31. Clara
31
The dining room was noisy and smelled of overcooked vegetables. Around twenty people were sitting at circular tables, some eating or chatting and one or two seemingly asleep in their chairs.
Staff in blue tunics were moving amongst the diners, taking empty plates away and re-filling water glasses.
‘Excuse me, is Violet Winter in here?’ asked Clara, stepping aside to let a young man carrying two bowls go by. The residents of this care home on the outskirts of Dorking were about to enjoy treacle sponge and custard for pudding.
The man nodded distractedly towards double doors at the back of the dining hall.
‘I think Violet has gone to the beach. She told us she wasn’t very hungry today. Her appetite comes and goes.’
‘The beach?’ River frowned, as confused by this as Clara because the sea was miles away. ‘We thought she’d be here.’
The young man smiled and pulled the wobbling bowls closer to his chest. ‘It’s our kind of beach. You can find Vi through those doors over there.’ He glanced past Clara’s shoulder and grimaced. ‘Can’t stop. Jim’s about to kick off because he’s waiting for his dessert.’
Still confused, Clara murmured her thanks and she and River wound their way past tables and diners to the doors that were painted navy blue. Someone had fixed a wooden sign above the lintel that read: i do like to be beside the seaside.
Puzzled, she pushed the doors open and she and River stepped into a room that overlooked a garden filled with tidy flower beds.
‘Ah, a beach!’ whispered Clara, realising what the care assistant had been talking about.
One wall of this room was a bright azure blue, like the Mediterranean sky on a summer’s day, and a blazing yellow sun had been painted at its centre. Sweeping green waves, topped by white horses, were depicted at the bottom of the wall, and the floor in front of this faux sea was covered with real yellow sand. A low wooden guardrail had been fixed to the floor – a three-sided rectangle to keep the grains in place, and faint squawks of seagulls were sounding from a speaker high up on the wall.
‘It’s an indoor beach,’ said River beside her. ‘For people who can’t get out or who miss the sea. Absolute genius.’
A woman with a shock of white hair was the only person in the room. She was sitting with her back to them, staring out of the window at the garden’s lone tree that was bending in the wind.
When Clara glanced at River, he gave her a small nod. This was her project, her passion. This was for her to do.
‘Audrey?’ she asked gently, her voice drifting across the room, along with the bird song. ‘Audrey Brellasham?’
The woman’s head lifted at that but she continued staring ahead for a few seconds before turning towards them.
Clara caught her breath. Any doubts she’d had, any worries that she’d misunderstood the diary’s cryptic final message, were dispelled the moment she caught sight of the elderly woman’s face.
The skin was lined and the pale blue eyes tired, but the tilt of her jaw, the shape of her mouth, and her direct gaze were the same as in the portrait of a much younger woman that was hanging at Brellasham Manor.
Almost seventy years after her tragic death, Audrey Brellasham had been found.
Neither Clara nor River moved. They stared at the woman, who gave her visitors the faintest hint of a smile before folding her hands into the lap of her pink dress.
‘We’re sorry to intrude but would it be all right if we had a quick word with you?’ asked Clara, finding her voice.
Audrey gave a shrug and nodded at two chairs near her which were covered in blue and white striped fabric, to resemble deckchairs.
Taking that as a ‘yes’, Clara took a seat and River followed while she tried to gather her thoughts. She’d been working towards this for so long, suspecting that Audrey’s drowning was not as it seemed. Yet now that this moment had arrived and a dead woman was sitting in front of her, she could hardly believe it.
Audrey was the first to break the silence.
‘Nobody has called me that name in years. But I’ve been expecting you,’ she said, her voice quiet but steady. ‘I’ve been expecting you for a very long time.’
‘We’re not here to cause you any problems,’ said River. ‘We don’t mean to disturb you or your life.’
‘Then why are you here?’ asked Audrey, raising a hand to her white bun and self-consciously checking that no hair had escaped the grips that secured it.
Why, indeed? The whole situation was so surreal, Clara was suddenly at a loss to know what to say. She’d been so focused on finding Audrey but not on what happened afterwards. She hadn’t paid enough attention to how her need to know the truth might affect the woman in front of her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured. ‘We shouldn’t have come.’
‘But you have.’ Audrey’s pale eyes met Clara’s. She seemed calm, resigned almost. ‘So tell me why. You know my name so I presume you know some of my story.’
‘The story everyone believes is that you drowned in 1957 in the sea off Heaven’s Cove.’
‘Not everyone believes it. You didn’t or you wouldn’t be here. How did you find me after all this time?’ She leaned forward, staring into the faces of her visitors. ‘You have an advantage over me. You know who I am but who are you? We’ve never met, yet you both seem oddly familiar. What are your names?’
When Clara placed a hand on her chest, she could feel her heart beating extra fast. ‘I’m Clara, Clara Netherway.’
‘Netherway, you say.’ Audrey’s gaze became unfocused, as if she was remembering something from another time. ‘I knew a Netherway once. Are you any relation to Violet?’
‘I’m her granddaughter.’
‘Did she send you?’
‘I’m afraid not. Gran died a while ago.’
Audrey leaned back in her chair, a frown creasing her forehead. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Your grandmother was a good woman, one of the best. And I can see the resemblance between you now, with your freckles and pretty eyes.’ She turned her gaze on River. ‘And you? Why do I feel that we’ve already met?’
‘I’m River Brellasham.’ Audrey’s breathing grew more shallow and her already pale face blanched. She looked like the ghost that everyone had assumed she was. River and Clara exchanged worried looks and he pushed his chair back, farther away from the elderly woman. ‘I’m sorry. Do you want us to leave?’
‘No.’ Audrey began to fidget, her hands lacing and unlacing in her lap. ‘I’m afraid your surname took me by surprise. I haven’t seen a member of that family for a very long time. But no, I don’t want you to go. I always thought someone might come one day, and today is that day.’ She peered at him more closely. ‘Who exactly are you?’
‘I’m Geoffrey’s son.’
‘Little Geoffrey?’
‘Yes, that’s right. Though he’s not so little now.’
Audrey looked River up and down before declaring: ‘You don’t look much like your father.’
‘I’m told I look more like my mother. I have her fair hair and brown eyes.’
‘Her long hair too, I dare say, and you’re very tanned for Devon.’
River stifled a grin. ‘I’ve lived in Australia for almost twenty years.’
‘With Geoffrey? He couldn’t cope with the heat of an English summer as a child.’
‘No, my mother and I left and he stayed on his own in Heaven’s Cove, at Brellasham Manor.’
‘Ah, I see.’ Audrey paused. ‘I dare say I could have found all of that out if I’d tried. They say you can find everything on the internet these days. There’s a computer here in the home and the staff encourage us to use it but I don’t often bother. Is the internet how you found me?’
‘Eventually,’ said Clara. ‘Though it took us a while.’
‘You haven’t said yet why you’ve come looking for me.’
‘I…I…’ Clara blinked, unsure how to explain her motivation to the woman who had been in her thoughts for so long. ‘I saw your portrait which is hanging in the manor. The one of you in a yellow dress, and I became interested in you and your story.’
‘I never imagined that my portrait would still be on display.’
‘I believe that was my father’s doing,’ said River. ‘He insisted on it.’
Audrey’s lower lip trembled and her next words were so indistinct, Clara barely caught them. ‘So, he didn’t forget me, then.’
Clara had an urge to put her hand on Audrey’s, to comfort this elderly woman who had left behind a child she held dear. But she wasn’t sure that any show of affection would be welcomed from her or River. They were strangers to Audrey, and the three of them were walking an emotional tightrope between the past and the present.
‘How is Geoffrey doing?’ Audrey asked River, her voice more steady now.
‘He’s healthy and still living in the manor house for the moment. But the costs involved in keeping the place repaired and running mean that it’ll soon have to be sold.’
‘Brellasham Manor no longer belonging to the Brellashams?’ Audrey shook her head. ‘Edwin wouldn’t like that. He wouldn’t like that at all.’
Hearing Audrey speak the name of her abusive husband gave Clara a jolt. Would she want to know what had happened to him after she’d left? Clara had just decided it was best not to mention him when Audrey said unprompted: ‘I know that Edwin is dead. It said so the one time I looked up his name, a couple of years ago. I’d never tried before then to find out what had happened to my husband. I was frightened that if I asked any questions he would hear of it and find me.’
‘And you didn’t want to be found,’ said Clara.
‘It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be found. I couldn’t be found. But I don’t expect you to understand.’
‘The thing is, Audrey, we do understand, more than you think…is it all right to call you Audrey? Perhaps I should be calling you Violet or Ms Winter? Whichever you prefer is?—’
Clara stopped talking, realising that she was babbling because she was nervous. What she was about to explain would lead to her confessing that she’d read this woman’s diary, and her mother’s words were echoing in her mind: It’s a gross betrayal of trust.
‘I think at this point Audrey is fine.’ The elderly woman folded her arms, curiosity written across her face. ‘What exactly is it that you understand?’
Clara hesitated until a discreet nod from River gave her the courage to carry on. ‘From the outside, your life at Brellasham Manor looked amazing – a beautiful house, a handsome husband, ballgowns and dances. But we know that things weren’t what they seemed and Edwin wasn’t the loving husband he appeared to be.’
‘And how do you know all of that?’ asked Audrey, shifting in her seat.
‘We know because of your diary,’ said Clara, pulling it from her bag that was looped across her body. ‘I found it in my grandmother’s belongings after she died. She must have taken it from your bedroom.’
Audrey took the book in shaking hands and began to leaf through it. And as she ran her fingers across the words she’d written so long ago, her eyes began to brim with tears. ‘But how…how did this diary lead you to me?’
This was the part that Clara was dreading the most. How would Audrey react when she found out that the two strangers in front of her knew intimate details about her life and marriage? Details that she’d deliberately made unintelligible because they were a secret. Her secret. But Clara knew she’d come too far and this woman was owed both an explanation and an apology.
‘I’m so sorry but I read your diary,’ she blurted out. ‘I know it’s a terrible invasion of privacy, a gross betrayal of trust even, but I reckoned it was OK because you were dead, or so I thought. And then, when I saw the numbers you’d written and the coded message my gran sent you I was intrigued. I managed to decipher the numbers, using the dictionary we found in your bedside table and your final coded words, Can a flower bloom in the snow? Only time will tell, along with your love for the novel Rebecca, suggested to me that you might have chosen the new name Violet Winter, and I knew from your birth certificate that you had a link to Dorking.’ Clara swallowed. ‘I have a reputation for being stubborn and not letting things drop.’
Fake seagulls squawked from the speaker as Clara waited for Audrey’s response. She was expecting anger, upset, outrage even, but all Audrey said was: ‘So you know what Edwin was really like.’ Clara nodded, angered afresh by the lifelong effect that Edwin’s abuse had wreaked on this softly spoken woman. ‘And you too?’ Audrey asked River.
‘Yes, and I’m so sorry for what my grandfather did to you.’
Audrey regarded him for a moment, her eyes unbearably sad. Then she reached over and patted his knee. ‘It’s not for you to apologise for the actions of a man who’s long gone. His flaws aren’t your responsibility.’
‘I guess so.’ River’s voice was husky with emotion. ‘But I’m sorry all the same.’
‘Everybody’s sorry. You on behalf of a man you probably hardly knew, and you,’ said Audrey, turning her attention to Clara, ‘for reading a diary that I meant to destroy. But I suppose that reading the diary of a dead woman is allowed, and I’m impressed that you worked out my code. You’re a clever girl. Just like your grandmother.’
Clara felt her shoulders relax. She’d been holding herself tight, waiting for condemnation from Audrey that wasn’t coming.
‘I forgot to destroy my diary before I left and I was so worried it would get Violet into trouble. If Edwin had realised the message was in her handwriting…’ Audrey grasped hold of Clara’s hand. Her skin was cool and ridged with blue veins. ‘He never did find out, did he? She didn’t lose her job?’
‘No, he never found out and Gran didn’t lose her job. But she was spotted in your bedroom and was under suspicion for a while of stealing the diamond necklace that went missing when you did.’
Audrey pulled back her hand. ‘Of course Violet didn’t steal the diamonds. That must have been dreadful for her. I’m terribly sorry, after she’d helped me so much.’
‘Do you mind me asking how exactly my grandmother helped you?’
‘Violet knew about Edwin’s temper and, when she noticed that I sometimes had bruises, I began to confide in her. But as Edwin’s paranoia increased, he forbade me from talking to the staff and began to limit who I could see and when. I could only see people if he was present too. He was morbidly jealous for no good reason and, after a while, I wasn’t even allowed to go out of the manor grounds on my own.’ She paused. ‘It was a difficult time, to say the least. But your grandmother was kind. She risked dismissal by speaking to me when she could and, when that became ever more challenging, we began to communicate using coded notes.’
‘I’m glad you had Violet,’ said Clara, feeling an overwhelming rush of love for her brave, big-hearted grandmother. ‘But everything seemed to come to a head after the ball.’
‘Ah, the ball.’ Audrey closed her eyes and her body began to sway, as if she could hear music from long ago, from another life.
‘I was so excited when Edwin agreed to having a grand ball at the manor,’ she said, opening her eyes. ‘The house was so lonely, I craved company. I was only twenty-four years old and full of life.’
‘Why did he agree to the ball at all?’ River asked.
Audrey blinked at him as if she’d forgotten he was there. ‘It suited him to invite people with whom he was hoping to do business, and maybe he realised that he couldn’t keep me cooped up for ever? I don’t know. I didn’t ask any questions in case he changed his mind. I simply threw myself into the preparations.’
‘The ball sounded wonderful from your description,’ said Clara, fascinated by Audrey’s memories.
‘It was the most magnificent evening,’ she declared, her eyes shining. ‘The ballroom was lit by hundreds of candles and a string orchestra played for hours. Our guests were resplendent in long gowns and black tie and tails, and I wore my beautiful yellow dress and was so happy.’ She smiled, lost in her memories. ‘But afterwards…’
Audrey’s hands had begun to shake and Clara put hers on top of them. She and Audrey no longer felt like strangers, not when so much was being shared in this room that pretended to be the seaside.
‘You don’t have to tell us anything more. We’ve found you, and that’s all that matters.’
Audrey turned her pale blue eyes on Clara. ‘But don’t you understand that I want to tell you? That’s why I’ve been so open since you arrived. I’ve carried this with me for the last sixty-seven years. I’ve been living a lie and the truth needs to come into the light before I die. Will you please both listen to my story?’
When Clara and River glanced at each other and nodded, Audrey continued.
‘I was getting ready for bed, after the ball. I’d finished writing my diary and was in the bathroom when Edwin appeared in a rage. He’d drunk too much and was slurring his words. He accused me of flirting with William Jenkinson, an older man who had actually been kind to me.
‘Edwin was busy all night talking to business associates and William took pity on me. We danced a few times and he fetched me some food. We talked about his children and his wife, who was unwell so hadn’t accompanied him. We discussed the challenges of being a parent and I confided in him that I sometimes felt awkward around Geoffrey. I cared about him but wasn’t sure how he felt about me. That was all that happened.’
‘Did Edwin believe you when you told him that?’ asked River.
‘No. He became more angry than I’d ever seen him before and, when I tried to get past him, he pinned me to the wall by my neck.’
She cleared her throat as if Edwin’s hands were still around it, chasing the breath from her.
‘He finally released me when I began to cry but he promised to kill me if I so much as looked at another man ever again, and I believed him.’
‘That’s appalling,’ said River. ‘Was there someone you could tell about his threats?’
‘Who would I tell? Domestic abuse was rarely talked about and certainly not amongst well-off families. Everyone thought I lived a charmed life with nothing to complain about, and plenty of people thought I was a money-grabber who’d married a much older man for his house when, in fact, I’d married him for love. So who would have believed that I was terrified of my husband?’
‘My grandmother,’ said Clara.
Audrey smiled. ‘That’s right. Wonderful Violet, who noticed the marks around my neck and knew I had to get away. She knew I was desperate to escape, one way or another.’
‘One way or another?’ Clara probed gently.
‘I just wanted my life in that house to end because I couldn’t go on like that. Looking back, I can see how depressed and frightened I was.’
‘So my grandmother helped you.’
‘And your grandfather did, too.’
Clara blinked at this bombshell but bit back questions about her grandfather’s involvement because words were still spilling from Audrey’s mouth.
‘I was trapped at Brellasham Manor. Edwin had even hired security staff – thugs really – to patrol the border of his land. He said it was to keep burglars out, but I knew it was to keep me in. Then Violet offered me a lifeline. She sent the message you found in my diary because she’d found a way out for me.
‘Edwin could stop me leaving by land but he couldn’t stop me leaving by sea. A boat pulling into the cove would have been noticed, but not a lone figure walking into the waves. But someone must have seen me. I saw newspaper articles soon afterwards that said I’d drowned.’
‘Yes,’ said River quietly. He’d taken a back seat, letting Clara take the lead, but now he leaned forward. ‘My father saw you walking into the water.’
‘Geoffrey saw me?’ gasped Audrey. ‘That can’t be right.’
‘He was in the library, looking out of the window.’
‘No, no, no.’ Audrey was shaking her head. ‘That definitely couldn’t have happened. I timed my escape so that Geoffrey was in the dining room, having his evening meal with his father. Edwin insisted on it every night.’
‘That night my father wasn’t feeling well so he was excused to sit quietly and read a book. That’s when he saw you wading into the sea.’
‘I’m sorry. That was never the plan.’ Audrey’s face crumpled. ‘Poor Geoffrey.’
‘He’s all right,’ River assured her, but Clara knew that wasn’t really the truth. His father was an unemotional, lonely and unhappy man – but how much of that was due to seeing the stepmother he loved apparently drown herself would never be known.
Audrey sat quietly for a moment, composing herself. Then she said: ‘The sea was so cold that night, I thought I might drown. But I managed to swim to the headland, to where your grandfather was waiting for me in his boat, Clara. My rescue was a Netherway family affair and I will always be grateful to your family for saving my life.’
‘Where did you go?’ Clara asked, curious about what the last almost seven decades had been like for a woman with a new life and no past.
‘Here and there. I spent much of my life in rural parts of Ireland. I had no close family, so I was able to disappear.’
‘Did you marry again or have children?’
Pain flickered across Audrey’s face. ‘No. I was still married to Edwin, even if he didn’t know it.’
‘You survived,’ River interrupted, ‘but you left my father alone with an abusive man.’
There was no accusation in his voice but Clara had once known him so well she recognised anger in the tightening of his jaw.
Audrey turned to face him. ‘Edwin was abusive to me but I knew he’d never lay a finger on his son. He was proud of his boy and he loved him. If I’d taken Geoffrey with me, Edwin would never have stopped looking for us. And I couldn’t expect a young boy to walk into the sea with me that night when I didn’t know if I would live or die. I was right to leave him behind.’ She glanced up at River, fear in her eyes. ‘Wasn’t I? Edwin never harmed Geoffrey, did he?’
River shook his head. ‘As far as I’m aware, he never hurt Geoffrey physically.’
Emotionally, it was probably a different matter. But Clara was grateful that River didn’t elaborate because Audrey sighed with relief. ‘Does Geoffrey know that I’ve been found?’
‘No. We thought it best not to say anything, until we’d spoken to you.’
‘Then, I’d ask that you don’t tell him. It was all a long time ago and he has moved on. He doesn’t need me back in his life, stirring up the past.’
‘He might want to know,’ said River, but Audrey waved away his words.
‘I doubt it. You must care a great deal about your father because you’ve come to find me. But sometimes the best thing we can do for the ones we love is to protect them from the truth. Please promise me that you won’t say a word,’ she pleaded. ‘My life hasn’t been easy but I think I can finally put Audrey Brellasham to rest now I’ve told you what happened. I’m Violet Winter, who wants to live out her final days in peace.’
River looked at Clara, who nodded because they owed Audrey that at least. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘We won’t tell my father. You might be right that he’s better off not knowing.’
Audrey’s shoulders slumped and she folded her fingers around the diary in her lap. ‘Thank you.’
Her eyelids were fluttering as if she could hardly keep them open. The poor woman was exhausted after reliving so many painful memories, and Clara’s heart ached for her.
‘We’ll let you get some rest,’ she said, getting to her feet. Lunch was done in the next room and a couple of diners had just pushed open the door. ‘Thank you so much for seeing us and for sharing with us what happened. That can’t have been easy.’
‘Not easy, but necessary.’ Audrey gave a small smile. ‘Now you know that I didn’t perish in September 1957. I survived then and I’m surviving still, if that’s what sitting in front of a painted beach amounts to.’
‘Will you be all right? Would you like me to send someone in to be with you?’
‘No, thank you. I’ll just sit here quietly for a while.’
River and Clara had started walking away when Clara had a sudden thought and looked back. ‘Audrey…I’m so sorry. I have one more question. What happened to the diamond necklace that my grandmother was accused of stealing?’
Audrey didn’t look round. ‘I was wearing the necklace when I left but it was dragged from my neck by the current and the diamonds are now at the bottom of the ocean. Just as well, really.’
‘Wow, that was intense,’ said Clara as she and River walked away from the care home. She felt punch-drunk from the intensity of the last twenty minutes and she could sense that River felt the same way. He was breathing heavily beside her, as if he’d just been for a run. ‘I can’t believe that we found Audrey. I only hope we did the right thing in coming to see her.’
Clara knew she was seeking reassurance but she was still worried that her need to know the truth about Audrey had trumped her concern for the elderly woman’s well-being.
‘I think it was the right thing,’ said River, his footsteps falling into synch with hers. ‘It was emotional but Audrey said herself that she wanted to share the truth before it was too late. She wanted to tell us what had happened, and she seemed more at peace, somehow, once she’d got it off her chest. She’s been waiting for the truth to catch up with her for almost seventy years and hopefully she’ll feel better now that her secret’s been shared.’
‘It’s been a big secret to keep,’ Clara agreed, thinking of her grandmother who had guarded it ’til her dying day. ‘One that’s shaped her whole life.’ She glanced across at River, whose breathing had slowed. ‘A part of me wishes we could tell your dad, though.’
‘Me too.’ He shrugged. ‘We’ve got a big secret to keep now. The baton has been passed to us. But we promised Audrey and she’s probably right when she says it’s better that he doesn’t know. He’s got enough to cope with at the moment and, as far as he’s concerned, the trauma surrounding Audrey’s apparent death was dealt with ages ago.’
‘I guess so,’ said Clara, although she wasn’t sure anyone could ever deal fully with such a traumatic event. But River was right; they’d promised Audrey so there was nothing to be done.
‘Did you leave the diary with her?’ asked River.
‘Yeah, it’s hers and she can do what she likes with it – keep it or destroy it,’ Clara answered, remembering how her mum had dumped the book into the bin with the vegetable peelings. Audrey would never have been found had it stayed there. But perhaps the diary had now done its job and it was time for it to disappear for ever, along with Audrey Brellasham.
They walked a little further along the busy street before Clara asked: ‘Do you believe her about the diamonds?’
‘I don’t know,’ said River, side-stepping a woman with a buggy. ‘Maybe she sold them to fund her new life. I wouldn’t blame her.’
‘Or they’re resting on the seabed somewhere off Heaven’s Cove.’
Clara could picture them glinting in shafts of sunlight that filtered through the depths.
River suddenly stopped in the middle of the pavement. ‘It was hard to hear how badly my grandfather treated Audrey.’ He turned to face Clara, ignoring tutting passers-by who had to walk around them. ‘Do you think I’m like him? I lose my temper sometimes and I can be stubborn and single-minded and?—’
Clara grabbed hold of his arms. ‘River, listen to me. You’re nothing like Edwin. You’re kind and sensitive and caring. You hardly ever lose your temper, you put up with me for years, and you didn’t even thump Bartie when he was being horrible. There’s no resemblance, honestly. You’re two very different men.’
River breathed out slowly and nodded. ‘OK. Thanks,’ he said gruffly.
They walked on towards the car park and neither of them made any comment when Clara slipped her hand into his.