Chapter 39
39
Kit’s frame seems softer than before. I’ve never seen him without his messy hair always artfully falling in the right place, but now it’s dark, scalp-short, his skin more weathered, his freckles in the shape of a tick covered by a thick beard. I step over the threshold, the door closing, Lynn’s heavy floral perfume hovering behind me. He’s wary as I approach, but his eyes meet mine, flickering over every facet of my face. My feet stop walking about a metre away from him like I’ve been directed to find a mark on a stage. I stand still. Unable to move any closer to him. So different than last week when I saw him standing in our kitchen singing to ‘Seven Years’, making a bacon sandwich.
He tucks his hand in his pocket, then takes it out again, touching the frame of the doorway.
‘Hi, Liv.’ His voice is hoarser than it was when he left. It’s as though the last seven years have chipped away at him; my own reply remains lodged in my throat. My tongue feels swollen; all the words I need to say sting the inside of my mouth, my throat closing around them.
He glances up, hands not knowing what to do with themselves again. I’ve never seen Kit nervous like this. Nerves in Kit were always bright, a burning energy that pulsed around him. I realise that I’m feeling something like pity for the man in front of me.
‘I’ll make some tea,’ Lynn adds stiffly, striding past.
‘I’ll help,’ Alan murmurs. Kit releases a small smile of gratitude in their direction that doesn’t reach his eyes, but he seems relieved at having something to focus on, other than his ex-girlfriend. The sound of the kettle filling takes over the silence in the hall.
‘Do you want to…’ He trails off, walking into the lounge. His movements are slower than I’m used to, I notice, as I join him. Kit always did everything at speed. He smells different too. His clothes hold a lighter laundry detergent; his deodorant is more spiced.
‘Shall we sit?’ he says politely, gesturing to the sofa. I perch at one end, Kit at the other. ‘It’s good to see you, Liv,’ he says, tears pricking, but not falling. ‘You don’t know how good it is to see you.’
‘It’s good to see you too.’
Such a simple sentence. It’s good to see you. In all the scenarios I had envisioned, saying it’s good to see you to Kit if he ever came home was not something I imagined, but it’s the truth. I’m glad to see him. I’m glad he’s alive, I’m glad he’s home, but all of this is edged with sadness, with regret: for the life we had, the life we lost, the devastation him being back has caused my relationship with James.
Lynn returns with the tea, too much milk, two sugars that I no longer take, but I clasp it in my hands. She hovers by the fireplace.
‘Thanks, Mum,’ he says with a smile. ‘If you could give us a minute? ’
She hesitates, then switches on a tight polite smile. ‘Of course.’
Kit’s hand is still shaking as he lifts his cup to his mouth, wincing as he takes a sip. He places it on the side table, the wood covered in lace, a coaster made of seashells perched on top.
He glances to my hand, my engagement ring catching the light. Does he notice that there is no wedding band above it? His eyes meet mine then look away again. Did he ever imagine that James would leave me if he knew Kit was alive?
‘I don’t know where to start,’ Kit begins. ‘I know there is so much I need to tell you, to apologise for, but…’ He knots his hands together, looking down at them. ‘I don’t know how to even begin to…’
‘So, start at the beginning,’ I say. I want to feel anger at him. I wish I wanted to slap him, to shake him, to scream and tear at his skin, to inflict just a glimmer of the pain that he inflicted on me, but Kit is not the same person I once knew. He looks as though one harsh word would make him crumble.
‘I don’t know how,’ he replies.
‘How about I tell you what I think I know and we take it from there?’ He looks at me. The green eyes that were so light have turned a different shade, more moss green than sea glass now, as though each year we’ve been apart has darkened the pigment.
I picture the man folded on the steps of the races, the man who told me how his addiction started, how it had taken over his life, the lies, the deceit.
‘You are a gambler?’
‘Was,’ he interrupts. ‘I was a gambler.’ There is flash there, a spark of the strength that the man in front of me used to hold.
I hold the fact tightly. It was real.
‘I know you were a gambler; I know that you owed money to a loan shark, that you owed money to Rebecca. I know you didn’t plan to fake your own death until the day you left, but that you did.’
He nods. Kit doesn’t ask me how I know this… Did he tell James?
I reach for Kit’s hand, holding it in mine, turning it over just like the morning I found myself back in 2016; the small silver scar from the pasta jar a gossamer-fine line of silver tethering this man in front of me to the man I lost. ‘Why did you do it, Kit? We could have helped you.’ I meet his eyes.
‘I was beyond help, Liv. I was desperate.’
I listen as Kit tells me the same story as he did the night before he left – the night that never existed. I wait for him to tell me about borrowing more money, this faceless man Kane had said he would put him in touch with. ‘He got to Mum. Kane. He got to Mum.’ He meets my eyes, a whole story explained in one look.
‘What?’
I rush back through the past: Lynn’s sprained ankle, the fall she’d had the day before he went missing. Some daft idiot not looking where he was going, she’d said in explanation. At the time, my mind was consumed with Kit’s accident instead.
‘He went after Lynn?’
Kit nods. ‘The day I hit rock bottom, I came here. I’d lost big at the races and I knew I needed help. I was too ashamed to come to you, so I came here. When I got here, Mum was on crutches. She had no idea who it was who had knocked her over but there was something about the way she described him that made my blood run cold.’ Kit looks to the window. ‘He was parked across the road from here, waiting for me when I left.’ Kit turns to me. ‘He said you would be next. Showed me pictures of you going to work, out on a run. I had no other choice, Liv. It was the only way I could keep you safe. I had to take myself out of the picture. ’
I stack the events of both nights against each other. In my version, I stopped him coming here. I’d taken him home from the races earlier in the day. He didn’t leave the flat until the following morning.
My skin pricks at the thought of Kane hiding in the shadows, watching Kit from outside this house, watching me go about my day-to-day life without my knowledge. I wrap my arms around my torso as if I can protect my body from the past.
‘I’m so sorry.’ His eyes are etched with regret, with fear. ‘I had no idea things would go that far.’
I’m quiet, pushing away the images of myself being followed on my way to work, to the supermarket, on my bike with my earphones in. If I let myself go too far into those memories, the void over my doorstep will return and all the progress I’ve made will be for nothing. I take a deep breath.
‘So…’ I exhale long and hard. ‘Where did you go?’
He rubs his hands together as if he’s trying to bring back some circulation. ‘I hid at first. Not far from where I was last spotted. Waited for it to get dark so I wouldn’t be seen climbing back up, then moved on. There is a cave. You can’t reach it by shore and access to the drop is way off the beaten track.’
The crack between the rocks; abseiling with him next to me, the cave, the pool.
‘How long did you stay there?’
‘Five days.’
‘Five days?’ I gasp, trying to imagine him there, in the cold, the dark.
‘I figured search and rescue would be done by then, and I’d made sure that I’d been seen further up the coast. I’d packed enough to keep myself warm and fed. I changed my clothes, shaved my head and then, on the fifth day, I waited until dark, climbed back up and followed the coast. I threw my backpack into the sea and caught a late train out. I always went on small journeys, small stations, no ticket barriers, hid in the toilets at the station until I could get on unnoticed. Waited in the loo when the ticket guy came around.’
‘Then where?’
‘Then, everywhere.’ He rubs his beard. ‘I bounced from train to train, got off at small stations, waited for the next train or bus, walked for hours. I had no plan, figured it would be better if I just went with the flow.’
The plan is to have no plan; let’s go with the flow.
‘You just went with the flow?’ I can’t help the edge of anger in my voice. ‘While I was searching for you? While search and rescue were out looking for you? While some psychopath was hiding in the shadows? While me, James and your family were going through hell, you were just going with the flow?’
He can’t meet my eyes; he just nods his head.
‘I bought a tent with the last of my money and just existed. Lived off cheap cans of food. Time stretched on.’ He glances back up. ‘I don’t know how long I was like that; the days just merged into each other. Every morning I packed up and moved on, place to place, pitching the tent wherever I could, eating what I could find.’
‘For seven years?’
He shakes his head. ‘No. That was just at the beginning.’
‘Didn’t you ever think about coming home, or letting us know you were alive?’
He pulls at his earlobe. ‘I knew you wouldn’t stop searching for me.’ He reaches for my hand. His skin feels cold against my own. ‘I had to make it convincing.’ He squeezes my palm. ‘I had to leave enough evidence for you all to believe I was really dead.’
I nod, my throat thick with all the things I want to say.
‘So how come you’re back now?’ I say, pulling my hand free .
‘Kane, the guy I borrowed from? He’s just been sent down for murder as well as other things. Life sentence.’ I let out a long breath as Kit rushes on. ‘I… I don’t expect anything from you, Liv or James. I don’t expect forgiveness; I don’t expect anything. I just needed to see you, to see you both, to give you, God, I hate this word, but closure. I wanted you both to be able to move on knowing the truth.’
I sit still, picturing Kit in his tent. How lonely and scared he must have been. ‘I’m glad you found each other.’ He smiles. ‘You and James. Genuinely.’ He looks to the door. ‘I’m guessing he was too pissed at me to come over?’
‘James has left, Kit.’ The words trip out from behind my teeth, tears filling my eyes.
‘What?’ His head jerks up.
‘James. He left. Before we got married.’
His eyes widen. He looks wild, lost, his head shaking, his mouth drawn into a tight line.
‘No… that’s not… I came home as soon as I knew Kane was sentenced. I couldn’t come home before that; it wouldn’t be safe for you. I wanted you both to finally know the truth. I wanted you to be happy.’
‘We were happy.’
‘It’s my fault?’ I don’t reply, but it’s not his fault, not really. ‘I shouldn’t have come.’ Kit shakes his head, angry with himself. ‘I should have waited until after. I just thought… I wanted you to both know I was happy for you. And once the news broke, once I knew Kane was gone for good… I’m sorry, Liv, I should have waited. I’m so, so sorry.’
I’m angry then. It spits and rolls beneath my skin. This is classic Kit, thinking he has all the answers: that optimism in him that means he believes everything will turn out the way he wants it to .
‘For which part, Kit? For lying to me? For leaving me? What is it that you’re sorry for?’
‘All of it. I’m sorry for all of it. I never meant to come between you and James. I just wanted to tell him I was glad you’d found each other. I needed to give you the necklace.’
‘Do you think I care about a necklace? I cared about you!’
He nods, knuckles rolling against the inside of his palm.
‘I swore I would get it back to you. It took some time to track it back down again. I’d kept my eye out for it online, emailed the shop owner. Finally I found it on eBay of all places.’ He gives me a smile that drops when he sees my expression. ‘I wanted to give you both my…’ His hands gesture around him as though he can catch the right word.
‘Blessing?’
‘Yes, no… I wanted James to be able to start your marriage without my ghost hanging around in the background. I wanted him to know that I was happy for him, for you both, that you got to have each other.’
‘And me? You didn’t think you should come to me too? Me? I loved you, Kit, I loved you with every part of me. I grieved you, mourned you. Losing you almost destroyed me. Do you know what seeing you has done to James? It made him run away from everything we had.’
‘But why would he call it off? James loves you. He’s always loved you.’ He meets my eye with a sad smile. ‘I knew, Liv. Deep down. The way he felt about you.’ His words are banging at my skull from the inside, trying to force their way out. ‘It was James who swam you back?—’
‘I know.’ I look up at him, scanning his face, the sad defeated smile. ‘You’re not the person I thought you were, Kit. Why did you let me think it was you?’
‘I wanted to be the man that you thought I was. ’
‘But you weren’t. James was.’
He nods. ‘I know. But then, when I could see you felt the same attraction to me as I did for you, I tried to pretend I didn’t know the way he felt about you. I lied to myself so much I believed it.’
‘You should have told me the truth.’
‘I know. I’ve always known that he’s the one you should have been with. Not me. Not the man who lied and fucked off for seven years, leaving you thinking he was dead. I’m sorry. I know I should have told you; I should have?—’
‘Stop saying you’re sorry!’
‘Sor…’ He closes his mouth, takes a deep breath. ‘It was the only way I could leave you, knowing how James felt. I knew you’d be safe, loved. I knew James would take care of you, that you wouldn’t have to be alone. You were better off without me, no matter how much it hurt to leave you. You were safer without me in the picture.’
‘Safer? By leaving me with a loan shark lurking about. He ran you off the road, Kit.’
‘How do you know that?’
I shake my head, the thoughts cloudy, confused. Here and there, past and present.
‘It doesn’t matter how I know. And what about Rebecca?’
He frowns. ‘I’m going to repay her. I’ve been putting money aside, bit by bit, for the last three years. People still need websites building and PayPal is great when you don’t have a bank account. It’s not all of it, but I hope it’ll be of some help. That’s why I’m back, to make amends, to repair as much of the damage I’ve caused before…’
‘Before what?’
‘Before I turn myself in. Before I go to the police.’ His shoulders straighten, like even saying the words physically lifts the weight from his shoulders .
‘Turn yourself in?’
‘I can’t keep living a lie, Liv.’
I hear the sound of metal on metal, a door with bars slamming shut on him.
‘Will you be sent to prison?’
‘I don’t know. I mean, I haven’t paid any tax for seven years for starters and, well… there’s wasting police time, the thousands spent on search and rescue…’ He trails off. ‘Mum and Dad have called a solicitor so I’ll know more after I’ve spoken with her.’
He stands, walks over to the window, pulls back the curtain and looks out. ‘I’ve spent so long pretending I don’t exist, looking over my shoulder. You have no idea what it’s like to not be able to make a mark, to spend every day pretending to be someone you’re not. To meet… people who you care about only to have to move on because they are getting too close. I know I’m not dead, but Kit Palmer isn’t alive either. I’m a ghost, unable to put down roots, to touch someone and feel like they know me, through and through to my core. To be loved.’
His words settle in the room, tenderness in them.
‘You met someone,’ I reply. The information he’s giving me positions itself. He turns to me, meets my eyes, tears behind them.
‘Aria.’
Aria. I want to hate this woman, but all I feel is a deep sense of sadness. For him. For her.
‘I tried to keep my distance but she’s’ – a flicker of a smile, a light behind his eyes – ‘persistent. It’s the Spanish in her, or so she says.’ The light fades; he returns to the sofa.
‘Does she know, that you’ve come back? What you’re about to do?’
He pauses. ‘She didn’t even know my name. She’d fallen in love with a man called Connor. A man who she thought had no parents, no siblings. An honest man who worked on an old laptop in her dad’s deli, who made them a website for a new delivery service, who had been eating their sandwiches for the past year. A man who was once in the army, who didn’t like to talk about his time on tour, his past.’
‘Connor?’
‘I had to choose a name that meant something to me, that I would turn my head to. It’s James’s?—’
‘Birth father. I know.’
I try to imagine this version of Kit, this Connor, eating sandwiches, the olive-skinned beauty who wouldn’t take no for an answer.
‘And now?’
‘Now she knows the truth. She knows what I did, what I did to you, to everyone.’
‘And she wants you to turn yourself in?’
‘No. She wants to carry on as we have been. Says it doesn’t matter. But how can I? I can’t do that to her. There would be no future for us both, no wedding, no family, no mortgage… I can’t even have a proper job. She says she doesn’t care about any of it.’
‘And she knows what you’re about to do?’
‘Yes.’
I feel a splinter of jealousy then, that he told her the truth, that he’s not leaving her wondering if he’s alive or dead, but the spite instantly calms. She doesn’t deserve this – none of us do.
‘You have to believe me, Liv. I never meant to come between you… I just wanted James to have closure, to know that I wanted him to marry you. He deserved the truth.’
‘And me? You almost destroyed my life, Kit. I only got through it because?—’
‘You had James.’ He smiles then. It’s sincere like everything he had planned had worked out for the best .
‘Not any more,’ I say. I lift the tea to my mouth but it’s too sweet. I cradle it in my hands instead.
‘Where did he go?’ Kit asks, calmly. ‘I’ll go and speak to him, put things right.’ He stands as if he’s just going to hop in a taxi, knock on James’s door and fix everything in a five-minute conversation.
‘I have no idea. He’s not answering his phone.’
‘I can help. Help you find him.’
‘ You’ve done more than enough!’ I snap at him. He tucks his hands in the back of his jeans, head bowed, but then seems to gather himself. ‘I know. But let me help. I know places he used to go when we were kids, old friends…’
‘James doesn’t want to be found, Kit. He wants space and that’s what I have to give him.’ I push aside the pain and anger and hurt, taking a deep breath and looking at Kit. ‘For what it’s worth… I’m glad you found some happiness. With Aria.’
‘Thank you.’
I think back to the last time I saw him, the broken man, the helplessness, the weight pushing down on him as he told me of his addiction, of the road that led us both to where we are now, the hope that he could change his fate.
‘And I’ll be here for you, when you decide to go to the police.’
His voice breaks, the words struggling to get out. ‘I don’t deserve your help; I can do this alone. I’ve put you through enough.’ Tears roll down his face freely.
‘Oh, Kit.’ I stand, take his face in my hands. ‘You don’t have to do this alone. You never did.’
‘I wish I’d told you.’ He leans his forehead against mine.
‘So do I.’
I hold him tightly then release him, Lynn appearing like an apparition in the doorway. ‘I’ll show you out,’ she says as if she’s lady of the manor and I’ve never visited before. I turn to look at Kit over my shoulder as I step into the hall, my hand holding onto the door frame.
‘Kit?’
He looks over at me, eyes still watery.
‘I never said I love you,’ I say, and he frowns. ‘The day you left. I didn’t say it. I just… I wanted you to know that I did love you.’
‘I know.’ He smiles then, green eyes light and bright, and it feels like a small tear in time where the man I loved in the past is also here in the present. I follow Lynn along the hall, her hand already on the doorknob. I turn to her. I know it’s a long shot, but I’m desperate.
‘Have you heard from James?’ The words rush out of me. She quirks an eyebrow.
‘James?’ The plucked brows dip, eyes landing on my ring finger. She holds a deep breath, fresh disappointment no doubt held in her chest.
‘He left. When he found out Kit was back and I?—’
‘I can’t say I’m surprised,’ she interrupts. ‘Running away is in his blood. I did try to warn you that nothing good would come out of your relationship.’
Running away is in his blood . The sentence hooks itself to my thoughts, snagging on the periphery.
His father.
Would he have gone to find him?
The small nugget of an idea rolls around, gathering momentum, growing and becoming more solid. I place my hands on Lynn’s shoulders. She glances down to her shoulder, face confused.
‘Does James know where his birth father lives?’ Her body locks, her expression cut-glass sharp.
‘No.’
‘Yes,’ Kit says from behind, the blood draining from his mother’ s face. ‘Yes,’ he repeats as he joins us. ‘He went to look him up, years ago, but didn’t go through with meeting him.’ He faces his mother, her skin pale as she lifts her eyes to Kit. ‘He just wanted to know where he lived, Mum.’
Lynn doesn’t reply. She’s stoic, shocked.
‘Where?’ I ask. ‘Where does he live?’ Kit’s eyes are lighting up. Sea glass back from beneath the depths of loss.
‘Scotland,’ Alan interrupts coming out of the kitchen, glasses being wiped with a handkerchief. ‘Connor lives in Scotland, the Highlands.’
Beside me, I hear Lynn’s breath hitch at the mention of his name.
Kit smirks. ‘Now, if I was going to run away… and I’m not saying I’m an expert’ – he winks – ‘but the Highlands is a pretty good place to hide, right? And if I know my brother, he will be having an existential crisis around now and what better way to face your past than tracking down the one man who has been missing from his whole life.’
I bite my bottom lip. ‘It’s a long shot, right?’
‘Yep,’ Kit replies.
‘I mean, I’d be mad to chase him all the way up to Scotland without knowing he’s actually there.’
‘You would,’ Alan intervenes. ‘But that is exactly what you’re going to do.’
‘Do you have an address?’ I turn to Lynn, softening my expression. She looks to Alan, watery eyes being blinked back. There is an unspoken conversation passing between them before she gives a brief, curt nod.
I pull her into my arms, her limbs rigid until she seems to admit defeat, her body relaxing against me.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?’ Kit asks, the peak of his hat pulled down low as he follows me along the path towards my car. Alan is holding a stack of letters with the return address to Rose Farm in his hands.
I shake my head. There’s warmth in the spring air. My flight leaves first thing in the morning and I need to see Mum before I go.
‘No.’ I smile at him. ‘I need to do this by myself.’ I reach into my bag, looking for my keys.
Alan joins Kit at the kerb as I pull them out. He passes the stack of letters all addressed to James. I look up at him, this gentle man who has been missing from our lives. ‘You go and get our boy, Livvy.’ He pulls me into a hug, kissing me on the top of my head.
‘Please don’t do anything rash, OK?’ I suggest to Kit. ‘Just until I bring him home?’
‘I won’t.’
‘Don’t you worry, love. When it’s time, we’ll all go to the police together,’ Alan reassures me.
Kit pulls me fiercely into his chest, arms tight. ‘You can do this, Liv.’ He pulls back, that smile back in place, green eyes crinkling at the edges. ‘Just jump.’
I take one more look at Kit, and hold up my hand in goodbye.
It’s time I find the man I should always have been with.