Chapter 48
Will drove me back to Willowdale in silence, evidently sensing that I needed some time to try and process what I’d discovered. Back in the flat, he filled the kettle and made me a mug of strong tea.
‘I keep thinking of all these aspects of my childhood that make so much more sense now,’ I said as Will settled onto the sofa beside me. ‘How did I miss it all?’
‘Because you weren’t looking for it. Who would be?’
‘My poor mum. She tried so hard to get me to have a relationship with Marianne and she…’ I bit my lip. ‘But she wasn’t my mum, was she? She was my grandma! I can’t call her that.’
‘Then don’t. Call her what you’ve always called her.’
I stared down into my mug. ‘I don’t think this is going to be strong enough but I don’t have any alcohol in the flat.’
‘Do you want to go to the pub?’
A few drinks in The Hardy Herdwick slipped down way too easily, taking the edge off the shock, numbing the pain.
Will could not have been more supportive, letting me witter on endlessly with whatever came into my head.
The conversation flitted from childhood memories to observations about the weather to worries about what I was going to do with the cottage.
It was all over the place but that’s how I felt right now.
As we left the pub and the fresh air hit me, it struck me that I was more inebriated than I’d ever been.
‘I’ve drunk too much,’ I slurred as I struggled to stay in a straight line.
Will slipped his arm round my waist to prevent me from stumbling into the road and kept me upright and moving forward all the way back to the flat.
‘Today took a few unexpected turns,’ I said, sinking onto one of the dining chairs while Will filled me a glass with tap water. ‘Some fantastic and others…’ I shrugged.
‘Do you need anything else?’ Will asked. ‘Some toast maybe?’
‘Just you. Will you stay? It’s okay if you need to go or you want to go. I’ll be fine.’
‘I’ll stay. Why don’t you get yourself ready for bed and I’ll cover Trevor and put the lights out in here?’
I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth then into the bedroom to remove my clothes, although stepping out of my jeans was a bit of a challenge in my addled state. I pulled on a nightie before climbing under the duvet.
Will knocked lightly on the door. ‘Are you in bed?’
‘Yes.’
He opened the door. ‘Do you have any spare bedding?’
‘No.’ I peeled back the duvet. ‘There’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom and you can…’ But my eyes were heavy and forming any more words was such an effort.
* * *
‘Thought you might need this.’
I could smell coffee and I blinked in the dim light. My head hurt.
‘What time is it?’
‘Eight, so still quite early, but I thought you might want some time to listen to more of the tape before you open the shop.’
I nodded slowly. ‘I’m sorry about last night.’
‘Don’t be. I’d have done the same. There’s some paracetamol and a fresh glass of water by the bed.’
‘Thank you.’
Will left the room and I gratefully downed the tablets and the whole glass of water, feeling completely dehydrated.
The coffee was too hot so I had a shower while it was cooling and, by the time I joined Will and Trevor, I felt a lot more human but I still couldn’t get my head around what had happened yesterday.
Marianne’s death had been difficult enough but the discovery that she was my mother…
I didn’t know what to do with that. It didn’t feel real.
‘Thank you for staying,’ I said as I settled onto the sofa beside Will. ‘I didn’t want to be alone last night.’
‘I didn’t want you to be alone.’
‘But you’re going through so much already. I can’t believe I’ve just added to your burdens.’
Will took my hand in his. ‘Nothing about you is a burden. I want to be here. I want to help. How are you feeling?’
‘Apart from the fuzzy head and the mouth like a desert? Still confused. It feels like a bad dream.’
‘You could always listen to the rest of the tape after work.’
‘If I wait, I’ll only spend all day thinking about it. You don’t have to stay if you have plans.’
‘I’m seeing my mum this afternoon but I’m free this morning. Should I plug it in?’
‘Fourth part,’ Marianne said once Will set the tape playing once more.
‘Or I think it is… Yes, it is. I was fifteen when you were born. It was a home birth. Eli Farrow paid a midwife who wouldn’t ask questions.
Mum doted on you but Dad couldn’t bring himself to look at you.
He used to be warm and friendly but he turned into an angry, bitter man.
Mum and Dad argued all the time. She liked Richard and still believed the three of us could be a family but Dad told her to get her head out the clouds.
Me falling pregnant destroyed their marriage.
Mum went on the happy pills and floated around in a daze, oblivious to how crap everything was.
Those Friday-night school reports were so hard for me, pretending to be your sister and not a proud parent.
It was easier to push you away than risk getting close and having the truth come out.
And it was easier to stay away from you instead of look at you every day and see Richard’s eyes.
I know I was awful to you and I wish I could change every part of it but I can’t.
None of this was your fault. If Richard and I had been allowed to be together, you’d have been the daughter of my dreams, but we weren’t and I couldn’t cope with it. I’m sorry.’
‘More things suddenly making sense,’ I said to Will when Marianne paused.
‘I’m back and I need to talk to you about the cottage and the smallholding.
You already know that the cottage was left to both of us when my dad died so now it’s completely yours.
As for the smallholding, if you’ve looked through the documents, you’ll know that I sold it.
Shortly after my dad died, Eli Farrow did too and Richard returned to take over the farm.
He was married with children and I could hardly blame him for that.
It was easy to avoid him. If I went out, I didn’t cross the farm and he was hardly going to call on me.
I had no interest in the smallholding so I’d had someone in managing it but they stepped down and I couldn’t face searching for a replacement.
I waited until I saw Richard’s wife go out with the kids one weekend and I marched down to the farm and told Richard he needed to buy the land back.
Obviously he didn’t want to but I had nothing to lose and said I’d tell his wife the truth if he didn’t.
He said I’d told him I didn’t know if he was the father so I told him I’d said that for his own protection and he had to have known that deep down and, even if he didn’t believe me, the fact remained that he’d been eighteen and I’d been a minor.
I hated threatening him like that – made me no better than my dad or his – but it worked and he bought the land back.
I never spent a penny of it so, as well as the cottage, all that money and the interest it’s earned is yours.
I’m sorry there’s nothing much inside that can be salvaged.
You’ll need to spend some money doing it up before you sell it as I can’t imagine you’ll want to live here.
I hope you don’t. Even after the work, you’ll still walk away a rich woman. ’
My head was spinning. Was all that money really mine? It felt a bit weird – like I’d been awarded compensation for a bad childhood. I didn’t care about the money. I cared about the truth and wished with all my heart that I wasn’t just finding out about it now.
The tape clicked and Marianne cleared her throat.
‘This is my final recording. I have no right to play the mother card and offer you some pearls of wisdom but I’m going to anyway.
Dad used to go on and on about Cliff being a homosexual.
I barely knew him so I can’t comment. If he was and you married him just to escape this hellhole, I’m glad he made you happy but happiness isn’t the same as true love.
I hope you do find someone you love who loves you in return because it’s a special thing when it happens.
If you do, my advice is to love them unreservedly and never let them go.
I should have fought for Richard and he should have fought for me because we were meant to be together.
We spoke a few times after he bought the land.
We made our peace and we both regretted that we’d wasted our lives.
I said pearls plural but it’s just the one.
It’s a good one, though. I need to go now, Yvonne.
I’m so very tired and everything hurts. I’m not afraid of dying but I was afraid of living.
I don’t want you to be. Richard died a few years ago and I believe he’s waiting for me.
Scatter my ashes where the shepherd’s hut was.
He’s there. Please be happy and, even though I know I ask the impossible, please try to find a way to forgive me.
I know I never showed it, but I did love you so very much and I’ve always been incredibly proud of you.
I should have told you that but… As I say, lots of regrets.
One final thing. I hope you still use Mum’s sewing machine.
I couldn’t save the piano but at least I could save that for you. ’
The tape clicked and then there was static. It really was the end.
‘She’s the one who dropped the sewing machine off,’ I said, tears pooling in my eyes. ‘We thought Dad must have had a change of heart but it was Marianne who did it. She hated going out. That must have been so hard for her.’
‘But she loved you so she did it for you.’
I could barely catch my breath as the tears poured down my cheeks, punctuated by loud cries. Will gathered me to his side and stroked my hair as years of pent-up frustration and feelings of rejection finally had their release.
* * *
I was too churned up to work in the shop after all but, when I tried ringing Paulette to ask if I could take her up on her offer to do her usual Sunday shift after all, I couldn’t get the words out and burst into tears once more.
Will took the phone from me and told her that the grief had hit me today and I was worried about breaking down in front of customers.
‘She’ll be here shortly,’ Will said after he ended the call.
‘Thanks for keeping it vague. I will tell her the full story, but it’s too much for now. When I was in the shower, I was wondering whether I’d want to meet Richard. I can’t believe he’s dead too.’
‘Does it upset you?’
I shrugged. ‘I’m struggling so much with the idea that my parents weren’t really my parents, I can’t even begin to get upset about the death of a biological dad I didn’t know existed.’
We sat in silence for several minutes.
‘I should have fought for you,’ Will said.
‘How?’
‘By tracking you down. Yvonne’s not that common a name and I knew you lived in the Lakes. I probably could have found you.’
‘What stopped you?’
‘My own stupid self-doubt. I thought that, after I’d gone, you came to your senses and chose Cliff. I suppose I was too scared to find you and have you confirm that.’
‘It never happened.’
‘I know that now. I know something else too. I asked you whether you’d have left Cliff if you’d found me and you said you weren’t sure.’
‘I’m not.’
Will’s fingers crept into his hair and he began circling it. My stomach clenched. Why was he nervous? Surely he wasn’t going to tell me he couldn’t do this right now or, even worse, ever.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked. ‘You’re worrying me.’
‘When we met and you told me how loyal you felt towards Cliff for everything he’d done for you, I thought I understood but I didn’t.
Not really. I do now. I’ve seen what you were fleeing from, I’ve heard it in Marianne’s voice, and I’ve felt it pouring from you.
I think that, after we met, you were ready to leave him and I genuinely believe it would have happened if he hadn’t been in that car crash.
But after he was hurt, even if we had found each other, I’m convinced that your choice would have been different. You’d have picked him.’
‘Will, I…’ My heart was pounding. I couldn’t deny it. Deep down, I knew he spoke the truth, but what did that mean for us? Was this goodbye?
‘Don’t look so worried,’ he said, taking my hands in his.
‘I’m not angry or disappointed or anything like that.
You have such a kind heart, Yvonne. I knew that from the moment I met you and it’s why I fell for you.
You love deeply and you’re fiercely loyal to the people you care about.
That’s why you stayed. That’s why you never told him about us. ’
The tears slipped down my cheeks as I marvelled at how he knew me better than I knew myself.
‘He would have let me go. I only had to say the word, but I couldn’t do it to him. I owed him my sanity… my life.’
‘I realise that now. I understand completely and I think you did the right thing.’
‘You do?’
He nodded. ‘I don’t think you could have lived with the guilt if you’d said goodbye to him.’
‘I’m sorry I hurt you in the process.’
‘You don’t need to apologise. I know it was never intentional because that’s not who you are. But you do realise that, now that destiny has finally reunited us, I’m not letting you go again?’
‘Good, because I don’t want you to.’
For the next couple of hours, we curled up together on the sofa and held each other and I knew that this was it. We’d finally found each other, we were free to be together, and neither of us were going to let go.