The Girl on the Cliff (28 page)

‘Marry you? Matt, are you serious?’

Matt had tickled her. ‘No, I thought I’d say it for a joke. Grania, of course I’m serious!’

‘I see …’ she’d breathed. ‘Well now, that’s a shocker, to be sure.’

‘Why the hell is it so shocking?’ Matt had raised an eyebrow. ‘We’re way past the age of consent; I love you, and I think you love me. It’s a natural progression, isn’t it? What normal human beings
do
, under these circumstances?’

Grania’s eyes had darkened, and she’d seemed close to
tears. It was not the reaction Matt had either expected or wanted.

‘Honey, I didn’t mean to upset you. What have I done wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ she’d whispered. ‘It’s just, that I can’t … no, I can’t ever marry you, Matt.’

‘I see. Can I ask you why?’

Grania had buried her face in her pillow and had shaken her head. ‘It’s not that I don’t love you, because I do,’ she’d said in a muffled voice. ‘But I can’t play at being Mrs Matthew Connelly. Your parents and friends would be horrified, Matt, whatever you think. I know they would. And I’d spend the rest of my life feeling guilty, with everyone looking at me as though I was some kind of gold-digger. Besides, I’d lose my own identity.’

‘Grania, honey,’ Matt had sighed, ‘I don’t get why you care so much about what other people think! This isn’t about them, it’s about us! And what makes
us
happy. And it would make me real happy if you would say yes to being my wife. Unless, of course, all this is just an excuse to try and hide the fact you don’t love me.’

‘Don’t be an eejit, Matt! You know it’s not that.’ Grania had sat up and swept a hand through her tangled hair. ‘It’s my pride, Matt. It’s big in me and it always has been. I couldn’t bear for even one person to look at me and think I was marrying you for the wrong reasons.’

‘And that’s more important than doing the right thing for us?’

‘You know me, sweetheart, when I’ve got one on me; nothing can shift me. Listen,’ Grania had reached for his hands and held them, ‘if you’re saying you want to spend
the rest of your life with me, and live with me, then yes. It’s what I’d be wanting too. Can’t we do that bit, Matt? Without the ring and the surname and everything?’

‘You mean, live together?’

‘Yes.’ Grania had smiled at Matt’s shocked expression. ‘People do these days, you know. Besides, I don’t know the legalities here, but after a few years I’d probably be regarded as your common-law wife anyway. Matt,’ she’d squeezed his hands and looked at him earnestly, ‘do you think we really need a piece of paper to show the world we love each other? Wouldn’t it say more about us if we were together and we didn’t need it?’

Despite Matt’s serious efforts to turn the conventions of his upbringing on their head to be with the woman he loved, this had been a tough one for him. He’d never considered the possibility of living with someone, always assumed he’d follow his parents and his friends into a traditional marriage.

‘I …’ he’d shaken his head, ‘I need to figure it out for a while.’

‘I understand.’ Grania had lowered her eyes. ‘I mean, I’d be happy to wear your ring if you wanted to buy me one, that is. Or we could go to Tiffany’s, like Audrey Hepburn does in
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
, and get them to inscribe a can-pull!’

‘And what about when the kids come along?’ he’d asked nervously.

‘Jaysus!’ Grania had smiled. ‘We’ve just begun to think about merging our few sticks of furniture. I don’t think I can look that far ahead.’

‘Yeah, sure. But if I’m even gonna consider this, Grania,
I’d have to know that it would be something we talked about when the time came. I’m doing my best here, honey, but the thought of my kids being technically illegitimate and not even legally taking my name is one too far for me just now.’

‘Well now, I’m up for a compromise. If you’re prepared to live in sin with me to begin with, then I’m prepared to talk about marriage if and when the babies come along.’

Matt was silent for a moment, then he’d chuckled and kissed her nose affectionately. ‘Lady, you are a romantic poet’s dream. OK, if that’s the way you want it, we have a deal. And no,’ he’d eyed her, ‘I’m not shaking on it. I know a far better way to seal it than that.’

So, in order to safeguard his relationship with his fiercely proud, independent, frustrating yet exhilarating, and always surprising love, Matt had compromised all his principles and moved in with Grania. He’d bought her a ring from Tiffany’s, as requested, and she’d worn it proudly. When they saw the ring, his parents had only one question. And that was when the two of them would name the day.

That day had never come.

Now, here Matt was, eight years on, with nothing more on paper than he’d had that day in Florence. He’d found himself almost wishing for the pain of a messy divorce; at least it would give credence to the magnitude of what was ending. The two of them had never even shared a bank account. There was almost nothing to separate. All that had held the two of them together had been a mutual wish to be so. Matt went to the window and stared out of
it. Perhaps he should just accept what Grania had made so very clear to him and move on. However, not knowing exactly what it was he’d
done
made that difficult. But if she wasn’t prepared to tell him, or even discuss it, what could he do?

‘Hi, hon, good day?’ Charley closed the door behind her, walked over and gave him a hug from behind.

‘Hey, you know …’ Matt shrugged.

‘Feeling blue? Oh, Matty, it’s been weeks now, and it’s real hard to see you put yourself through this.’

‘Yeah, well, just the way things are, I guess.’ He moved out of her embrace and went to the kitchen to find himself a beer. ‘Drink?’

‘Why not?’ Charley flopped on to the sofa. ‘I’m bushed.’

‘Hard day at the office?’ Matt asked conversationally as he pulled the cap off his beer and poured her a glass of Chardonnay from the fridge.

‘Yeah,’ she smiled, ‘this girl could sure use a party.’

‘So could this guy.’

Charley sat up and took a sip of her wine. ‘Well then, let’s do just that and go out and get ourselves one! I could call round some of the old gang – they’d all be real pleased to see you. What about it?’

‘I don’t know whether I’m in a party mood,’ Matt shrugged.

‘Well, no harm in finding out, is there?’ Charley had whipped her cell phone out and was already dialling. ‘If you can’t do it for you, do it for your flatmate, whose ears you’ve chewed off with your misery for the past few weeks. Hey, Al!’ she said into her cell phone. ‘Got any plans for tonight?’

An hour and a half later, Matt was sitting in a smart bar uptown, which he hadn’t frequented for years, with a bunch of his old friends. Charley had bullied him into pulling out his blazer and chinos. His life with Grania was spent in jeans and T-shirt, and an old tweed jacket Grania had found him at a flea market, which she’d said made him look ‘professor-like’ for his work.

Champagne was ordered and Matt was gratified that the guys seemed so pleased to see him. As he sipped the champagne, Matt realised he hadn’t been out singularly with them for eight years. None of them had so far settled down, and their lives as glossy, successful people had remained unchanged. As he set to on his second glass of champagne, he felt as though he was in a time warp, but it wasn’t an unpleasant one. Grania’s presence in his life had forced him to back away, and he’d been happy to do so because of his love for her. But Grania was no longer here …

After three bottles of champagne, the six of them went on to a newly-opened Japanese restaurant and had an uproarious dinner, consuming far more wine than they should and talking of times past. After the solitariness and misery of the last few weeks, Matt felt light-headed with alcohol and the pleasure of being with old friends he had known since childhood.

It was two in the morning before they left the restaurant. Unsteadily, Matt hailed a cab to take him and Charley home.

‘Great to see you, old pal.’ Al slapped him on the back. ‘Guess we might be seeing more of you in the future.’

‘Maybe,’ acknowledged Matt, following Charley into the back of the cab.

‘Come up to Nantucket for a few days at Easter. Mom and Pop would love to see ya, kiddo.’

‘Sure, Al. You take care of yourself real well,’ Matt slurred happily. As the cab pulled off from the sidewalk, he closed his eyes. His head was doing that thing it used to do in sophomore year; spinning like a plate on a stick inside his skull. He lolled it to one side to see if it might feel better and found it on Charley’s shoulder. He felt fingers brush against his hair, threading it gently. The space felt familiar and comforting.

‘Did you have a good time, hon?’

‘Yeah,’ Matt muttered, feeling sick.

‘Told you it would do you good to see the gang. We still love you.’

Matt felt the fluttering of soft lips against his scalp.

The following morning, Matt woke with a blinding headache. He lay and stared at the ceiling. He couldn’t remember paying for the taxi, coming up in the lift, or getting into bed. Matt shifted his position to find some comfort for his thumping headache.

As his vision cleared and he saw with horror that he wasn’t alone, he also could not remember how Charley had ended up in bed next to him.

Grania was trying to coax Aurora into eating a fresh mackerel Shane had caught and given to her to cook for their supper, when the phone rang. ‘Hello?’ she asked, licking her fingers clean from the fresh, salty taste of the fish she’d been prising into Aurora’s mouth.

‘Is that Grania?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s Alexander Devonshire here.’

‘Hello, Alexander.’ Grania put the receiver between cheek and chin, and responded to Aurora’s mouthed ‘Is that Daddy?’ with a mouthed ‘Yes’ in return.

‘How is Aurora?’

‘Extremely well, I’d say.’

‘Good. I’d obviously like to speak to her, but I also wanted to let you know I’ll be home on Saturday.’

‘I’m sure she’ll be thrilled. She’s missed you.’

Aurora nodded vehemently in response.

‘And I’ve missed her. Everything else OK?’

‘We’re doing just fine, I promise.’

‘Good, good.’

The conversation felt as if it was dwindling, so Grania said, ‘Would you like to speak to her now? I’m sure she’s got lots to tell you.’

‘I’d love to. I’ll see you on Saturday, Grania.’

‘Yes. Here’s Aurora.’

Grania passed the phone to Aurora and discreetly left the room. She knew stories of puppies and ballet lessons would be forthcoming, and she went upstairs to run a bath for Aurora.

As she sat on the edge of the bath watching it fill, she realised Alexander’s imminent return was a call to arms to make some decisions.

Aurora and Grania spent much of their last few days before Alexander returned down at Dunworley Farmhouse. A relationship had sprung up between Aurora and the Ryan family. As her father had said, she was a grand little girl. Kathleen, so eager to dislike, was now asking Grania if she could bring Aurora down to the farm before breakfast, so the child could collect the fresh eggs with her. Aurora had subsequently named every chicken in the coop, and been inconsolable when a fox had run riot and eaten Beauty and Giselle.

‘For all the sophisticated Lisle ways, that small one’s a natural with animals. She’d make a wonderful farmer’s wife one day,’ Shane had said one night while Aurora was busy saying goodnight to each of the cows in the shed.

‘And that’s not something you can manufacture,’ added John.

Grania made sure Aurora had a good scrub in the tub on the morning of Alexander’s arrival home. She didn’t want the child smelling of the animals she’d spent so much time with. She thought proudly that Aurora looked as pink and pretty and healthy as it was possible to be. They waited on the window seat in Aurora’s bedroom. When they glimpsed Alexander’s taxi snaking up the hill
towards the house, Grania stayed upstairs as Aurora ran down to greet her father.

Eventually, Grania heard her name being called, and walked downstairs to join them. Aurora was standing in the entrance hall, her face a mixture of pleasure and consternation.

‘Oh, Grania! It’s so wonderful to have Daddy home. But I think he’s been working too hard. He looks very thin and sort of grey. We need to take him on to the beach to give him plenty of fresh air.’ Aurora reached for Grania’s hand as she pulled her towards the kitchen. ‘Come and say hello. I’m trying to make him a cup of tea, but I’m not doing very well.’

As Grania entered the kitchen, she tried not to let shock feature on her face. When Aurora had described her father as thin and grey, to Grania’s eyes, that was a subtle understatement. Alexander looked dreadful. She asked him how his trip had been and finished making the tea that Aurora had begun.

‘I must say,’ said Alexander, ‘Aurora looks healthier than I’ve ever seen her.’

‘Yes, Daddy. I told you London didn’t suit me. I like the countryside. Fresh air is very good for you.’ Aurora turned to Grania. ‘Daddy says I can have Lily when she’s ready to leave her mummy. Isn’t that wonderful?’

‘Yes.’ Grania nodded, turning to Alexander. ‘I’m sorry if it’s not what you want. My family have said that Aurora can come and visit the puppy any time down at their farmhouse, if she would cause too many problems for you living here.’

‘No. I’m sure that somehow we can accommodate, in
this very spacious house, one small puppy. Especially if it makes Aurora happy.’ Alexander looked at his daughter, affection shining out of his eyes.

‘Well now, why don’t I take myself off home?’

Both father and daughter’s faces filled with anxiety at Grania’s suggestion.

‘Don’t go, Grania!’ said Aurora.

‘No, please don’t go yet,’ added Alexander. ‘At least, stay tonight. And perhaps you’d like to take Aurora down to the farm this afternoon. It’s been a long journey home.’

‘Of course,’ agreed Grania, seeing Alexander’s weary expression. ‘Aurora, why don’t we go down there for tea, so that Daddy can have some peace and quiet until later?’

‘That would be most kind, Grania.’ Alexander opened his arms to Aurora. ‘Come here and give your daddy a hug. I missed you, darling.’