angela d’Arcy, was a poet of repute. She did not write anything to my taste, and of course she was horribly bohemian. It was hardly surprising that Helen had grown up wild like a weed, but it was she who told me the full story of Laurence’s visit to Bridget’s family in Athlone. It was laughable that that silly girl had actually thought my Laurence would marry her, a girl of no breeding or background. I thought it useful to keep Helen around, as Laurence was obviously confiding in her more than me.
Unfortunately, the ‘overdose’ only deterred Laurence temporarily. He was determined to go ahead with his plans to occupy Eleanor’s cottage. He tried to prepare me for his departure by inviting Malcolm over more regularly, as if Malcolm could ever replace Andrew, or Laurence.
Malcolm and I had not spoken of the Amy Malone incident since it happened. I told him in no uncertain terms that if we were to continue our relationship, he must never mention Diana’s name again. Laurence did not tell him about the pills, but Malcolm suspected there had been some setback to my mental health and urged me to go and see somebody professionally. I insisted that I had had a bad case of the flu. He and Laurence got on well and I asked Malcolm to intercede and ask Laurence not to move out.
‘Lydia, he is twenty-three years old. Do you think he will stay here for ever?’
‘Well, why wouldn’t he? Everything he needs is here in Avalon.’
‘Except his freedom.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘A young man like that, he should be able to entertain his girlfriends without his mother looking over his shoulder.’
‘But he hasn’t got a girlfriend. Not that I know of.’
‘That’s exactly my point. He’s a good-looking young man. If he doesn’t, he will soon, and didn’t you say that you never met the last girl? Bridget, was it?’
‘It was Laurence’s decision not to bring her home. I certainly never banned her from the house. Helen comes and goes as much as she likes.’
‘I’m amazed that you put up with her. She can be so ill mannered. I’m astonished that Laurence ever dated her.’
‘Helen is actually good for Laurence. You see, you don’t know a thing about him.’
‘I know that he wants to grow up and leave home, and I think it would be a positive thing for you if he did. I live just ten minutes away. I can be here whenever you need me.’
I didn’t need Malcolm at all, but I was too polite to say so. I had another plan to keep Laurence at home. It meant an almighty financial sacrifice, but we wouldn’t lose everything.
I went out one evening to visit my brother-in-law. Finn’s welcome was not effusive.
‘Lydia, what do you want?’ The disrespect in his tone was quite unforgivable, but I buried my dislike and got down to business.
‘Finn, I’ve been thinking about things and I can see now that I was wrong to think we should keep the cottage. I would like to do what you suggested and put it up for sale and split the proceeds.’
He restrained himself from dancing a jig right there and then. He called Rosie and I was invited to stay for dinner. What a spectacle that was. Yes, I had always wanted more children, but my children would have been raised well. Five of the eight children were present, two of whom were teenagers who seemed to be competing to see who could be the most sullen. Laurence was never like that, not until he was forced to move schools, and that was Andrew’s fault. The smaller children climbed over and under the table and flicked peas at each other like savages. In addition to the peas, dinner consisted of fish fingers and potato waffles, a whole new experience for me. Rosie was unapologetic. After the plates and the children were cleared from the room, she said, �
�I’m so glad you’ve made this decision, Lydia. With eight children, it’s quite a struggle, you know? We could really do with the money. The school fees are killing us.’
‘Yes, well, when we had to make sacrifices, Laurence had to go to a state school.’
‘Oh yes, of course I know, but it was Andrew who gambled the money. Finn had nothing to do –’
‘Let’s just put all that behind us,’ interrupted Finn, who must have noted my brittle tone.
‘There’s just one tiny problem,’ I said. ‘Laurence has become quite attached to the idea of living in the cottage himself, and as you know, the legacy is in his name. I have tried to make him see that the best thing, the fairest thing, would be for him to live at home.’
Finn and Rosie exchanged a look.
‘What exactly are you saying, Lydia?’
‘Well, just that I do not want to fall out with my son, so I’m hoping that you two could apply pressure without involving me.’
‘Oh, for Christ’s sake!’ said Rosie.
‘Rosie,’ warned Finn.
‘It’s outrageous!’ Rosie ignored him. ‘You should have sold that mausoleum of yours years ago. There isn’t even a mortgage to be paid on it! There would be plenty of money available for you and Laurence to buy perfectly decent homes. You stressed Andrew so much with all of your whims and demands about the upkeep of Avalon, and now Laurence has had enough of it too. It isn’t right that a young man like that should have to support his idle mother in her mansion. He wants out, and you are using us to get him to stay.’
‘Rosie!’ Finn raised his voice.
I ignored her completely and addressed myself to him. ‘If you can persuade him, we will both get what we want.’
Rosie flounced out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Finn spoke quietly, deliberately. ‘My wife is right, you know. Andrew worshipped you. He thought you were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He even tolerated your phobias because it meant that he could mostly keep you to himself. He tried so hard to give you every damn thing you wanted, whether it was a diamond ring, or a fur coat, or lunch in the Mirabeau, but it was never enough for you, was it, Lydia? Even though I didn’t agree with it, my mother knew exactly what she was doing when she left the cottage to Laurence. Andrew would never have taken all those financial risks if it weren’t for you pushing him all the time. My mother was trying to save Laurence from you. If we didn’t need that money so badly, I wouldn’t think twice about letting Laurence have the cottage, but I will talk to him. You’ll get your own way again, Lydia, you always do.’
I had retrieved my bag and coat while he made his little speech. He had followed me out to the hall and down the front steps of their dilapidated house. I kept walking.
As it turned out, Finn and Rosie were not successful in persuading Laurence to give up the cottage. I suspect that they didn’t even try that hard. They had decided I was some kind of monster. My darling boy was now desperate to move out. And then Malcolm made everything considerably worse for me.
Laurence had not yet moved out, but he was coming home later and later, sometimes staying away overnight, without offering any explanation. I was careful not to ask questions, but I was sure he was sleeping around. On those nights, he ensured that Malcolm was there, but one night he arrived home at about nine o’clock and I could see from his face that something had happened. He found me in the kitchen.
‘Tell me about Diana,’ he said softly.
‘What?’
He took her framed photograph from behind his back and set it on the table between us. ‘Tell me about the day she drowned.’ He led me to a chair and gestured for me to sit down.
‘Why? I don’t want … What are you talking about?’
‘I remember when I was a child and I asked Dad about her, and he said that she’d drowned at the beach. He said that I must never ask you, because it upset you so much.’
‘He was right. I don’t want to talk about it.’ I made to get up, but Laurence blocked the doorway.
‘I’ve just had dinner with Malcolm. I can’t believe you have kept this secret from me for my whole life. He says I should ask you. It could really help you to talk about it. Tell me about the day Diana drowned.’
‘I don’t remember, I was just a child.’
‘He says you do remember, he says you can never forget it. He says she drowned, and that you blame yourself.’
For a stupid moment, I allowed myself to think that perhaps Malcolm was right. Perhaps sharing the story of the accident would bring Laurence closer to me. It had been quite a while since he had talked to me so tenderly. Everyone had always insisted it wasn’t my fault, and Laurence loved me. Maybe his forgiveness was what I needed.
‘After Diana died, I was sent away to an aunt in the countryside. I didn’t know if I would ever be allowed to come home again. I was lonely and terrified. I’ve never been so frightened. Even now, when I go to the shops, I cannot wait to get home. The feeling of banishment was torture to me. It was only ten months, but to a child it was an eternity.’
‘Mum,’ Laurence exhaled, and a little light entered my soul. I could feel it. Forgiveness was coming. ‘Go on, you can tell me. I won’t judge you, I won’t interrupt.’
‘It was after Mummy left. She didn’t die when we were babies like I told you. It would have been better if she had. Daddy married beneath him. Mummy was not like any of our friends’ mothers. She was loud and brash and wore scarlet lipstick.’
I was transported backwards to a different time, in this house, in its glory days. In my head, I heard Mummy and Daddy bickering in the hall.
‘Daddy spent so much time trying to teach Mummy how to behave in society, but she would come to our school sports day and get drunk and flirt with the other fathers. She always let us down. Diana was ashamed of her, but I loved my mother. And then she ran away with a plumber and I never saw her again. She left us. But I still loved her, stupid me. I could never quite accept that she didn’t love us enough to stay. After she went, everything was just … harder. All the softness disappeared from the house. Diana said she was glad that Mummy was gone. Daddy and Diana were always together, and I was left out. For two years, everything was awful and I was so sad all the time, and then one day Daddy said we could have a party for our ninth birthday. We got new dresses made of peacock silk. Our maid, Hannah, and Tom, the handyman, decorated the garden. It looked so beautiful. The cherry trees were in full blossom. There was a banquet laid out, and bunting was strung from tree to tree. We were so excited, I’m sure we didn’t sleep a wink coming up to the day. Diana and I had invited all the girls from our class, but …’ I choked up at the memory, ‘only Amy Malone showed up. She told us that the others weren’t allowed to come because our mother was a tart.’
Laurence was staring intently. I couldn’t bear for that tenderness to disappear, so I tempered my story, just a little.
‘I didn’t understand what she meant, and Diana said that Mummy had ruined everything and that I was just like her, that I was common, just like Mummy. She called me a hussy and we fought. I pushed her into the water, and she … hit her head. I felt dreadful. I still do. Everyone said that I must forgive myself, but –’
Laurence looked confused. ‘In the bath?’
‘No, darling, in the pond.’
‘Where Dad buried Annie Doyle?’
I was momentarily distracted as I wrenched myself forward in decades. ‘Yes, it was the most suitable place I could think of at the time, we were in such a panic that night …’
Laurence’s eyes opened wide and he stared at me, and I realized what I had just said. I stopped, checked myself, turned to face the sink and the darkened garden beyond. But it was too late.
‘You chose to bury Annie Doyle right there?’ He pointed out of the window into the darkness. ‘You knew?’
‘What? Sorry, I’m confused. We were talking about Diana …’
‘You just said that it was the most suitable pl
ace you could think of.’ Laurence leaped out of his chair. ‘You knew about it. Oh God!’
‘Laurence, you mustn’t …’
‘Did you kill her?’
‘No!’
‘You killed her and Dad covered it up? Is that what happened?’
‘Laurence, please calm down, you are being so melodramatic! I was talking about Diana and you confused me …’
He roared at me then: ‘Stop lying to me! Oh God, I can’t look at you.’
‘She deserved it! She was a thief and a liar. She betrayed us!’
He flew out of the room.
Daddy hadn’t been able to look at me after Mummy left, and after Diana died. I looked in the mirror above the kitchen table. I was still beautiful, I knew it, and yet nobody wanted to look at me. I heard Laurence throwing things around upstairs and then he ran downstairs with a suitcase in his hand and I met him in the hall.
‘Don’t go,’ I pleaded with him, ‘I’ll die.’
He stopped for a moment and I thought I had him, but his eyes filled with tears. He turned away and slammed the front door. I heard the car engine screeching into reverse. He drove away from me as if his life depended on it.
21
Karen
Being with Laurence was different to being with Dessie. Laurence made me feel like I was a person of my own, rather than Annie’s sister or someone’s property or baby maker. He didn’t expect me to be available when it suited him. He borrowed art books he thought that I might be interested in from the library. He drove me to the airport and wished me well when I went off on jobs, and greeted me with flowers on my return. I realized quickly that he was not as well off as I had supposed, but it had never been his wealth or class that I was interested in. He introduced me to his workmates, most of whom I’d met on those Friday pub nights when he was with Bridget. Some were OK with me and others were distinctly rude. ‘Some friend you turned out to be,’ said Evelyn on one of my first nights out with them as Laurence’s girlfriend, but I swore to her that I hadn’t ever wanted to hurt Bridget and that we hadn’t cheated on her.