23. Clara
23
Clara rushed along the gravel drive towards the manor house, deep in thought. She’d cracked the code last night and knew what had driven Audrey to take such drastic action in 1957.
That should be enough – Audrey could now be consigned to history, as an abused wife who had taken desperate action in a bid to change her life. But had walking into the sea changed her life, or ended it?
Clara suddenly spotted River and Bartie, standing beneath the tallest oak tree in the garden, their heads bent together. Neither of them looked particularly happy but Bartie waved when he spotted her and his face lit up when she hurried over. He seemed really pleased to see her. Clara ran a hand self-consciously through her hair before she reached the two men.
‘Clara, I was hoping I’d see you today,’ said Bartie, his smile even wider.
‘Why?’ Clara asked, feeling herself growing hotter under his intense gaze.
‘Just because.’ He undid the top button on his blindingly white polo shirt. ‘Seeing you cheers up my day. You bring a little sunshine into my life.’
Clara would have basked in the compliment if she hadn’t noticed River glance up at the sun in a cloudless sky and roll his eyes.
‘That’s lovely of you to say,’ she said, not giving River the satisfaction of knowing she’d seen his childish gesture.
‘So why are you here today? Did you want me?’ Bartie asked with a suggestive raise of an eyebrow.
‘I’m heading for the house to help Mum. She’s going through the books, trying to see where household savings can be made.’
‘A waste of time, but admirable,’ Bartie murmured.
‘And I also needed a quick word with River.’
Bartie’s smile became more fixed. ‘Really? If it’s something to do with the house, you’d be better off talking to both of us.’
‘No, it’s not about the house. It’s a personal matter.’
Bartie stared at her, waiting for her to go on, while Clara panicked inside. She really hadn’t thought this through.
‘Um…it’s about Michael, my brother. He’s living in Canada now but he’s planning a visit and is really keen to see River again. So I said I’d sort out a rendezvous. It’s all boring, boring stuff, and I’m sure you’ve got meetings to arrange and…and other things.’
Bartie’s smile was back. ‘It doesn’t sound riveting and I am a busy man, that’s for sure. So I’ll leave you and River to sort out the Michael rendezvous, and I hope to see you later, as planned.’
‘Sure.’
What did he mean by ‘as planned’? Did he mean somewhere more private to continue what they’d started on the picnic rug? Clara felt her cheeks begin to burn.
‘Excellent,’ he said, putting his hand briefly on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze. ‘I’ll catch up with you very soon.’
‘Bartie,’ she called after him, as he walked away. ‘Have you managed to speak to Geoffrey about your idea?’
He looked at her blankly for a moment before understanding dawned in his grey eyes. ‘Oh yes, we had a long chat about it yesterday evening and he’s up for it. So, fingers crossed.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Clara, crossing her own fingers as Bartie wandered off.
‘Do you mean his idea to save your mum’s cottage?’ asked River, leaning against the tree.
‘That’s the one.’
‘Trust good ol’ Bartie to come up with an idea like that and speak to my father about it.’
Was River being sarcastic? It was hard to tell because his face was giving nothing away.
‘Don’t you think it’s a good idea?’ she asked.
River hesitated and then smiled. ‘Yes, of course it is. It’ll be great if you and your mum can stay on in your home. Though the manor will be a building site for a while with lots of noise.’
He looked towards the manor house and sighed. There was an air of melancholy about him this morning.
‘I hate to think of the house being knocked about and I’m sure you do too,’ said Clara. ‘But if there was a way of saving it, I doubt you’d want to take it on in the future, once your father’s, you know…gone.’ Clara kicked herself for being so blunt. ‘You’ll be heading back to Australia for ever as soon as the sale is sorted out, won’t you?’
Clara waited for River’s answer, realising that she cared what his answer would be more than she would ever admit. River was no longer a part of her life, and she still hadn’t forgiven him for his heartless message from Australia. But, she had to admit to herself that there was something comforting about having him around.
‘I wish my father could see out his days here,’ he said after a while, not answering her question at all. ‘That would mean a great deal to him. But once he’s gone, as you so delicately put it, I can’t see myself rattling round in this place, raising money to keep it going. Can you?’
Clara shook her head. River had never been like his father, and his absence only seemed to have amplified their differences.
‘Anyway.’ River pushed himself away from the tree. ‘What was that rubbish you told Bartie about setting up a meeting between me and Michael? I don’t think we ever said more than a couple of words to each other when we were teenagers.’
‘I’m sure he’d like to see you.’
‘Really?’
Clara wrinkled her nose. ‘Probably not. He’s hopeless at keeping up with the local friends he’s got.’
‘Is he even coming over from Canada in the near future?’
‘Nope. I have no idea when we’ll next see him. He pops over occasionally but never stays for long.’
‘So why the subterfuge with Bartie, who is so clearly dazzled by your sunshine vibe?’
Clara hit him playfully on the arm. ‘I saw the eye roll.’
River grinned. ‘Yeah, I thought you might.’
‘The thing is, I wanted to tell you in private that I’ve worked out what the numbers in Audrey’s diary mean.’
River’s mouth fell open. ‘That’s amazing. How did you do it?’
‘I finally realised that the numbers relate to pages and lines in that dictionary Audrey was so interested in and always kept close. Twelve dash five means page twelve, and whichever is the fifth word featured on that page.’
‘That’s clever! No one could crack the code unless they realised the significance of the dictionary and had a copy of it.’
‘Which is probably why she removed it from the library and had it in her bedroom.’
River narrowed his eyes. ‘You could have told Bartie about this.’
‘And have him think that I’m a crazy woman who’s obsessed with dead people?’
‘There is that. Though I notice it’s all right for me to think that about you.’
‘It’s fine because you know the real me already. You know what I’m truly like.’
Bartie’s words at the picnic echoed in Clara’s head: I’m still looking for that one person who gets me for who I truly am.
She and River had known each other inside out as teenagers – weirdness, neuroses, fears and all – and they’d still liked each other and found solace in one another’s company. A wave of sadness for what the two of them had lost washed over Clara.
River leaned closer. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Mmm.’ She nodded. ‘Anyway, do you want to hear what I found out?’
‘Of course I do. What secret was she hiding?’
‘I’m afraid it’s not very pleasant. The coded words reveal that Audrey was physically abused by Edwin and was incredibly lonely. He more or less imprisoned her in the house and it got to a point where she wasn’t even allowed to talk to the staff.’
She paused with a lump in her throat as the injustice of Audrey’s situation fully hit her. The poor woman had a husband who could treat her however he liked, at a time when domestic violence was a ‘behind closed doors’ secret that was rarely discussed, there were no women’s refuges, and women who did speak out were often blamed or shamed.
River massaged his temples as if his head was aching. ‘It’s hard to believe that my grandfather was abusive.’
‘I know, but why would Audrey lie about something like that?’
‘My father spoke about Edwin last night and admitted he wasn’t an easy man to live with, but he never said anything about him being abusive.’
‘People don’t always know, especially if they’re not on the receiving end of any violence. Your dad was only a child, and maybe Audrey was good at hiding what was happening.’
‘Did Edwin hurt her?’ asked River, sounding appalled.
‘He hit her and she had bruises. That’s all she says in the diary, except that he flew into a jealous rage after the ball and put his hands around her throat and promised to kill her.’
Clara blinked, feeling close to tears. She could imagine Audrey’s terror and powerlessness in the face of such aggression.
‘That’s dreadful!’ A deep crease appeared between River’s eyebrows. ‘Is that why she walked into the sea? Was she so frightened of my grandfather, so worn down by him, that she wanted to end it all?’
He sank down onto his haunches as if his legs no longer had the strength to carry him.
Clara stooped down beside him. ‘She wanted to end her life here at Brellasham Manor, but not her life completely.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I also deciphered the note that’s in my grandmother’s handwriting, that was in the back of Audrey’s diary.’
‘Please tell me it said that your grandmother was going to contact the police or get social services involved.’
‘I don’t think it worked like that in those days. I did a bit of research, and domestic abuse in the 1950s was swept under the carpet. There was a stigma attached to it. I know, I know.’ Clara raised her hand as River opened his mouth to protest. ‘It’s awful and wrong, but that’s the way it was back then. There weren’t really laws to protect women or services to help those affected.’
‘So Audrey was on her own.’
‘She was until my gran stepped in. She wasn’t allowed to speak to Audrey by that stage but she must have known about the code and used it to communicate with her. The note says: boat off headland point at seven on Tuesday.’
‘So do you think?—’
‘She walked into the sea, planning to swim to the boat that was waiting for her. And she wrote something strange in her diary that day: Can a flower bloom in the snow? Only time will tell. Does that mean anything to you?’
River racked his brains but nothing came to mind. ‘I’m afraid not, but the big question is, did Audrey make it to the boat?’
‘I have no idea, but we need to find out if Audrey died that night or made good her escape.’
She frowned when River stood up and began pacing, his tall frame casting shadows across the lawn.
‘I can do it myself if you haven’t got the time, but you seem to want to be involved, and I thought you might be interested to find out what really happened.’
River stopped pacing. ‘It’s amazing that you’ve been able to decipher her code, but are you sure this is a good idea? What happened to Audrey is appalling but it was a long time ago and, even if she survived that night, she might still have died years ago.’
‘I know that but I think Audrey’s story deserves to be known, even if only by us. She had no one to tell when she lived here.’
‘Except, it seems, for your grandmother.’
‘Except for Gran,’ said Clara. ‘I only knew her in her later days but she was always a fierce advocate for women’s rights, and she hated injustice. I can see why she would have wanted to help.’
‘She did the right thing, whereas my grandfather…’ River shook his head. ‘It helps me to understand why my father is like he is.’
‘He never hurt you or your mum, did he?’
‘No, not physically, but it sounds as if he was brought up by a hypocrite who drummed into him the importance of repressing his emotions in public while, behind the scenes, he was abusing his wife. That must have damaged him.’
‘Plus’ – Clara cleared her throat – ‘he saw his stepmother walking into the sea that night. He was in the library and he saw her from the window but couldn’t do anything to stop her.’
River blinked. ‘How do you know that?’
‘He told me. I don’t think he meant to but it slipped out while he was talking about her. He was meant to be having dinner with his father but he was excused to read a book because he wasn’t feeling well and that’s when he saw her. That’s what he said, and I know he can be cold, River, but he looked haunted. Which is why I’m waiting for the right moment to give him Audrey’s diary. I’m not sure he’ll want to have it.’
River put his hands on his hips and gazed towards the sea, just visible through the trees.
‘Maybe it’s better to leave all of this, Clara. I’ve got involved but your search is uncovering too many secrets that are probably best left buried. My father wouldn’t want it.’
Clara watched him for a moment, as he bent and brushed away grass that had stuck to the hem of his jeans. As a teenager, he’d have done the opposite of what his father wanted. But people changed. People grew up.
‘What about Audrey?’ she asked. ‘I can see that our search might upset your dad but shouldn’t the truth about what happened to her come out?’
‘No.’ River’s tone was firm and uncompromising. ‘This is my family you’re talking about, and I’m saying definitely not. Sometimes, Clara, you can be a bit too—’ He closed his mouth and started biting his lip.
‘A bit too what?’
‘A bit too stubborn and single-minded without taking into account other people’s feelings.’
‘And of course, you always take other people’s feelings into account,’ Clara shot back, remembering the postcard that had dropped onto her doormat from the other side of the world. The abrupt heartless words that had devastated her: Probably best not to keep in touch now I’ve moved on. I really hope you have a good life. R.
‘I do my best,’ said River, his tone frosty.
‘I’m sure you do,’ she replied, her tone matching River’s. ‘It’s a shame that you don’t always manage it.’
‘You seem to be having an argument in your own head, Clara. I have no idea what you’re going on about.’
He really didn’t, and she wasn’t about to remind him.
‘Right, I’d better get on,’ she said briskly. ‘Mum will be expecting me and Bartie wanted to see me.’
‘Yeah. OK. Um…’
‘Was there something else?’
‘Not really.’ He ran a hand through his fringe. ‘It’s just, talking of Bartie, you have to be a bit…well, you know, with him.’
Clara stared at River. ‘A bit, well, you know? No, I don’t know.’
‘What I’m trying to say is I know that Bartie is flirting with you and there’s possibly more going on, and he’s incredibly good looking and charismatic and you’ve always been a bit in awe of him, but you should be careful.’
‘One, I’ve never been in awe of Bartie, and two, why do I need to be careful?’
‘Well.’ River shifted from foot to foot. ‘Just in case he’s—’ He stopped mid-sentence. ‘No, it doesn’t matter.’
‘Of course it matters. Just in case he’s what?’
River breathed out slowly. ‘Just in case he’s trying it on with you but he doesn’t really mean it.’
‘He doesn’t really mean it?’ Clara blinked, annoyed with herself for suddenly wanting to cry. ‘Why doesn’t he really mean it? Because you can’t believe that an extremely handsome and successful man like Bartie would be interested in boring little me?’
‘No.’ River frowned. ‘That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m sure he would be interested in you. Any man would be interested in…’ He trailed off and scuffed his feet in the grass. ‘All I mean is, he can be disingenuous when it comes to women.’
‘In what way?’
‘He likes women, all women, and he likes them to like him.’
‘So what you’re saying is that he’s not particularly fussy?’
‘No, I’m not saying that, but it might be that you’re around and available.’
‘I’m around and available. Nice.’ Clara puffed out her cheeks. ‘Well, thank you so much for your advice on my love life and your ringing endorsement of my desirability to the opposite sex.’
‘You know what I’m trying to say. That didn’t come out right,’ said River, but Clara was too angry to take any notice.
‘You never liked Bartie much, even when we were kids. You were jealous of him then and you still sound jealous of him now.’
River looked up from his feet and caught Clara’s eye. ‘That’s not true. I’m only trying to warn you that he doesn’t always tell the whole truth.’
‘Such as?’
‘Well, I…’ River looked as if he was floundering but then he pulled his shoulders back. ‘He said it was his idea to try and save your mum’s cottage, but actually it was mine.’
‘So, you’re saying he stole it.’
‘Yes.’ He wiped a hand across his face. ‘That sounds petty and it’s not a great example but it points to a…a…less than stellar moral compass.’
Clara held his gaze for a moment before looking away.
‘Bye, River. I’m sure I’ll see you around.’
Then she walked away without looking back, berating herself for mistakenly believing that she and River Brellasham could ever again be friends.