by Kate Mosse
Marion beckons her in. Julie gets up. She doesn’t want Susan to see her upset.
JULIE:
I’m just leaving.
SUSAN:
No. Don’t go on my account.
MARION:
I don’t think either of you should go. (There’s something in her voice that cuts through both Susan and Julie’s awkwardness.) It just seems such a waste. You two. All those years of friendship. The three of us.
Suddenly, both realise Marion has engineered the whole evening. They turn on her.
JULIE:
(Accusingly) You chose that piece of music deliberately, didn’t you?
SUSAN:
I can’t believe you thought this would be a good idea. What did you think, Marion, that we could just forget the last three years? For old time’s sake?
MARION:
(Steadfast) It’s gone on too long. You two should talk. Start talking, at least. Before it’s too late. See if—
JULIE:
See if what? What, Marion? If you can bring Sarah back? See if we can gloss over the fact that she (she points at Susan) killed my daughter?
SUSAN:
(At breaking point) But that’s not how it was. You know that’s not how it was. The coroner, everyone, said it wasn’t my fault. He – Matt – lost control of the car in the rain. The river had come up over the road. I swerved to avoid them, he skidded and hit the wall and . . . well. There was nothing I could do. Julie, believe me—
JULIE:
(Interrupting) You walked away without a scratch.
SUSAN:
That’s not true. I was in hospital for—
JULIE:
(Not listening) You’d been drinking.
SUSAN:
One glass. I wasn’t over the limit.
JULIE:
(Twisting the crucifix at her neck between her fingers.) Don’t you dare tell me it was only one glass! Don’t you dare! Have you forgotten I was the one who sat with you night after night after Pete had left you? It was me that stopped the girls seeing you drunk, clearing away the bottles. So don’t you dare tell me it was just one glass!
SUSAN:
That was then. A few months, that’s all. Never again. Never since then.
MARION:
Julie . . .
JULIE:
(Ignoring Marion) But what if that one glass of wine dulled your reactions? What if, because of that one glass of wine, you weren’t quick enough, sharp enough? It might have made the difference.
MARION:
You know it wouldn’t. The coroner was quite clear that there was nothing Susan could have done. You heard him say it.
SUSAN:
(Wearily) It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to argue.
MARION:
Look. In one way or another, we all feel responsible. (They both look at her) Yes, all of us. It’s hard, I know it’s hard. Phoebe lost her best friend. Do you two have to lose each other as well? Susan is wracked by guilt, I—
JULIE:
(Interrupting) Poor Susan, poor Phoebe, poor Marion. But what about Sarah? What about me?
MARION:
Matt swerved and lost control and he died. Like Sarah, he died and left you with no one to blame. Julie, I’m only saying that if you could accept it was an accident, that it wasn’t Susan’s fault, then perhaps you—
JULIE:
(Turning on her) Whose fault is it then? Mine? Is that what you’re saying?
SUSAN:
(Simultaneously) No one thinks that.
MARION:
(Simultaneously) Of course not.
JULIE:
(Turning on Marion) What about you? You knew about it, didn’t you? You had a duty of care. She was a pupil. He was a teacher. A member of your staff. You should have done something.
MARION:
He wasn’t. Not by then. (Pauses) I did my best. You know I did. I talked to her. There wasn’t anything else I could do.
JULIE:
There was plenty you could have done. There are rules about that sort of thing, a relationship between a pupil and a teacher. Aren’t there? (Marion doesn’t answer) Well, aren’t there?
MARION:
(Deliberately) He had left the school. He wasn’t her teacher. I didn’t think I had the right to interfere.
JULIE:
No. You chose not to. For reasons of your own, you chose to do nothing. And because of you – and you (to Susan) – my child is dead. My daughter is dead. So when you tell me, Marion, we should talk, I say to you, what is there to talk about? What is there to talk about, tell me that?
Marion tries to put her hand on Julie’s arm.
JULIE:
Don’t.
SCENE 12
SARAH:
I really loved him, Mum. He was amazing. We’d got it all worked out. I’d get my A levels out the way, then go to college – Guildhall, fingers crossed – and he’d get a job in London. It’d be perfect.
But, I loved you too, Mum. I never meant for this to happen. Love you.
SCENE 13
Action resumes. Julie looks at the space where Sarah was standing, as if she heard her.
JULIE:
Sarah said she’d done her homework, and was going over to Phoebe’s. (Julie turns to Susan) She said you knew. Were expecting her. (Susan nods) I didn’t believe her. Accused her of being deceitful, of lying so she could sneak out to see him. Said awful things.
I waited for her to come back. Angry – and then worried. Oh, not really. Just like you do. It started to rain really hard and I – I didn’t know where she was, I didn’t know. (Pauses) She called him. Called him. Called him to come and get her. Him, not me.
It was easier to hate you than to hate myself. To make it your fault. Somebody else’s fault. There was a part of me that was actually pleased when Phoebe became ill – depressed – because it seemed only fair. Such evil thoughts. And this did – does – nothing. God doesn’t help. All those prayers I say don’t help me to make sense of things. Just words. They don’t help me to accept or forgive. (Looks at Susan) And you? The one person who in other circumstances I would turn to? The one person I couldn’t bear to be near.
Susan leans over and touches Julie’s arm. This time, she does not shrug her off. Susan holds the position a moment, then withdraws her hand.
SUSAN:
I relive that night over and over in my mind. If only I hadn’t gone to that party. If only I’d stayed here with Phoebe. If only it hadn’t been me behind the wheel. If only.
MARION:
(An echo of her earlier speech) If only I had put a stop to it. I suppose, there was part of me that rejoiced to see her so confident, suddenly, so sure of herself. She was a different girl – young woman. When I looked at her and saw her so radiant, I couldn’t bring myself to spoil it.
JULIE:
(Weary) It wasn’t your decision to make.
MARION:
(Quietly) But was it yours?
All three fall silent for a moment. Sarah looks at each of them in turn.
SUSAN:
(To Julie) I miss you.
JULIE:
(Catches her breath) I miss you. I do miss you, but it’s too hard. When I look at you, I see only what I’ve lost.
SUSAN:
I understand.
JULIE:
It wasn’t your fault. I do know that. (Looks to Marion) Or yours.
SUSAN:
Can you forgive me? That it was me?
JULIE:
I don’t know. I don’t know. (Her hand goes to the crucifix at her neck).
Slowly, the light fades, leaving only a spotlight on the photograph on the desk for a few seconds. For a moment, Sarah’s face is visible backstage centre, as if watching over the older women. She is smiling. Then, fade to black.
Acknowledgements
I’d like to thank everyone at LAW, ILA and Inkwell Management who give such expert advice and care – in particular Alice Saunders, Nicki Kennedy, Sam Eden
borough and Mark Lucas, for his endless time, good company . . . and those electronic notes!
At Orion, there’s a wonderful team of hard working, enthusiastic, energetic people – too many to name everyone – but special mention must go to Jon Wood, Genevieve Pegg, Eleanor Dryden, Laura Gerrard, Anthony Keates, Gaby Young, copy editor Liz Hatherell, the fantastic sales forces (both inhouse and on the road), the art department and Rohan Eason for his beautiful and atmospheric illustrations. Last, but by no means least, the force of nature that is Susan Lamb!
I’m also very appreciative of the support of my publishers all over the world – especially Isabelle Laffont at Lattès, Annette Weber at Droemer-Knaur, Cathrine Bakke Bolin at Gyldendal, Rachel Kahan at Morrow (for Governors Island and much else), Frederika van Traa at Unieboek – and everyone at Hachette Australia, Hachette New Zealand, Hachette Canada and Jonathan Ball in South Africa.
I’d like to thank the following publishers for their permission to use the following quotations: W.W.Norton for lines from ‘Dispossessions’ by Jane Cooper, Yale University Press for lines from ‘A Bride’s Hours’ by Jean Valentine and Faber and Faber for lines from ‘Church Going’ by Philip Larkin and ‘The Dry Salvages’ by T.S. Eliot.
Finally, as always, my love and gratitude to my family and friends who are patient and always proud, despite the number of hours I spend hidden away and avoiding the washing up! My mother Barbara and my mother-in-law Rosie, but most of all Greg, Martha and Felix. I couldn’t do it – any of it – without you.
ALSO BY KATE MOSSE
Fiction
THE LANGUEDOC TRILOGY
Labyrinth
Sepulchre
Citadel
Eskimo Kissing
Crucifix Lane
The Winter Ghosts
Non-Fiction
Becoming a Mother
The House: Behind the Scenes at the
Royal Opera House, Covent Garden
Chichester Festival Theatre at Fifty
Plays
Syrinx
Endpapers
Dodger
Copyright
AN ORION EBOOK
First published in Great Britain in 2013 by Orion Books
This ebook first published in 2013 by Orion Books
Copyright © Mosse Associates Ltd 2013
Illustrations © Rohan Daniel Eason 2013
The right of Kate Mosse to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN: 978 1 4091 1209 9
Lines from ‘Dispossessions’, from THE FLASHBOAT: POEMS COLLECTED AND RECLAIMED by Jane Cooper. Copyright © 2000 by Jane Cooper. Used by permission of W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.
Lines from ‘Church Going’ from THE LESS DECEIVED by Philip Larkin. Copyright © 1955 Estate of Philip Larkin. Used by permission of Faber and Faber Ltd.
Lines from ‘The Dry Salvages’, from FOUR QUARTETS by T.S. ELIOT. Copyright © 1941 T.S. Eliot. Used by permission of Faber and Faber Ltd.
A version of ‘Sainte-Thérèse’ was first published in Woman & Home magazine (2005); a version of ‘Red Letter Day’ first appeared in an anthology called Little Black Dress, edited by Susie Maguire (Polygon, 2006); ‘La Fille de Mélisande’ first appeared in Midsummer Nights, edited by Jeanette Winterson (Quercus 2008); a shorter version of ‘The House on the Hill’ first appeared in Woman & Home magazine (2009); a version of ‘The Revenant’ first appeared in two instalments in The Big Issue (2009); ‘Why the Yew Tree Lives So Long’ was first published in the collection Why Willows Weep, edited by Tracy Chevalier (IndieBooks, 2011).
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