I Do Not Sleep (10 page)

He kissed my cheek and left the room, shutting the door behind him with a gentle click.

I lay there for a long time. Tomorrow I could escape. And I would never come back. A chance to leave this sadness, this emptiness, behind me for ever.

I drifted off to sleep. Dreamed that we were packing the car, waving goodbye to Danny, Lola and Edie. The Volvo was out of the lane, heading back to Looe, to Plymouth and the Tamar Bridge. We crossed the estuary, the sun glinting on the water, the boats bobbing bright and sprightly on the tide, and suddenly we were out of Cornwall. We had crossed over into Devon. I would never have to enter the hell where my son had been lost ever again.

And in my dream, just as I smiled with pleasure and relief that I was on my way home, the skies darkened. There was an enormous, terrifying thunderclap, and behind us the River Tamar frothed and rolled. Forked lightning crackled down on our car, the heavens opened and beyond the tumultuous noise I heard an unmistakable voice:
Mother. No. Don’t leave. Find me
.

I woke in panic, convinced that I was on the road leading back to the north. Leaving my boy here behind me in Cornwall, unfound and unburied. And then the familiar room, the four-poster, the drapes, the chintzy armchairs showed me I was still here, still in Coombe, still only a couple of miles from the place where my son had been claimed by the sea.

And I realised I had a job to do.

Maybe I could only regain my peace of mind by being on my own, free of family obligations. Maybe I just needed to concentrate on me, and on Joey. Because it seemed to me that, after these five horrible years, I was the only one still suffering. Everyone else wanted to move on. I was the one stuck, still reliving that apocalyptic Easter when I was told my son had drowned.

Feverishly, I considered my options. I could move out, rent a holiday cottage in Polperro on my own. This was the way I would find peace; I knew it. Yes, that’s what I would do. Tomorrow. I would tell Adam in the morning.

And then I slept; peacefully and dreamlessly, at last.

Chapter Nineteen

I woke up the next morning feeling much better, my high temperature gone. Adam’s side of the bed was empty. I looked at my watch and saw it was nearly ten o’clock. I’d slept through until the fever broke, leaving my head blessedly cool and lucid.

I remembered what I had decided last night. I was going to find a holiday rental in Polperro, and move there on my own. Adam, Danny, Lola and the baby would stay here. I would ask them to leave me alone while I got on with the business of finding out what happened the day Joey disappeared, to finding peace from this torment at last. I would feel much better without the family pressure on me to be happy. I wasn’t, and I was tired of pretending.

Adam pushed open the door with his backside. He was carrying a breakfast tray. I could smell toast, and realised I was ravenously hungry. He smiled at me and put the tray on the bed: tea, orange juice, a boiled egg, toast and marmalade. I fell on it as if I were starving – which of course I was.

Adam beamed as I wolfed it all down. He was so thoughtful I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him. ‘Good girl!’ he said approvingly, as if I was about ten. ‘Now, if you’ll just get ready and pack your things, we can get away right now. With any luck we’ll be in Manchester by suppertime.’

He saw my face fall. ‘Hey, don’t worry, love. I’ve talked to Danny. He and Lola quite understand why we’re going home. Danny said he feels guilty that he so wanted you to come down here. He said he was being selfish. He was so desperate to get back down now he has a proper family and he genuinely thought enough time had passed for you to be happy again.’ Adam paused, and walked over to the window. Quietly, he continued. ‘He’s young, you see, Molly; full of hopes and dreams for the future. Too young to spend the rest of his life mourning for a brother lost so many years ago. Don’t blame him.’

Adam turned to face me. ‘Blame me, love. I’m not young and I should have known better than to put you through this.’ He coughed and turned back to the window. ‘Lola was quite firm with him. Told him to let you go with good grace. He’s got a good one there, Molly. She’s clever and kind. When she said that, she looked quite fierce. I think Danny even quailed a bit.’ He chuckled, then turned to me. ‘So Danny asked me to tell you that you should go home with no worries. He, Lola and Edie will stay on here and they promise you they’ll have a lovely holiday. So, it’s all fixed.’

I stared down the bed, looking at my feet where they had slipped out of the rucked-up quilt I’d disturbed in my feverish sleep.

‘Actually, Adam,’ I said tentatively, ‘I’m not going. I changed my mind.’

He looked confused and worried. ‘But I thought it was all settled. You’ve been in a terrible state. Are you sure you’re not still ill?’

‘No, Adam. I’m sorry to be so inconsistent, and cause you all such worry. But I’m definitely not going back to Manchester. Not yet.’

Adam whistled softly. He sucked in his breath, and gave a weak smile. ‘OK then, that’s great. That’s marvellous. We’ll all stay here and have a good, sunny holiday. Danny will be so happy.’

Now it was my turn to take a deep breath. ‘The thing is, I’m not staying here.’

Adam looked confused. ‘You mean you want us to move somewhere else? Why? It’s perfect here. I thought you loved it.’

‘I do. But I want to rent a place in Polperro.’

He looked thunderstruck. ‘Polperro? For God’s sake, Molly, that’s where —’

I raised my voice. ‘Do you think I don’t know that? That’s why I need to be there. I need to reach him. That’s where he’ll be.’

He was quiet for a moment. ‘But, if you’ve been so unhappy here, away from the sea, how on earth will you feel in Polperro? Every time you look out the window you’ll see the harbour, the place where Joey took his last breaths.’

I tried hard to sound calm, but it was difficult. ‘I KNOW that. That’s the whole POINT.’

There was a long silence. I lifted my head and tried to see Adam’s face. Then I saw comprehension dawn. I watched his expression change, and a small smile creep across his poor, puzzled features.

‘I see. I see, Molly. You want, finally, to come to terms with what’s happened. You feel strong enough to face up to Joey’s death. You’ve realised, at last, that to do that you have to be brave, to confront it. That’s fantastic, love. I’ve been praying for this. We’ll go down to Polperro this morning and find a cottage that’s big enough for all of us. Actually, I walked down to the village the other day and there are still quite a few empty holiday lets. One of them is really pretty, slightly up on the cliff, directly overlooking the harbour. It’s big, too. I’ll call the letting agent right away and ask him —’

I could bear it no longer. ‘No,’ I said, trying to keep my voice firm but reasonable. ‘No, no, no. You don’t understand. I don’t want somewhere that’s big enough for all of us. I need to be on my own. Look, Adam, I can’t do this any more, playing happy families, little games on the beach with Edie, buying ice creams and pizzas, pretending everything’s all right. This is not a holiday, Adam. For me it’s purgatory. It’s best if I stay in Polperro, concentrate on finding out what happened to Joey without any distractions, without feeling I’ve got to be a perfect wife, a perfect mother, a perfect grandmother. Because I’m not, Adam. I’m a wreck. I’m bleeding, I’m torn to shreds; sometimes I feel I’m dying with grief.’ I paused, my throat aching. ‘I should never have come here, Adam. You made me feel I had to do it, for Danny. But I can’t cope with all the memories. My only hope is that I can find out where he is. Please understand. I need to be alone with Joey.’

I was sobbing by now. Andy looked hurt, upset. ‘Molly – I think you’re wrong. I think what you want to do, going off on your own, leaving us all behind, will hurt Danny very much. It’s selfish of you.’ He paused. ‘You’re not the only one who’s lost a son. And your other son has lost his only brother. I can only think you’re having some kind of breakdown. This is all just nonsense.’

He left the room, closing the door firmly behind him. I thought he was right. I was having some kind of breakdown. It had been a long time coming. I had tried so hard not to collapse after Joey’s accident. Five years of half-living. Five years of pretending I could cope, carry on. What was that old wartime adage? Keep calm and carry on? And that is what I’d done. I’d gone back to work the following Autumn term, presenting a tranquil face to the world. I had prepared my girls for A-level, achieving the usual excellent results and a record number of places at Oxbridge. There was praise from Ofsted for the sixth form’s achievements, flattering articles in the more serious newspapers.

To my colleagues I appeared stable and steady. In fact it was surprising how few people remembered what had happened at all. It quickly faded from the minds of even my fellow-teachers, no doubt partly because I never alluded to it myself. I kept myself apart, and I acted a part; that of the noble professional who would not allow her most private emotions to intrude upon her work.

And all the time I acted as if I were a whole, unwounded woman, I was crying inside. The magnitude of Joey’s loss was insufferable to me. One day, I half knew, it would tear me inside out. And here in Cornwall, that day had come.

Chapter Twenty

I stayed in my bed at Coombe, allowing myself to cry properly now Adam had gone. Was I mad? Had my sanity, stretched to breaking point, finally snapped? Was that why I had ‘heard’ my missing son call out to me in a moonlit Cornish garden; why I had thought I would find him at Jamaica Inn, and instead found a bewitched malevolent scarecrow crouched against a broken old fence, which stared at me with evil glittering eyes and began to move. Madness seemed the only logical explanation.

And yes, I found myself blaming Adam and Danny for bringing me back to a place where no woman who had been through what I had should ever have returned. Asking me to come here, selfishly, so they could have a seaside holiday, ‘just like it used to be.’ And blackmailing me emotionally, making me feel I would hurt Danny and Edie if I refused to come.

And look where it had got them. Look what they had to deal with now. A broken wife and mother, a woman driven half out of her mind because of their unforgiveable lack of sensitivity.

My sobs were interrupted by a rap on the bedroom door. It opened slightly and through the crack came a cultured, confident voice. ‘Are you decent, Molly?’

I recognised that assured tone immediately. Dr Torrance, the local GP who had treated me in Polperro five years ago. Despite the horror I associated with that time, Jamie Torrance stirred a small patch of warmth in my wasted heart. He’d been marvellous. An oasis of comfort in a desert of grief, talking to him made me feel a bit better, the only person who could, back then.

I scrubbed my eyes dry with the edge of the sheet. A hopeless task. I knew I looked pathetic, my face blotched and swollen with tears.

‘Yes, I’m decent,’ I croaked. ‘Come in, Jamie.’

And in he walked, tall, broad, and handsome as ever. Even in my vulnerable state, I felt embarrassed by the way I knew I must look. Jamie Torrance was a ridiculously good-looking man, possibly the best-looking doctor in Cornwall. His dirty-blond hair, bleached into streaks of dark gold by the Cornish sun, his eyes as bright and blue as the sea in which he spent all his spare time, and the mahogany tan acquired during the endless hours he spent surfing on his days off, all enveloped him in a kind of shimmering glamour. His surgery was in Looe, and rumour had it that there was always a long queue of eager ladies in his waiting room, excitedly anticipating the ways in which he would make them feel better, although those fantasies, no doubt to their disappointment, remained only in their heads. I bet he was aware of them, though. Back in the days when Adam would stand on the harbour wall skimming stones with Joey and Danny, Queenie and I would watch them from the Blue Peter, giggling about all the women who had a crush on him.

Jamie sat on my bed, and reached for my hand.

‘Hello, Molly. Adam says you’re in a bad way. He called me. I hope you don’t mind.’