Chapter 32
Faith marched over the rough terrain, picking a path across the stiff marram grass.
A soft mizzle was falling and, as she ascended the headland, it settled into a mist. Her calves were burning from the climb but she didn’t care – nothing could hurt as badly as the pain in her heart right now.
She was so consumed by her thoughts that she didn’t see a large rock that was hidden in the long grass until she had tripped over it.
She stumbled and almost fell, but managed to steady herself at the last minute.
She kept going as the wind howled and swirled in her ears.
She passed the ruins of the famine cottage, its crumbling stone walls still standing strong after almost two hundred years in the face of the Atlantic gust. She continued climbing and soon she had reached the clifftop.
The wind sucked her breath away and, the roar of the ocean made a cacophony.
She stood on the edge, looking down at the waves whipping up a froth beneath her as they crashed and licked the sandstone cliffs.
She took another step forward so that she was right on the precipice.
She could feel the cool sea spray on her face and taste the salt on her lips.
Her heart was pounding. She squeezed her eyes shut.
She was so close, so close to the edge: she knew that just one wrong step could see her tumbling into the raging waters below, but she needed to feel it.
She needed to feel what he had felt. She wanted to retrace his steps.
Was this the spot where her father had stood?
Was this the very place he had done it? Had he thought about everything he was leaving behind as he had worked up the courage to plunge off the cliff?
she wondered bitterly. Had he considered how his wife and daughters might feel?
Had they even crossed his mind at all? Or had he jumped without so much as a second thought about his family?
She had so many questions that would never be answered.
Had he been scared, just like she was now?
Maybe his stomach was knotted, his body shaking, adrenalin coursing through him like electricity.
Or had he thrown himself over with wild abandon, welcoming the free fall into the Atlantic?
Had he felt free? Had he felt a release from the weight of his worries?
she wondered. What if he’d had a change of heart at the last second, but a gust had taken him over the edge anyway?
On a stormy day, a person could easily be swept into the wild Atlantic …
but then she remembered the letter he had left for them.
It was no accident; it had been deliberate.
‘Don’t jump!’ she heard a voice call out from behind her. She struggled to hear it over the roar of the sea.
She swung around to see a man running up the headland towards her. A black and white sheepdog was with him, running off its lead.
As he got closer, she realised it was Jack.
‘Faith?’ he said, cupping a hand over his eyes to see her better through the mist. ‘W-what are you doing up here?’
‘Leave me alone!’ she shouted back at him.
‘Look, whatever’s upsetting you, it can be fixed, I promise you.’ He moved closer towards her and stretched out a hand to her. ‘Please don’t do anything stupid—’
‘I wasn’t going to jump!’ she cried indignantly, stepping back from the cliff face and away from his grip.
‘I’m so sorry … I-I thought … but why are you here?’
The dog came over and began sniffing around her ankles. ‘You were so close to the edge. You could have been swept over by a gust of wind!’ he admonished her.
‘I’d never do anything so selfish!’ she retorted. She might be her father’s daughter, but she could never do something like that.
‘Well, that’s a relief.’ He grinned. ‘I thought I was going to have to jump in after you, and I didn’t fancy leaving poor Setanta on his own.’
She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out whether he was joking. ‘Hardly.’
‘So, what are you doing up here?’
‘I could ask you the same question,’ she retorted.
‘Well, I’m taking Setanta for a walk. He loves chasing the rabbits up here.’
‘I just needed to clear my head,’ she said.
‘Is everything okay? I hope Lucy is alright after her trip to the hospital? I’m sure you all got a fright.’
‘She’s okay. They checked her out in the hospital last night so she’s back home.’ Out of loyalty to her sister, she didn’t want to tell him about Lucy’s pregnancy. It wasn’t her news to share, and she knew Lucy needed to get her head around it first.
‘Well, that’s a relief.’ He cocked his head to one side and she caught a glimpse of the boyish teenager she’d once known so well. ‘So, what’s wrong?’ he probed. ‘What brought you up here?’
Suddenly she couldn’t keep her feelings inside any more. The argument with her mother and the secret about her father came rushing back to her. ‘Everything,’ she said. A sob caught in her throat.
‘Hey,’ he said, placing his arm around her shoulder, ‘let’s get down from here; it’s miserable. Let’s go somewhere warmer to talk – only if you want to, of course,’ he added.
She nodded mutely, too tired to speak.
They walked down the headland towards the village. Setanta ran ahead of them, bounding through the heather and gorse, chasing rabbits. When they’d outrun him, he’d return to Jack, panting, until he spotted another and off he’d dart again.
Eventually they came to the gravel path that led to the village. In the distance puffs of smoke rose from chimneys and clouded in the misty air.
Jack jerked his thumb towards The Anchor. ‘I don’t know about you, but I could use a hot whiskey to warm up.’ He rubbed his hands together.
‘That sounds good,’ she agreed, suddenly realising that she had left the house without a coat and was shivering.
Inside the pub, a few locals sat on stools at the bar while Jim the owner polished glasses.
A turf fire crackled in the grate, radiating warmth throughout the room.
Setanta roamed over to greet Patch, who was asleep in front of the hearth.
The two dogs sniffed one another for a moment before Setanta grew bored and returned to his owner.
‘You go find us a seat and I’ll get the drinks,’ Jack said to her.
Faith did as he instructed, too worn out to protest. After a few minutes, Jack came down to the snug she was sitting in with two steaming glasses of amber whiskey with a slice of lemon in each. He sat beside her while Setanta, finally worn out from all his running, lay down at Jack’s feet.
‘Do you want to tell me what’s going on?’ Jack began.
She sighed as he took a sip of her hot whiskey. It burned its way down her throat, but the warmth was exactly what she needed. ‘Where do I start?’
‘Why don’t you start at the beginning?’
‘Well, I’ve just discovered that my mother has lied to me for my whole life. Everything I thought I knew about my childhood isn’t true.’
His brow furrowed. ‘What happened?’
She exhaled heavily. ‘Well, Mum and Lucy were arguing and it ended up escalating, as it always does with my mum and sister. They just seem to rub each other up the wrong way. They’ve been doing it my whole life,’ she sighed.
‘Anyway, Lucy said some horrible things to Mum about Elizabeth being more of a mother to us than she ever was, and Mum got angry and said some awful things about Nanna. She said she wasn’t the woman we thought she was, and she had a dark side—’ She broke off, reliving the shocking words once more.
‘Go on,’ Jack pushed.
‘Well, naturally Lucy and I got upset hearing her talk about Nanna like that … and then Mum decided to drop the bombshell that my dad didn’t actually die of cancer, like she’d told us all these years.’
Jack looked at her, wide-eyed. ‘How did he die then?’
‘Mum said he took his own life. Up there on the headland.’
‘I’m so sorry, Faith.’ He ran his hand through his wild auburn hair and the familiarity of the gesture transported her back to all those carefree summers they’d spent together in the village.
How simple life had been back then, and she hadn’t appreciated it.
If only she could be young and carefree again…
‘Thanks.’ Her voice quivered as his sympathy brought all the pain to the surface once more.
‘Mum said she wanted to protect us from it, so she lied. Nanna did too – that’s the most hurtful bit.
Mum said Nanna was horrible to her after Dad died, that she tried to blame Mum for putting him under pressure.
Mum reckons Nanna only stepped in to look after us out of a sense of guilt about what had happened, not because she was the amazing grandmother we always believed she was.
It was horrible hearing her say all those things, not just about Dad but about Nanna too.
I don’t know who to believe. I feel like I’m looking back over everything, all my childhood memories, and examining them under a new light.
Everything I thought I knew about some of the people I loved most isn’t real, and the worst part is that Nanna isn’t even here to defend herself or give her side of the story.
I can’t imagine her being so cruel to Mum, but I also don’t think Mum would make something like that up out of spite.
Who knows? Maybe she’s telling the truth.
Perhaps Nanna did lash out. Grief can do funny things to people.
Or maybe the truth lies somewhere in between. ’
Jack exhaled heavily. ‘That’s a lot to get your head around,’ he agreed. ‘No wonder you’re so upset.’
Tears began to fall down her face. She couldn’t stop them. ‘I’m sorry…’ she said quickly, trying to wipe them away, but it was futile as they were just replaced by fresh ones.
‘Hey, it’s all going to be okay.’ He reached out and wiped away a tear with his thumb.
He tilted her chin towards him so their faces were just inches apart.
The gesture was intimate. Too intimate. Coming to her senses, she pulled back quickly.
What if someone saw them? She felt self-conscious in front of the other villagers here in The Anchor.
What would people think? Even though it was entirely innocent on her part, what if someone thought there was more going on?
What would his wife think if she knew? Faith would hate to cause any trouble in his marriage.
God knew she had been on the receiving end of men playing offside often enough.
She stood up abruptly and wiped away her tears. ‘I’d better go,’ she said quickly.
‘Wait—’ he began. ‘What’s the matter? I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?’
A few people turned to look at them, probably wondering what was going on.
She was mortified. Technically he had only wiped away her tears, so she felt silly for making a big deal about it.
She couldn’t even explain to him why it had made her uncomfortable; perhaps she was reading too much into what had simply been a kind gesture.
But she did know that Jack shouldn’t be here having a drink in The Anchor with her; he should be at home with his lovely family.
She thought about his wife, at home right now taking care of their daughter, blissfully unaware of what was going on.
She felt seedy. She should never have agreed to come here with him.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time; she was upset and he was a familiar face.
She had been frozen and needed to warm up, but she had let her guard down – and now as she thawed out in the cosiness of the pub, she was beginning to rethink everything.
She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.
‘Well, at least let me walk you home. Dusk is starting to fall, and it’ll be dangerous walking back up the boreen towards the cottage in this light.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ she said brusquely, needing to get away from him.
He looked crestfallen. ‘Well, if you’re sure…’
‘Goodbye, Jack,’ she said without meeting his gaze and then she hurried out of the pub.