The Girl on the Cliff (33 page)

‘We’re here!’ called Aurora as she exploded from the car and ran across to open the kitchen door. She launched herself into Kathleen’s arms. ‘Thank you so much for having me to stay, and can Lily sleep on my bed? I promise I’ll give her straight back to her mummy in the morning when she needs more milk.’

‘Now then, we don’t take pups away from their mammys until they’re ready. Neither do we allow dogs upstairs in this house. Except on very special occasions, like maybe your first night here.’ Kathleen touched Aurora’s cheek, and over Aurora’s beautiful Titian curls exchanged a look of resignation with her daughter.

Before teatime, Shane took Aurora off to the top field where the sheep were beginning to lamb.

‘’Tis amazing,’ said Kathleen. ‘I told you that having a Lisle child in the Ryan family’s care was predestined.’

‘Oh, Mam, enough of your tea leaves! And talk of the past,’ added Grania. ‘It’s obvious you adore her.’

‘Yes.’ Kathleen was big enough to admit it. ‘Somehow that child has wound her way into my affection, despite
my best intentions. Your daddy, now he’s a lost cause. I think he’s reliving the past when you were a small one. He’s painted that spare bedroom of ours pink, and even went into Clon to find some dolls for her. You’ve never seen the like of their ugly faces, Grania,’ Kathleen chuckled. ‘But he’s doing his bit, so. And your brother, he’s smitten too,’ she added.

‘You know it’s only temporary, Mam, until Alexander comes back home.’

‘There’s nothing in the Ryan household that’s temporary about Lisle children inhabiting it, you mark my words.’ Kathleen wagged a finger at her daughter. ‘But I will admit, young Aurora has brought new life to all of us.’ Kathleen put the kettle on the range to boil. ‘And I’d probably fight for her tooth and nail if I felt it was in her best interests. So now, I’ve admitted I’m just as bad as the rest of the women in the family when it comes to a Lisle child. But who can knock it, when she makes me smile?’ She turned to face her daughter and crossed her arms. ‘The bigger question is, Grania, what
you
do now. With Aurora here, and safe and happy, at least you’re free to make your own decisions.’

‘Yes, Mam. And I’m grateful for that. I’d like to say I’ve made some, but I’d be lying. Perhaps a few days’ space after all the drama will help.’

‘Yes,’ sighed Kathleen. ‘And that Alexander, even I can see he’s the size of a good-looking fella. The eyes on him …’

‘Mam! Behave yourself,’ smiled Grania.

‘I always have, and that’s to my loss,’ she grinned. ‘A woman can dream, can’t she? Now then, we’ll be having a
grand dinner tonight. I thought I’d lay on something special for our little princess.’

The evening, with Aurora added to the table, took on a life of its own. After supper, John, horrified that Aurora seemed to know none of the old songs of her birthland, took out his banjo and played for all of them. Shane, breaking the habit of a lifetime, did not go to the pub. The five of them danced Irish jigs until Aurora yawned and Grania saw the exhaustion in her eyes.

‘Time to go up to bed now, sweetheart.’

‘Yes,’ she said, almost gratefully.

Grania led Aurora up the narrow staircase and into the newly decorated spare room, put her into her nightdress and tucked her up in bed.

‘I love your family, Grania. I hope I don’t ever have to leave.’ Aurora yawned, her eyes half-closed in contentment.

Before Grania had left the room, Aurora was asleep.

Matt arrived home and put his holdall of clothes in the utility room to launder later. He went into the kitchen to fix himself something to eat. He’d not been back here since the morning after the night he’d got hammered with Charley and the guys. He wandered into the sitting room, relieved that the loft was currently empty, and threw himself on to the sofa. Of course, Charley may well have moved out anyway. Surely, by now, her own apartment must have been redesigned to within an inch of its existence?

Matt blushed at the thought of that last morning he’d spent here, horrified when he’d seen Charley and realised
she was naked next to him. He’d showered and packed his bag with all he’d need for the next couple of weeks, then crept out of his home like an unwanted lover. And the worst part was he’d had no recollection of what he may or may not have done the night before.

Charley hadn’t contacted him since anyway, none of the coy or maybe buddy-buddy conversations that one would expect after they’d spent the night together. He hadn’t contacted her either; what the hell could he say? He needed her to give him a clue first, so he could react appropriately.

Matt heard the key turn in the lock. Charley walked through the door and looked at Matt in surprise.

‘Hi, wasn’t expecting you home.’

‘Really?’ Matt commented nervously. ‘Strangely, I do live here.’

‘Yeah, sure you do,’ she said as she made her way through to the kitchen and got herself a glass of water. She passed back through the sitting room, heading in the direction of her bedroom.

‘You OK?’ Matt called. She was being uncharacteristically silent.

‘Yeah, sure I’m OK. Just real tired.’

That was the last he saw of her that evening or, in fact, any evening in the following week. When they were at home together, Charley would offer monosyllabic answers to his questions, then disappear into her room and not emerge until the following morning. Matt knew she was avoiding him, and understood why, but it was beyond him to know how to fix the problem.

Finally, Matt decided the only thing to do was to tackle
Charley head on. That evening, she came home and walked to the fridge to pour herself a glass of milk.

‘Charley, honey, I really think we should talk.’

Charley paused on her journey across the sitting room towards her bedroom. ‘What about?’

‘I think you know “what about”.’

Charley studied him for a while. ‘What’s there to say? It happened, it was a mistake, it’s obvious you regret it …’

‘Whoah!’ Matt instinctively put his arms out in front of him. ‘Stop right there. I suggest we go catch a bite to eat and talk this through.’

‘OK,’ Charley shrugged, ‘if that’s what you want. I’ll go take a shower.’

An hour later, they were sitting across a table in an Italian restaurant a couple of blocks away. Matt was drinking beer, but Charley had refused alcohol and was on water.

‘You feeling OK? Physically, I mean. Not like you to refuse a glass of wine, Charley,’ Matt smiled, trying to break the tension.

‘I’m not feeling that great just now.’

‘You should go to the doctor and get yourself checked out,’ Matt encouraged.

‘Yup.’ Charley’s eyes were downcast; she was fiddling with her napkin, refusing to make eye contact.

‘Hey, Charley, it’s Matt you’re talking to. I hate it that I’ve obviously done something to upset you.’

Charley remained silent. Matt manfully continued.

‘The problem is, honey, I was out of it that night. This guy must be getting old, he can’t handle the drink the way he used to.’

The weak joke did not elicit a response.

‘Look,’ he tried again, ‘I’ll be honest and tell you that my mind is fuzzy on what actually happened that night, after we got back from the restaurant. I mean, did we … ? Did I … ?’

Matt came to a grinding halt. There was no more he could say until Charley answered him. She raised her eyes to him slowly. He wasn’t sure if they were full of sadness or anger.

‘You don’t … 
remember
?’

‘No,’ Matt blushed, ‘I don’t. I’m real sorry, but it’s better that I’m truthful.’

‘Jeeze,’ Charley sighed, ‘well, that just about caps the whole thing.’

‘What can I say? I’m embarrassed and horrified. I suppose … it’s not as if we haven’t … I mean … been there before.’

‘Oh,’ Charley’s eyes glazed over, ‘so that makes it all right, does it? The fact you jumped me is made “OK” because we’d done it before. Is that what you’re saying to me, Matt?’

‘No, I – shit, Charley!’ Matt ran a hand through his hair distractedly then looked at her. ‘Are you serious?! You say I “jumped” you that night?’

‘Yes, Matt, you did. Or are you accusing me of lying?’

‘Of course not. Goddammit! I can’t believe I could behave like that. I’m sorry, Charley. Real sorry,’ he emphasised.

‘Yeah, well,’ Charley shrugged, ‘not as sorry as I am. Don’t worry, I got with the programme pretty soon after. Whether you remembered or you didn’t, the fact I heard nothing from you in the two weeks afterwards told me all
I needed to know. It’s the gentleman’s job to call the lady, in case you’ve forgotten,’ she added. ‘You used me, Matt. And I don’t think I deserved that.’

‘No, you didn’t,’ Matt agreed, squirming under her cold gaze. ‘I feel a total jerk, and if I were you, I’d doubt I’d want to have anything to do with me again.’

‘The thought has crossed my mind,’ agreed Charley as their pizzas arrived. ‘I mean, if nothing else, I thought we were friends. And you sure shouldn’t treat your worst enemy the way you’ve treated me.’

‘No.’ Matt was struggling to deal with a scenario he could hardly believe he had created. The behaviour Charley described was completely out of character for him, therefore he had few tools at his disposal to defend himself. ‘Charley, I don’t know what to say. Jesus! I hardly know who I am at the moment. Having prided myself on being Mr Nice Guy, maybe one way or another I have to come to terms with the fact I’m not.’

‘No,’ Charley put a tiny piece of pizza in her mouth and chewed it, obviously reluctant to let him off the hook. ‘Just maybe, you’re not. And there’s me listening to you pour out your heart day after day, night after night, about Grania. Trying to be there when you needed me. And how do you treat me in return?’

‘Hey, Charley, I understand why,’ Matt breathed, dazed from her verbal assault, ‘but you sure know how to make a guy feel bad.’

‘I’m sorry, Matt,’ she agreed. ‘But that night, before you jumped me, you were very persuasive.’

‘Was I?’

‘Yeah. For example, you told me you loved me.’

Matt felt he was drowning in a sea of accusations. And yet, they must be true. Why would Charley lie? She simply wasn’t that kind of girl. They’d grown up together – he knew her better than any other female with the exception of Grania. Matt had run out of words to say. He sat silently, regarding her across the table.

‘Look, Matt,’ Charley let out a heavy sigh, ‘I really get that you’re not in a good space at the moment. You were drunk that night and I accept you said and did things you didn’t mean. And I was available and believed what you said, when I shouldn’t have done. So I guess it’s my fault too.’

‘Hell, Charley, it sure isn’t your fault. It’s mine, and I don’t want you to take one iota of blame. If I could press the rewind button, I would. And you’re right, I’m not in a good space right now. But that’s not your problem and I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you. I’m surprised you haven’t moved out, decided never to speak to me again.’

‘I would have done if I could, but the apartment’s taking far longer to get fixed than I thought. Don’t worry, Matt,’ she shrugged sadly, ‘when it’s habitable, I’ll be out of there.’

‘Is this the end of our friendship?’ he asked slowly.

‘I don’t know, Matt,’ she sighed. ‘Now we’ve talked, I need some time to think things through.’

‘Sure.’

‘I need to ask you, Matty, to be real honest with me. When you said … what you said that night before we made love, you didn’t mean it, did you?’

‘You mean that I loved you?’ questioned Matt.

‘Yeah.’

‘I
do
love you, Charley,’ he struggled, ‘you know I do. I wasn’t lying. As I’ve said before, we’ve known each other forever, you’re the sis I’ve never had. But …’ Matt sighed, simply not knowing how to phrase the words he needed to use next.

‘It’s not
that
kind of love,’ Charley prompted.

Matt paused before he spoke. ‘No.’

‘Because you’re still in love with Grania?’

‘Yeah. I guess I am.’

Matt watched as Charley cut another tiny piece of pizza, placed it on her fork and chewed it thoroughly. She swallowed, then immediately stood up. ‘Sorry, Matt, I gotta use the restroom.’

Matt watched as Charley walked as swiftly across the restaurant as her upbringing would allow and disappeared down some steps. He put the pizza to one side, rested his elbows on the table and grazed his cheeks roughly with the palms of his hands. This was a nightmare … How
could
he have done what Charley had reported to him?
He
, a psychologist, aware of the failings of human nature, had himself fallen victim to its weaknesses.

Matt wondered just what was up with him; his entire self-image during his thirty-six years had been built around the knowledge that he was a ‘good guy’. He’d believed he had always treated women with respect, never abused them or taken advantage of them. Valued their strengths and qualities and stayed within the parameters of the background and education he’d been given. Above all, Matt had always tried to act with integrity, and the thought that he hadn’t done so on the night with Charley – one of his closest friends, for Christ’s sake – filled him with self-loathing.

Matt looked towards the steps, but there was still no sign of Charley. At least he’d had the guts to be honest with her and make it clear that there wasn’t a future for them. However much it hurt her, and even if what had happened that night had made their friendship irreparable, Matt knew it had been the right thing to do.

Because …

Whether Matt liked it, or wished it, or wanted it, the painful truth was that he was still in love with Grania.

A pale Charley emerged from the restroom and sat down opposite Matt.

‘You OK?’ Matt frowned. ‘You look real sick.’

‘No,’ Charley shook her head. ‘I’m not “OK”. I’m not OK at all.’

‘Is this me? Have I done this to you?’

‘Yup, I suppose in a way you have.’ Charley looked up at him, tears in her eyes, limpid against the canvas of her pale skin. ‘Because the problem is, Matt, that I’m pregnant.’

Grania had woken up one morning and seen the first buds of wild fuchsia that would eventually turn the hedgerows along the lane into a riot of purple. The sight of them not only heralded the fact that spring was here, with summer hot on its heels, but that she had been in Ireland for almost four months. As she dressed and went down for a hurried breakfast, before driving Aurora to school then heading up to Dunworley House, Grania felt unnerved at the ease with which she had slipped into a routine. And how her everyday life here felt as normal as her previous life in New York. As she unlocked the door to her studio, Grania wondered whether this was partly to do with the fact she was involved in a new project. The feeling was reminiscent of the times she’d spent in her studio in the loft in TriBeCa; those moments when a sculpture had consumed her every waking thought.