I knew I had given myself and everyone else a hell of a shock. I seriously did not know what I was doing for a while and it had been very frightening. Tom and Rosie’s deaths weren’t going to go away but I felt as if I were myself again. I hurt, but I wanted to feel that pain; it was a part of being the self I was now. I needed to hurt to keep Rosie and Tom near me.
I decided suddenly that Naomi Watson deserved my honesty. Dad had asked for her help and I was being obstructive. But before I could say anything she said, ‘Jenny, you’ve done enormously well. I admire your bravery, I really do. I am aware you dislike these sessions and perhaps we should review your treatment after this one. How would it be if I don’t see you for another three months? However, I would like to talk over a few things with you before we decide.’
I looked at her expectantly.
She continued, ‘Tell me how you felt a few months after your husband and child were killed, before you met Ruth on the train.’
‘As if I was sleepwalking.’
‘You carried on working. You didn’t take a break?’
I looked at her. ‘I would have killed myself without my work.’
‘Were you on any medication?’
‘Just sleeping pills.’
‘So would you say you were just about coping at that time?’
I knew where Naomi was leading me. ‘Yes. I didn’t want to see people. I kept to the house and workrooms. I told you, I shared a house with two friends. They were wonderful and so was everyone I work with. If I’d been alone it would have been a different matter.’
‘When you got on the train that day, was it your first proper foray into the outside world since your husband and child died?’
I nodded.
‘How did you feel when you first saw Ruth after so many years? Were you glad to see her or did you feel you wanted to disappear and to be left in peace?’
I thought about this. ‘I was amazed to see her. I hadn’t thought about her for years. I didn’t feel I wanted to run away. I wanted to know what had happened to her and why she had vanished all those years ago. It all came back in a rush, how betrayed I felt by the fact that she never wrote to me.’ I looked at my hands. ‘Later, when she began to ask me questions about my life, I felt like running. It was like turning to water. It was the first time I’d had to tell anyone about their deaths. I told Ruth that Tom had died in a road accident.’
‘Had you and Ruth always been close as children or were you sometimes rivals?’
‘We were close. Dad must have told you, she spent more time at our house than her own.’
‘It’s not quite what I asked, Jenny.’
I was irritated again. ‘I can’t ever remember having an argument with her. She used to go quiet. Sometimes she didn’t want to play the same things as me and my sisters. At the convent we were in different streams. Ruth was more academic, she went for the sciences and I loved English and the arty subjects. We were never rivals.’
My voice trailed away as a small memory pushed itself upwards like a spring shoot: What about when you got to the sixth form and boys began to figure?
Naomi was watching me.
‘Maybe, just before she vanished we were a bit competitive over boys. Ruth was tall and blonde so she got lots of attention, but she was very serious and boys don’t always go for that. I suppose I was more frivolous. I used to dress outrageously and didn’t take anything too seriously.’
‘And now, do you think you are rivals now?’
How transparent the woman was. ‘We are not rivals over Adam,’ I said coldly.
‘Adam,’ Naomi repeated. ‘How…?’
‘Look, we’ve been over how I felt when I first saw Adam. You know perfectly well how devastating it was. How many more times…’
‘Do you still feel shock when you think of that moment?’
I felt sick with shock, not about my first sight of Adam but what I did later, when I seemed to be someone else, when I didn’t know what I was doing. I had frightened him so cruelly morning after morning in the dark. I didn’t want Naomi to see my hands shaking so I sat on them.
‘Jenny?’ she said.
I was suddenly angry. ‘Why? Why do you always push and push towards something that you know upsets me? I scared Adam. I scared myself. I wish it hadn’t happened, any of it, but I’m not that same person…’
Naomi sat there watching me in silence in her unnerving way.
‘Now I just feel so lucky to have met Adam. It was obviously meant to happen. Of course Ruth finds it difficult. I was married to the man who got her pregnant and Adam, who knew nothing about Tom, has a need to find out about his father. I’ve tried to reassure Ruth. We are still friends, despite everything. If you don’t believe me, ask Bea and James.’
‘I’m glad you and Ruth are still communicating. That’s good,’ Naomi said ambiguously. ‘You talk about Adam’s need to find out about his father. What you haven’t told me, Jenny, is what your need for Adam is.’
It was such a crass remark. I was furious. ‘Adam is my husband’s son. Tom never even knew he existed. I want Adam to know he had a wonderful father. It will help him. If Tom had lived, Adam would have come to find him as soon as he reached eighteen. Adam is part of Tom and if you find it strange of me to want him in my life then I think it’s you who need help.’ My voice broke and I stood up, furious, and stared down at her.
Naomi got up too. She looked upset although she tried to hide it. Her dark eyes held mine relentlessly. ‘Of course I understand. But I wonder if you are being entirely truthful with yourself. Sometimes we select a version of the truth. How do you see your future? Is Adam to be part of it? I’m afraid you are telling yourself, and maybe Ruth, one thing while embarking on a dangerous journey to make Adam an important part of your life. You are vulnerable, but so are Adam and Ruth. I am trying to help you to see that unknowingly you could hijack their lives in order to preserve your memory of Tom.’
We stood staring at each other. I said, ‘You are determined to believe this and nothing I can say will make any difference to your view of me. You haven’t got an open mind, Naomi. You’ve decided I’m still unbalanced. Yes, I do still feel frail, I am still grieving, but I am not insane, nor do I have an agenda. Ruth, Adam and I will work this out in our own way. I’m sorry if you’re disappointed that we can possibly manage without you, but there it is.’
I walked to the door and Naomi’s quiet voice followed me: ‘I have never for one moment thought you insane. I am trying to give you all the professional help I can. What you have experienced is beyond what most of us ever have to go through. It would be nearly impossible for anyone to be entirely rational having lost so much in such circumstances. You might not mean to use Adam as a lifeline but I want you to be aware of the possibility. Adam had a full life with Ruth and her husband before he met you. He had his own life and Tom can never be entirely real to him as Ruth, his mother, is.’
I turned at the door, put my hand on the frame to steady myself. ’Adam would have become part of Tom’s life had Tom lived, and so a part of mine too. He would have found us both and Tom would have been so proud of him. Adam needs to know who he is, find his roots. Everyone does. That doesn’t prevent Ruth from being his mother.’
Naomi came from behind her desk. ‘I understand Adam’s need to learn about his father. What I am asking you is, apart from Adam reminding you of Tom, what is your need of him? You see, he will always be Ruth’s son, Jenny. That is who he is. I just hope you have accepted that, because it is going to be far harder than walking out of that door.’
I hung on to the door frame for a moment longer. In that second, I hated her. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve been rude. I’m sure you genuinely want to help me. Please don’t send the bill to James, send it to me, I’d like to settle it. Goodbye, Naomi, thank you for your time.’
Naomi said quietly, ‘Good luck to you, Jenny. Take care.’
FORTY
Up on the quay, James looked at his watch. Bea was br
inging Jenny after her session with Naomi. They should be here soon. He called to the boys that he was going round to the Saltings to meet them. He had just crossed the railway line to the small station car park when they arrived.
Bea smiled at him and lifted her eyebrows, and he looked at Jenny’s white set face and thought, Oh dear. Poor Naomi.
He kissed them both. Jenny went ahead with the rugs, and he and Bea followed with the picnic.
‘Did you by chance buy a beer?’ he asked hopefully.
Bea laughed. ‘I did. I nearly bought myself a one-man gin and tonic but I thought it was the thin end of the wedge.’
James took her arm. ‘Not an unqualified success, are they, our sessions with Naomi?’
‘I gather Jenny’s knocked them on the head. She hasn’t said much, but she’s upset. I think she was rude to Naomi and that is rare for Jen, so perhaps Naomi wasn’t the right person.’
‘It happens,’ James said equably. ‘It is the loveliest of days, don’t let’s let anything spoil it. I love my daughter dearly, but she is over thirty. We can do what we think is best for her, but in the end she has to make her own decisions. There has to be a cut-off point of worry for you and me over all our children.’ He pulled her close for a second. ‘We have a life too, Bea.’
Bea laughed. ‘So we do. Keep reminding me at regular intervals.’
They put down the rug on a corner patch of sand below the old Station House. The boys had returned empty-handed. James watched Jenny crouching to the boys as they excitedly pointed out a bird to her. ’Happiness is a conscious decision, you know, not something that just happens. Do you remember what a happy, generous child Jenny was? She and Tom had that in common. They were joyful together.’
‘Soulmates. They were simply potty about each other. I know her sisters were sometimes jealous.’
‘Jenny and Tom made their happiness. Everything was a positive. They both worked damn hard and rarely moaned. Tom rang me from Iraq at the beginning of the war, Bea, in case he was killed. He was very anxious that I knew that if anything happened to him, Jenny and Rosie would be financially secure. He told me how happy they both made him and how much he loved them. I’d never heard him sound so serious before. Obviously he couldn’t tell me where he was going or what he was doing, but it was almost as if he expected to die. I could hear he was low and when he put the phone down I realised he was frightened too.’
Bea turned to him. ‘Oh, James. Oh, poor, brave Tom.’
‘What I’m trying to say is this. I think Jenny has consciously decided to be as happy as she can. I think maybe she was right and I was wrong to involve Naomi. She wants to get on with her life, to go forward. She and Ruth are both intelligent people who care for each other and they will work it out. I think we’ve underestimated her. I think Jen has more guts than we credit her with.’
The two boys were shaking out the rug and fooling about. They heard Jenny laugh suddenly as she chased them across the beach, pretending to tick them off.
Adam and Harry, full of sandwiches and pasties, skimmed stones into the incoming tide. All the time they had been fishing Adam had been thinking about schools. ‘So what are the lessons like at your school? How many in a class?’
‘I think there are twenty in our class. The work’s hard and you have lots of homework and there are detentions if you don’t behave.’
Adam grinned. ‘So you don’t have parents stomping in and threatening to beat up the teachers if they give detentions, then?’
Harry laughed. ‘Not likely. The fees are, like, thousands of pounds. Parents are more likely to come in and demand that their child be put in detention if they’re not working.’
‘So you’re a clever dick, then?’
Harry snorted. ‘Don’t you call me a dick.’
They fell about laughing and Jenny over on the rug put her book down and called, ‘OK, tell us the joke.’
This produced howls of mirth. One of them farted, and they both went purple and had hysterics and shot off back towards the beach.
James looked up from under his panama hat and smiled at Jenny. ’Isn’t it absolutely amazing that a fart renders any male on the planet hysterical with mirth?’ They grinned at each other.
Bea had gone on home to have time on her own. James put his head back down on the rug and sighed. ‘This is nice, darling. Summer is just round the corner.’
‘Bliss,’ Jenny said. ‘Dad, I think I’ll take a walk along the Saltings. There was a house to rent in The Cornishman down here somewhere. I’ll just see if I can find it…for interest.’
‘Would you like me to come?’
‘No, you snooze. I won’t be long. Dad?’ James opened one eye, knowing what was coming. ‘I think I was pretty rude to Naomi Watson.’
‘Well, if you know you were then you can write and apologise, but I imagine she’s used to it.’
‘I’m not, though.’
‘Good. Go for your walk before the sun disappears. We’ll chat later.’
FORTY-ONE
I vaguely remembered the house. I had come to Lelant sometimes with Bea when I was still at school. She had a friend who lived on the Saltings and we had walked the woman’s dog down this road and along the estuary to the beach.
The trees cast moving shadows across the road and scents from the gardens blew towards me on the wind, reminding me of my childhood. The tide was coming in and the water gleamed to my right, silver sparks glinting off the surface like falling stars. I had my first tiny frisson of happiness in being alive since Tom died and I stopped abruptly, my heart pounding at the betrayal.
Into this tranquil afternoon Tom’s laughing face slid behind my eyes. I suddenly felt he was walking in step with me as if to discover where I might begin to live again without him.
I rounded a corner and there the house stood, back from the road in a garden that wound upwards full of heathers and small ornamental trees. There were also many bird tables and breeding boxes. Certainly no birds went hungry here. I stood behind the gate looking up. There was the faint incongruous sound of Mahler coming from inside.
I hesitated, wondering if it would be all right to walk up the path and knock on the door without making an appointment. As I stood there a young woman came out, carrying bin bags full of rubbish. ‘Hello,’ she called. ‘Can I help you?’
‘I was just wondering if this was the house advertised to rent in The Cornishman.’
‘Sure is.’ The woman sounded Antipodean. She grinned and deposited her rubbish in the bin by the gate. ‘Want to come in and take a look?’
‘If it’s OK.’
‘Sure. You’ll have to take us as you find us, we’re doing a mass clear-out. Hi, my name’s Maggie Bruce.’ She held out her hand and I took it.
‘Hi, I’m Jenny Holland.’
‘This was my aunt’s house. She’s just died. My mum is not well enough to fly to England at the moment and I was over in Europe with my bloke working, so we’ve copped the job of clearing up. Come on in.’
The house was in chaos, there was stuff heaped everywhere. A bronzed male surfer type nodded at me from a floor covered with old newspapers.
‘Jeez, Maggie, the old girl never threw anything away!’
‘Don’t I know it?’ The girl grinned at me. ‘This whingeing man is Dean. I reckon when we go to bed the fairies fill up the cupboards and shelves again.’
‘You looking for somewhere to rent, then?’ Dean asked.
‘Yes, for at least six months.’
‘That would suit us great,’ the girl said. ‘My aunt was unmarried and she’s left the house to all her family. We’re not sure what to do with it yet. Mum might decide to sell but she’s sort of sentimental about the place. She used to come over every other year to spend some of the summer with her sister. So we thought we’d rent it out while we decide.’ She pushed some boxes out of the way. ‘Come and have a look. It’s pretty small and it looks tacky inside, but we’ve had all the main services checked and everything’s good.
The outside of the house has been painted, but I guess the old girl was too much of a hoarder for anyone to attempt the inside.’
It was not a pretty house inside. The rooms were small and somehow awkwardly angled so that the windows caught the sun, but it was as if they had been added as an afterthought. The house felt as if it had been plonked down, laid out and the architect had thought, Whoops! I should have laid it thirty degrees to the right. I thought he must either have had limited imagination or wasn’t an architect at all. But the house was south-facing, with only the road between the garden and the wonderful rolling expanse of estuary. As I stood there I could hear the long, undulating sound of curlews and I shivered, for the noise was as familiar as breathing.
Dean turned to a small CD player and Mahler’s Fifth flooded the little house. I stood there rooted. It felt like a sign.
‘How much rent a month are you asking?’
She looked surprised. ‘You’re the first person to like this place! A few people, men mostly, have said they’d pull it down and begin again.’
‘Well, it’s not a pretty house, but the position is heavenly.’ I looked around. ‘It could easily be improved if a wall or two came down.’
‘Aunt Nelly was a bit of an eccentric. She came to England to teach in the war and never returned home. She fell in love with Cornwall on a holiday. I think she sort of built this house herself and added bits she’d got wrong.’
‘That’d be about right!’ Dean said.
‘To answer your question,’ Maggie said, suddenly anxious, ‘we were sort of hoping we could start with a reduced rent and maybe the tenant could do the inside decoration. Problem is we have to leave in ten days’ time. We’re musicians and we have to join the rest of the ensemble in Vienna. We split up for the summer to play different venues. Thing is we have to practise a lot each day and clearing up this house is taking for ever.’
Come Away With Me Page 17