Austin stepped closer. ‘Lara, please …’
For a moment Harriet thought she’d made a terrible mistake saying what she’d said. But then something occurred to her. ‘But she must have cared, Lara. She got in touch with my mum. She came to see us that day, when you first stayed with us. She spoke to Mum all the time, and she asked her to be your guardian when they went to Ireland. Wasn’t that what she was doing? Making sure you would be all right while she was away? Caring about you? Wanting to make sure you would be looked after?’
Lara was staring at her.
Harriet was struggling, but she felt every word. ‘I can’t even start to think why she did it, Lara. But I believe she had thought of you. Perhaps she had us there ready as your family, just in case. She had been thinking about you.’
‘But I wanted her, Harriet. My mother. Dad was different in a way. He came and went all the time, and he would do me drawings and we would have some fun but then he would go again. But I remember Mum. We did have some good times. She and I would go on walks or catch the tram down to the beach and pick out shells together. And she liked cooking. She would make special meals just for the two of us sometimes, with candles and cutlery and napkins, and three courses. And we would toast each other. And she would buy little chocolate mints for afterwards …’ She stopped. ‘But none of it meant anything to her, did it? She wouldn’t have done this if it had.’
‘She must have been so sick, Lara,’ Austin said. ‘I can’t understand it all, but she must have been. They must have had a huge fight, maybe they’d both been drinking, she did something terrible and panicked. Maybe she couldn’t see a way out. She realised what she’d done to your father and she couldn’t face —’
Lara interrupted. ‘I remember the night Penny told me. I was at a school camp. The teacher made me sit in a room until Penny came. No one would tell me what had happened, but I knew it had to be something to do with my parents. There was nothing else. And Penny came in, and she knelt down on the floor beside me and she said—’
Harriet held her breath.
‘She said that something very sad had happened but before she told me what it was she wanted me to know that I would always be loved and looked after and I would always have a home with her. And then she told me what had happened. That there had been a crash. And that my parents—’ The tears were flowing but Lara didn’t blink them away.
Harriet wanted to move closer to her, but something still kept her back.
Lara kept talking. ‘And I said to her, “Did I make it happen? So I could come and live with you again?” And that was so wrong. I should have been thinking of my mum and dad and been so sad about them. But I wasn’t. Not until later. That’s how bad I was.’
‘Lara, you were eight years old,’ Austin said. ‘How could you have understood what it meant? It wasn’t because of you. It wasn’t your fault it happened.’
‘That’s what Penny would always say to me, when I thought I had killed them, that I’d made the car crash happen. She told me I was never to blame myself.’
‘Then believe her,’ Harriet said. ‘Please, Lara.’
‘I knew something, Harriet. I always knew there was something that Penny didn’t tell me. She would tell me all these stories about my mother and father and try to make them sound all loving and happy but I knew it hadn’t been like that. I could remember the fighting and the mess and the moving around. And Penny must have known I would remember that, but she always tried to paint the brightest picture of them she could. Yet I always knew that something about my parents made her uncomfortable. I thought at first that she didn’t like them. But she told me she did. Then I thought about it some more, and I came up with something even better. I decided that I was your father’s daughter. That he and my mother had had an affair on the ship. That I was his natural daughter.’
‘Were you?’ Austin asked the question.
‘No.’ She gave a faint smile. ‘I asked him one day. I asked both of them. He said he would have been proud if I was, but I wasn’t.’
Harriet had a clear memory of Lara talking to her parents in the garden, and feeling jealous. Feeling left out. She was ashamed of herself.
‘You were his daughter, though,’ Austin said. ‘And you were Mum’s daughter too. It didn’t matter to them where you came from, they were just glad to have you. It’s true.’
‘I’ll never know for sure. I can’t ask them now. I can’t ask Penny about any of this. I’ll never know the whole story now.’
Austin noticed Harriet’s eyes fill with tears, and also that she quickly brushed them away. He made a decision. ‘Will you both excuse me for a minute?’
He went outside and took out his mobile phone. It was nearing twilight, the air filled with sounds of insects, birds in the hedges, the mooing cows in the distance. The light was hazy. He could see through the window into the living room. Harriet and Lara were visible. Neither of them was talking. He dialled the long-distance number. ‘Gloria, I know it’s very late. I’m so sorry. We’re here with Lara.’
It was as if she had been waiting for his call. ‘Is she all right?’ ‘She’s fine.’ That was the wrong word to describe Lara, he realised. ‘No, she’s not fine. She’s angry, with all of us. Confused. She needs to know more.’ He hesitated. ‘I know you’ve had enough of us, and you have every right to feel that way, but please, Gloria, can you do one more thing for us as a family? Would you talk to Lara? Would you tell her anything you remember about that night? About why Mum did what she did?’
There was no hesitation from Gloria. ‘Austin, I’ll talk to Lara for as long as she needs. Tonight or any time she likes.’
Lara was on the phone to Gloria for nearly an hour. Harriet and Austin sat outside on a bench in the garden while she talked to her. They heard murmurs. When she came out, her eyes were red-rimmed but there were no tears. She didn’t tell them what Gloria had said.
Lara didn’t invite them back inside the house. The three of them went for a walk instead. Harriet wasn’t sure who suggested it. They didn’t go far, just to the end of the road. There was a farm, neatly painted, whitewashed buildings, a two-storey house. Harriet thought of the newpaper article, the fax folded in her bag. Was this the farm where the woman who found Lara’s parents had lived?
None of them spoke much. Austin pointed out a glimpse of a lake visible between some low hills. They tried to think of the name of a bird that came flapping out of a tree beside them. Lara thought it was a rook. Harriet thought it was a jackdaw. Austin said he didn’t know.
They reached the gate and the yard of the cottage again. Something stopped Harriet and Austin from going any further.
Lara spoke. ‘This will sound rude, and I’m sorry, but I want you both to go now.’
Austin was surprised. ‘To leave?’
Lara nodded. ‘I don’t want you to stay here. I need to be here on my own.’
‘Lara, is that a good idea?’
The chill again. ‘I’ll decide that, thanks, Austin.’
‘We want you to be all right. I don’t like to think of you—’
‘I’ll be all right.’
Harriet searched Lara’s face. This felt wrong. Lara shouldn’t be here on her own. ‘You’re sure you don’t want to come with us? The three of us. We could—’
‘No thanks, Harriet.’
No discussion. ‘Lara, what will you do?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Will you come back home? Back to Merryn Bay?’
‘I don’t know anything yet. I need to think about it. Stay here and think about it all. On my own.’
Austin said what they were both thinking. ‘Lara, please promise us you won’t—’
‘Kill myself? No, Austin. I won’t. I’ve got so much to live for. So many people who will miss me,’ Lara said. Her tone was sarcastic.
‘Lara, please—’
‘I won’t kill myself, Harriet.’
Austin put his hand on her arm. ‘Lara, you still have us. This
doesn’t change anything for us.’
‘It’s already changed, Austin.’
‘This is it? You don’t want to see us again?’
‘I don’t know.’
Harriet needed to try again. ‘Lara—’
As Lara turned to her, Harriet recognised the look in her eyes. She remembered it from when Lara came to live with them after her parents died, that faraway, scared look. It silenced her.
Austin spoke. ‘We’ll go if that’s what you want us to do.’
‘It’s what I want.’
‘Can we ring you?’ he asked. ‘Make sure you’re okay?’
Lara didn’t say yes or no.
They stood for a second and then Austin stepped forward and gave her the quickest of hugs. ‘See you soon, blister.’
Lara didn’t hug him back. ‘Goodbye, bother.’
Harriet was next. It felt wrong. It felt bad to leave like this. But Lara was like a statue. She wanted them gone. She didn’t want them anywhere near her. Harriet could feel the coldness coming off her in waves. ‘Lara—’
‘Goodbye, Harriet.’
She didn’t hug Harriet back either. She stood there, still, while Harriet awkwardly put her arms around her.
There was nothing else to say. Harriet and Austin walked back to the car in silence. They didn’t wave as they drove past the house again. There was no point. Lara had already gone inside.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Austin and Harriet were on the main road back to Cork before they could talk about it. It was a beautiful spring evening. There was little traffic. Austin turned on the radio, changing the station from pop music to current affairs. He found an Irish language station and left it on there. For a while the only sound in the car was bursts of traditional music, interspersed with the rolling and rhythmic sounds of spoken Irish.
Harriet was the first to reach over and turn it down. ‘Aust? Are you all right?’
‘No.’
‘She doesn’t want us in her life any more, does she?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘She said goodbye. We said “see you” and she said “goodbye”.’
‘I know.’
‘What can we do? How can we help her?’
‘I don’t think there’s anything we can do. I think we have to wait. Let her decide what she wants to do.’
They were silent for a few minutes.
‘What are you going to do now?’ she asked.
‘Now tonight or now the rest of my life?’
‘Both.’
‘I need to get back to work. We’ve got a performance in Cologne tomorrow night. I’ll try for a flight back tonight. Go straight to the airport now. Beyond that, I don’t know. What are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know.’ She hadn’t thought beyond seeing Lara. She made herself remember the itinerary. She wouldn’t let herself think about Patrick. ‘I need to be back in Bristol in a week to take the group back to Australia.’
‘We can get a flight together. You can come with me to Germany if you want. If you don’t want to be here on your own. It might be better if you’re not.’
The kindness in his voice nearly undid her. She didn’t know where she wanted to be. Her head was too full of Lara, of what Lara had learnt, of the expression on her face. Her mobile phone rang, the sound very loud in the small car. They both hoped for the same thing.
‘Is it her?’ Austin said.
Harriet looked at the number. She didn’t recognise it. ‘I don’t think so.’ She pressed Connect. ‘Hello?’
‘Harriet? I hope this isn’t a bad time?’
‘Patrick?’ Harriet had been imagining him on his flight to Boston. It would have left an hour before. ‘Where are you? Has your flight been delayed?’
‘No, I changed my ticket. I’m in Cork.’
‘In Cork?’
‘Is Lara all right? Are you all right?’
‘Yes. No … I don’t know yet. Why are you in Cork?’
‘I had to see you again.’ A pause. ‘I didn’t like the way we said goodbye.’
She hesitated. ‘I didn’t like it either.’
‘Is there anything I can do? Do you need me to come and get you?’
‘No, I’m with my brother. We’re on our way back to Cork.’
‘Would you come and see me? When you feel you can?’
‘Yes.’
He gave her the name of his hotel and the room number. She said goodbye and hung up. She wasn’t shocked or surprised. She was numb.
Austin was watching her. ‘Did you say Patrick? Was that Patrick Shawcross?’
Harriet nodded.
‘Where was he calling from?’
‘Cork.’
‘But he was due to fly back to Boston today, wasn’t he? Wasn’t Nina looking after him?’
‘He changed his flight.’
‘Why would he have done that?’
Harriet hesitated. ‘He wanted to see me again.’
‘So he’s followed you? That puts a different slant on things. Cads don’t usually do any following. If he’s followed you then he must—’ He stopped there, sensing Harriet’s mood. ‘You want me to mind my own business, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I do.’
There was silence for a minute. ‘It’s hard. I want to say things.’
‘You can’t.’
‘Can I say good luck? That I thought he seemed—’
‘You only met him for a minute, Austin. You don’t know what he’s like.’
‘No, you’re right.’ There was a long pause. ‘Do you like him?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Very much?’
‘Very much.’
‘That’s all right then.’
They were quiet again for a minute and then she turned to him. ‘I liked Nina, by the way.’
‘Did you?’
‘Yes. Did you like her?’
‘Mind your own business, Harold.’
‘Don’t call me Harold.’
‘Mind your own business, Harriet.’
She smiled a little as she turned and looked out the window.
They hugged goodbye at the airport. Austin had phoned ahead. There was a flight leaving within the hour. Harriet was keeping the hire car. It was a difficult farewell.
‘We have to let her come to terms with it, Harriet. If she wants that space, we have to give it to her.’
‘Even if we’re not sure it’s the best thing?’
‘Yes. This is huge for her. We have to give her what she wants. And she wants to be on her own.’
Harriet wasn’t sure he was right. There wasn’t time to talk about it any more. She hugged him goodbye. ‘See you, Austie.’
‘See you, too. Ring me. Or text me. Whenever you need to. Keep talking to me. Let me know if you hear anything from her.’
‘I will. And you too. If she rings you. Keep talking to me, too.’
‘Of course.’ He reached over and pretended to tweak her nose. ‘Only joking. See you, Harriet.’
They hugged each other goodbye again.
Harriet drove into the centre of Cork and found Patrick’s hotel. She parked the car, took her bag and walked down the street. She didn’t know how she felt. So sad for Lara, glad he had come, both at once.
It was a modern hotel in an old stone building, decorated with plush blue carpet, red sofas and modern art on the walls. She took the lift to the third floor, walked along the quiet, carpeted corridor and knocked at the door.
She didn’t run into his arms. He didn’t pick her up and sweep her off her feet. He just said her name. ‘Harriet. Please, come in.’
It was a large suite with a living area, separate bedroom, a large window looking out over the city, the river shining below. The day before it had been the two of them in St Ives, in another hotel room. Now they were in a different country, looking over a river not a sea. More than that had changed.
‘How is she?’ Patrick asked. ‘How was it?’
‘I don’t k
now yet. She’s very angry with us. She’s hurt. She wants us to leave her alone.’
‘What do you want to do?’
‘For her? Whatever she wants. Whatever she needs us to do.’
‘And you? What do you want to do?’
‘I don’t know, Patrick. Cry. Think. Sleep.’
He opened his arms. ‘Come here to me, Harriet.’
She moved towards him, feeling his warm, solid body, feeling his arms come tightly around her. She stood like that for what felt like a long time, his fingers stroking her back and her hair, hearing him murmur her name. It overwhelmed her. She pressed her face against his chest and cried and cried.
She woke. It was dark outside. She didn’t know if she had slept for hours or just a short time. She was in the bedroom on her own.
Patrick had put her to bed once the tears stopped. He had pulled back the bedclothes and the crisp white sheets and helped her in. She had taken only her shoes off. Then he had lain down on the bed beside her, put his arms around her and listened as she told him all that had happened with Lara. He had asked questions. He had let her cry again. Then he held her close against him until she fell asleep.
She got out of bed. He wasn’t there. There was a note on the table. He’d written the time he’d left and one sentence, in strong handwriting: Harriet, I’ll be back very soon. Patrick. She checked the time. It was six p.m. He had just gone.
She took a shower, standing under the hot water, thinking hard. There was something she needed to do. Something she had been thinking about while she was driving here, while she was talking to Patrick. As soon as she had woken she knew it was the right thing. She also knew it was urgent. If she didn’t do it now, as soon as she could, it might never be possible again.
When she came out of the bathroom, fully dressed, Patrick was back. He was sitting at the table by the window, reading. The lights of Cork were visible outside the window. There was a bottle of wine and two glasses on the table beside him. He looked over and smiled.
‘Hello again.’
She walked across to him and put her arms around his neck. He drew her close against him and kissed her. It was a soft, sweet, gentle kiss. She kissed him back, feeling his body hard against hers, the cotton of his shirt, then his skin, smooth, underneath it. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to feel every part of his body again. Lose herself in him, feel safe and sure. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t when she knew how Lara was feeling.
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