by Kate Forster
Wendy said nothing, because Tressa was right in a way. She had focused too much on Rosewyn.
‘I just didn’t want to forget her,’ she said, looking at Tressa.
‘You didn’t let anyone forget her – not that we would have, Mum – but you were so hard on me because I wasn’t her.’
‘That’s not fair. I was proud of you. I pushed you because I saw your talent.’
‘So much that you only hung one of my works in your home? So much that you sounded surprised when I told you the gallery called me? I bet you didn’t think I could do that again after my breakdown at college.’
Wendy felt her defences rise as Tressa spoke, because she knew what she was saying was the truth but she couldn’t say it to her daughter because then what sort of a mother did that make her?
‘That’s not true. I went and saw Barbara Crawford. I know her, you know, and I bought everything you painted. I want to replace everything in the house with your work.’
Tressa gasped and for a moment Wendy thought it was through excitement but then she slammed her hand on the table, causing a piece of the butchered baguette to fall off the top of the pile into the bowl.
‘You made Barbara Crawford call me, didn’t you? I didn’t earn that; you made it happen and you bought all of my art. God, that’s so embarrassing. Jesus, she must think I am some spoiled brat whose mummy still has to make her feel she has contributed to the world somehow.’
Tressa was yelling now and out of her chair and Wendy knew nothing she said would be heard in the face of this rage..
Tressa was leaning against the kitchen cupboards, shaking her head. ‘Do you know what Caro once said about you?’
Wendy felt her hackles rise at the mention of Caro talking about her to Tressa. She knew Tressa felt closer to Caro than her, and Wendy wondered if Tressa wished Caro was her mother instead of herself.
‘No, I don’t know what Caro said about me but I am assuming it’s not flattering since you have decided to bring it up in this context.’
Wendy clasped her hands in her lap, trying to keep her composure.
‘She said you stayed in grief with Rosewyn and never let yourself love me. The loss was bigger than anything I could replace, and you were angry, so you pointed out all the ways I wasn’t Rosewyn. All the ways I wasn’t what you wanted.’
Wendy was silent, trying to think of something to say, something she could use to defend herself, or something to explain but there was nothing there.
Instead she looked up at Tressa, her mind blank. ‘I think the quiche is burning,’ she said.
Tressa shook her head slowly and then sighed. ‘Fuck the quiche, Wendy, it’s done. Now go home and let me live my life alone.’
35
Easter in Port Lowdy had always been something that the village excelled at. Port Lowdians were not particularly religious in the main – but the decorations and colours matched the village.
There was an Easter service at St Cuthbert’s, which some residents only went to as an excuse to then attend the Seaside Easter Egg Hunt. There was no end of activities for the tourists, which Tressa was supposed to photograph with Dan. But he wasn’t anywhere to be found.
She tried the pub, but Pamela said he had checked out. He wasn’t at Penny’s and he wasn’t at Janet’s. She asked her casually over the fence.
‘Oh no,’ Janet said, ‘he hasn’t been here, but I did hear from Rosemary March when she picked up old Walter from the bus stop that Dan was driving towards Plymouth, and he looked very determined.’
‘I bet he did,’ Tressa said. And she jumped on her bike and tied Richie’s leash to the handlebars and went riding away along the esplanade.
‘Determined to get away from me,’ she muttered as she pedalled. ‘And leaving me with his giant, crotch-sniffing, farting dog.’ Richie seemed to have not missed Dan at all, which was both pleasing and concerning.
It had been a week since she’d had the fight with Wendy and paired with the break-up with Dan, she felt desolate. If her childhood with Wendy had taught her anything, it was to continue as though nothing had happened and as though everything was normal.
Penny was adamant she hadn’t seen Dan. But Tressa was sure she knew more than she let on. Marcel said Remi was with Dan and he didn’t know where or when Remi would be back.
Tressa had texted Dan so often she thought she might soon receive a cease and desist letter.
Maybe he would be back at the office, she thought as she rode along the esplanade, Richie loping joyfully beside her. As they came around the bend, the expanse of the beach came into view and seagulls flew off the stone wall as Tressa and Richie approached. And then he lurched.
He lurched so hard at the birds, his leash still attached to the bike, that Tressa flew over the handlebars, while Richie leapt clean over the wall, dragging the bike clattering behind him.
Tressa heard herself scream, then she felt herself flying through the air, about to land on the road. The last thing she thought was, ‘I’m going to break my arm.’ And she did.
*
Dan drove back from Plymouth with Remi. They had photographed Remi leaning against the pier where the ferry had come over from France. And then a short video, with Dan asking questions about his time in prison, his life before prison, the pain he felt for the family of the man who died and how he never had a chance in hell of a fair trial against the power of the victim’s family.
Dan had listened carefully and made many notes as Remi spoke.
This was a new form of journalism for Dan and one that meant he didn’t need to be the angriest man in Ireland, or the United Kingdom. He would write the facts and allow the reader to get angry on Remi’s behalf.
He wondered what he would do if anyone ever tried to attack Tressa. He couldn’t bear thinking about it, nor the thought that she now hated him so much. He had been receiving her texts and calls but he just couldn’t speak to her yet.
But he had told George he would be finishing up after this edition of the paper and somehow, he had to get through Easter with Tressa, writing about bonnets and egg hunts and chocolate displays at the bakery. Easter was so sweet it made his teeth stand on edge; and all for a God he didn’t believe in.
Remi was quiet as they drove home.
‘You okay?’ Dan asked him.
‘I don’t know, I think I am. At least people will know now. I cannot live my life here in hiding, running away from what happened. Port Lowdy is nice and Marcel is kind but it is not where I can be forever. I want something, someone to be with and they aren’t there.’
‘You mean Juliet?’
‘I don’t know. She would have a boyfriend now, maybe a husband,’ said Remi. ‘Maybe even kids.’
Dan was silent.
Remi spoke. ‘I just don’t want to be alone all my life; life is meant to be shared. Everything is meant to be shared. Food, laughter, problems, love.’
Dan drove, looking ahead as the Cornish coast passed him by. He’d had that with Tressa, and then he didn’t. She had been unfair to him and he hadn’t trusted her. Perhaps they were just for a moment, not forever – but why did he miss her so much?
He’d left Richie there so he had an excuse to keep in contact, but that wasn’t enough of a reason. Why couldn’t he talk to her and tell her why he was the way he was?
They drove around the esplanade and he glanced at Mermaid Terrace but it was quiet and the front door was closed.
‘You need to speak to her.’
‘I know,’ he said. ‘Soon.’
As the village came into view, he saw a crowd of people standing around a mangled pink bike. Penny was holding Richie’s leash. Richie was sitting on the footpath looking bereft.
In the distance an ambulance was driving away, with lights and sirens on.
Dan slammed on the brakes and, not bothering to park, just jumped from the car, the engine still running, and ran towards Penny.
‘What happened? Where’s Tressa?’
Penny’s
eyes filled with tears, and she reached out and touched Dan’s arm.
‘She came off her bike. Richie jumped at some birds apparently and she went over the handlebars and right into the path of an oncoming car.’
‘Oh my God, oh my God,’ said Dan. Penny kept her hand on his arm but he couldn’t feel her.
‘She’s knocked unconscious and she has done something to her arm; that’s all I know. They’re taking her to St Ives.’
Dan thought he might be sick. Or start crying. Or both. He looked at Richie, who put his head down on his paws. He knew what he had done. There was nothing Dan could say right now to assuage Richie’s or his own guilt. Or the horror. If he hadn’t left Richie with Tressa, this wouldn’t have happened.
‘Can you take him? I have to go to St Ives.’
Penny nodded. ‘Of course. Maybe call her mum and dad also. I have their number – I’ll text it to you.’
Penny told him where the hospital was and how to get there. ‘You need to drive slowly. We don’t need two accidents.’
Remi was by his side. ‘I will drive,’ he said. ‘It’s okay.’
‘Do you even have a licence?’ Dan asked and then he threw his hands up. ‘I don’t care, just get me there.’
They ran back to the car and Remi got into the driver’s seat.
‘You make the calls and I will drive and chase the ambulance,’ said Remi.
As they drove carefully around the accident scene, Dan saw a tall, older man picking up Tressa’s bicycle. He was talking to Penny, and he wondered briefly who it was.
Tressa, oh Tressa. He needed to call her parents. He needed to tell George. Most of all he needed her to be all right.
36
Richie was quiet on the walk back to the post office, ignoring the seagulls on the wall and occasionally glancing at Paul carrying the broken bicycle.
‘He knows what he’s done,’ said Penny to Paul as they walked back to the post office.
‘He does look pretty guilty,’ answered Paul.
They had been going for a walk, after Penny stopped by the pub. They went to the bakery and ate warm slices of quiche and drank coffee under the apple trees in the garden. They talked easily about everything.
Tegan had been down again with Primmy, who adored him. But Paul said he would be returning soon to Brisbane. Penny didn’t know what to say to him.
She didn’t want him to go but she also saw there was no reason for him to stay. He had met Tegan and Primmy; he had offered for them to come to Brisbane and meet his children. He said he would be back again but when? Just to visit his daughter and granddaughter, or to see Penny?
She didn’t know where she stood with Paul and she wasn’t sure where he stood with her. When they’d set out on that walk she was on the point of asking. Her stomach was nervous as they walked and then Tressa went flying into the path of a tourist’s rental car and everything else was forgotten.
Paul stayed calm, which made Penny feel calm too. He told her to stay with Tressa and call the ambulance while he ran after Richie. The last thing they needed was Richie to run onto the road and get hit also.
Even though Tressa was wearing a bicycle helmet, she was out cold and there was a bone sticking out of her forearm. Blood ran from the wound.
‘You’re okay, Tressa,’ she said gently to the girl but Tressa didn’t respond and the driver of the car was pacing and kept asking if she was dead.
‘Not dead but a little broken,’ she said.
Tressa’s eyelids fluttered.
‘Tressa,’ she said, ‘open your eyes. It’s Penny. You fell off your bike.’
But Tressa’s eyes didn’t open and Penny called for the ambulance again. She was told one was on its way.
When the ambulance arrived, they pushed Penny out of the way, so she stood by Paul’s side and watched, her heart beating fast as she felt sick for Tressa. They took off her helmet with infinite care and put a neck brace on. Even when they put her arm in a cast she didn’t flinch, and Penny knew that was a bad sign.
‘Oh it’s awful,’ she said to Paul, her voice breaking. ‘She is so loved. Tressa really is Port Lowdy. She’s just the most wonderful person.’
Paul reached down to take her hand, and he squeezed it. She hung on to him for dear life as the team loaded Tressa up into the ambulance.
‘Where are you taking her?’ she asked the paramedics.
‘St Ives General,’ they said and as they drove away, Dan came up the road.
Penny didn’t think she had ever seen anyone so distressed as Dan in that moment when she explained what had happened. And when Remi drove away with Dan in the direction of the ambulance, she had wept a little for the love between Dan and Tressa and the hope they would not lose it as she and Paul had.
The post office came into view and Paul stopped.
‘Penny, I think we need to talk about a few things.’
Now the moment of truth was here and Penny found she didn’t want to hear what he had to say.
‘Can it wait until we get upstairs and I make some tea?’ She was stalling for time now. Richie stood patiently beside her. Paul rested the bicycle on the path.
‘I have to go back to Brisbane,’ he said.
‘When?’
‘In two days.’
Penny was silent.
‘But I want you to come with me.’
‘Come with you? Why?’
She couldn’t process what he was saying.
Paul sighed. ‘Because I love you. I have always loved you. I loved my wife too but now I see you again, I realised I don’t want to be without you. You’re still that beautiful girl with the gold crab claw crown that I fell in love with, and our daughter and Primmy are the icing on that cake. But I have a life in Brisbane and I want you to see it. Meet my children and see my home.’
Penny was silent, trying to think, as the tourists passed on the street, eating ice creams and laughing.
‘Brisbane?’ she asked. ‘But what about the post office?’
‘I don’t know. We can sort something out, surely?’
Penny looked at Paul. His hair was almost gone and his skin was sun-damaged, but his eyes were still bright blue and he still threw his head back when he laughed, and his hand in hers felt like she had come home to herself again.
‘And in what capacity would I come to Brisbane? Your ex fling who had your baby and who you never followed up with?’
‘That’s not fair,’ he said. ‘I did try and contact you; I wrote letters.’
‘Did you? I haven’t seen them. My parents never spoke about them. How do I even know that you tried to contact me?’
Paul looked at her for a long time. ‘All I can give you is my word.’
‘Like you did twenty-seven years ago.’
Paul turned and began walking on, towards the post office. ‘I suppose that’s a bad idea to you,’ he said quietly, and Penny and Richie followed him.
All her life she had wanted to leave Port Lowdy and now she had the chance to go to Australia and she was stopping herself. She hated that she couldn’t say why she was afraid.
At the post office Paul took the bicycle to the back of the garden and then walked back round to the road.
‘Will I see you again before I go?’ he asked as Penny let Richie off the leash into the garden and then closed the gate.
‘If you want to,’ she said.
‘I want to see you every day, all the time, but I can understand your distrust of me and if I could change it I would. But I can’t. And if I changed what happened, I wouldn’t have my children at home, whom I love dearly.’
Penny knew he was right. But she couldn’t let go of the past to allow herself to move forward. ‘I understand, Paul. But I have been alone for so long, I don’t know what you want or need or even why you’re really here. Twenty-seven years is a long time to not be in contact. It’s a long time being lonely and afraid.’
His eyes brightened with tears. ‘I’m so sorry, Penny. I can’t convince you
to go with me, and I can’t convince you of anything except I love you. I love being with you again and seeing your kindness and your concern for others. That incredible daughter you raised alone. That is… it’s amazing. I’m in awe of you. You run a business, you support so many in this place and I wonder if anyone supports you the way I want to. The way I could if you let me.’
Penny felt tears forming but she didn’t want him to see her cry. She had never felt more seen in her life.
When she looked at Paul, he had tears on his cheeks. ‘I just love you, Penny Stanhope. Always have, always will.’
And he wiped the tears away and walked down the road towards the Black Swan, his broad shoulders slumped and his head down.
37
‘Wendy? Dan Byrne,’ Dan barked on the phone when Wendy answered the number Penny had forwarded to him.
‘Hello, Dan,’ said Wendy in a cool and formal tone. ‘I have no idea why you’re ringing me but you should know Tressa threw me out of her house and used very strong language about a quiche that I did not appreciate hearing, so if you’re trying to broker peace between us you can’t.’
‘I don’t give a fuck about your quiche, Wendy. Tressa’s been hit by a car. She’s on her way to St Ives. Can you meet me there?’
‘Oh my God, is all right?’
‘I don’t know, Wendy. That’s why I’m asking you to meet me there. They said she was unconscious,’ Dan said, trying not to scream at her. God she was the most self-righteous woman and her bloody daughter was unconscious.
‘I will meet you there.’ Her tone had changed, and she hung up immediately.
Dan rang George who, thankfully, answered.
‘Tressie’s been hit by a car. I am going to the hospital now so I will let you know what happens.’
‘What? Jesus. Do you want me to come?’ George asked.
‘No, Wendy and David are heading there and I will be there in an hour.’
‘What’s her condition?’
‘Penny said she’s broken her arm and hit her head. That’s all I know.’ Dan looked at his phone. ‘Wendy is calling. I have to go. I’ll call as soon as I know anything.’