The first person I see as I walk on to the ward is Vicky. She is sitting on the chairs near the reception holding a plastic cup, her hands clutched around it as if she is huddling for warmth. I falter. Last time I spoke to her she sounded so angry, so disappointed, and facing her now fills me with an ominous dread. What if she rejects me? What if she acknowledges me briefly then leaves? But before I have an opportunity to say her name, she’s caught sight of me. She places her cup on the floor and gets up and runs to me with outstretched arms.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she says, squeezing me in a python-like embrace. ‘I said awful things to you. I’ve been in pieces. I’ve been feeling sick with worry.’ She lets go of me and smiles, kissing my cheek. ‘I was just so cross with Nathan. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d ruined my weekend, and even though Phil kept telling me to forget about it, I couldn’t. I was fuming. But then he told me he thought you were with me and I felt like such an idiot and, well, I was hurt.’ She lowered her eyes. ‘And I felt guilty too, because I knew you’d get it in the neck when he found out you’d lied to him.’
‘You were right to be cross. It was a shitty thing I did and you have nothing to be sorry about. It’s me who should be sorry. I should have told you and I never should have lied to you. There’s a lot I should have told you.’
Even as I say the words, I know I won’t tell her about Davy and what happened. I know Nathan won’t. Nor will Cam. I can’t be sure what Alex will want to do. It’ll be up to him and I won’t try to influence him, but I have a suspicion he’ll stay quiet. Davy Garnett’s bones will remain lost at sea and our secret will stay hidden with them. Too many years have passed and it helps nobody for Cam and I to end up in prison. Does this make me a bad person? I suspect it probably does. Perhaps, one day, when Alex is grown up and Martin has passed on and is safe from the distress and scandal, perhaps then it will be time.
Or perhaps not.
‘Over a bottle of wine, I think,’ Vicky says, rubbing my arm. ‘Right now you need to be with Alex. He’s so upset, but he wouldn’t tell me why.’
‘He had some difficult news.’
She waits for me to expand, but I don’t. It’s strange but I don’t feel any guilt about not telling her. It’s as if I’m at peace with it now. There was only one person who had to know the truth, only one person it’s relevant to, and that’s Alex. ‘Something else to discuss over wine,’ I say.
‘You and your secrets.’
‘How about being the first to know I’m leaving him?’
‘Leaving who? Nathan?’
I nod and, though she does her best to mask it, her pleasure is palpable. But then her smile fades and she folds her arms and gives me a hard stare. ‘Leaving him to be with Cam Stewart?’
Her question surprises me and I falter as I search for the words to answer her.
‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘It’s none of my business.’
‘No. No, it’s fine.’ I hesitate. ‘No. Not to be with Cam.’ And it’s true. I don’t want to be with Cam. ‘To be honest I’m looking forward to giving men a wide berth for a bit.’
She smiles, and I can see her holding her tongue, and realise there are lots of thoughts and feelings and opinions she’s keeping from me in return. ‘Look, if you and Alex need somewhere, you’re welcome at ours for as long as you need. And if you need any money, a loan or something, just ask.’
We hug each other and when she steps away from me, she dries the corners of her eyes with her sleeve and laughs. ‘God, look at us. Let’s not argue ever again, OK?’
I laugh through my own tears and nod.
‘Right, I’ll be in the car park when you’re ready to go.’
‘Haven’t you got to get back to the kids?’
‘Phil’s working from home. He can pick them up. They like that. He buys them sweets.’
As I walk away from Vicky and down the corridor thick with disinfectant and institutional food, my nerves jangle and grate. How can I face Alex? What if everything he’s heard has turned him against me? I would understand if that was the case, but even so, if he rejects me, what on earth will I do?
My mother’s privacy curtain is drawn around her cubicle. I approach quietly and peer though the gap in the tired, blue fabric. My heart splinters when I see them together. They are serene, connected, like two subjects in a painting called Tenderness. Alex has pulled a chair over and is sitting with her hand held in his. The oxygen mask has gone from her face and her expression is peaceful; aware, I’m certain, that her grandson is with her. It’s then I notice the storm glass, the delicate glass bird I took from her room at Heamoor, sitting on her bedside table beside a posy of flowers in a small vase.
As I step through the curtain I clear my throat. I’m surprised at how nervous I am and how terrified of rejection. When he looks at me my stomach clenches, his face is red and puffy, cheeks burning hot from crying, and clearly exhausted.
I sit at the foot of Mum’s bed and he drops his head, resting it on top of her frail hand. I reach out and rub his shoulder, wondering at how difficult it is to speak.
‘Are you OK?’
He turns his head, and tries to smile. His shoulders shrug imperceptibly and he sniffs.
I nod in the direction of the little glass bird, the crystals inside suspended like a moment in time. ‘Did you bring this to her?’
He glances at the bird then nods. ‘I saw it at home. I know how much she loves it and I thought it would make her happy. You can take it back if you want.’
I bite back tears. ‘No. Let’s keep it here with her.’
We are quiet for a while, until finally, he says, ‘Mum?’
‘Yes?’
‘I need to ask you something and I need you to tell me the truth.’
There is a breathless quavering to his voice, as if the words hovering on his lips are so terrifying they’re causing him actual physical harm, and it breaks me in two.
‘Of course.’ I’m trying my best to disguise my trembling nerves, but I know I’m not managing it. ‘Ask me anything.’
He glances at my mother then back at me and I watch as he plucks up the courage to spit the toxic words from his mouth.
‘I need to know…’ His voice is so quiet. ‘Do you hate me? Because if you do, I’d understand.’
His words slam into me. ‘Hate you? How could I possibly hate you?’
‘Because…’ Alex hesitates. I watch him squeeze my mother’s hand for reassurance, and wonder how much of it he’s told her peaceful sleeping figure, the perfect confidante. ‘Because of him.’
‘Oh, Alex, you must never think that, do you hear me? Never. Hate you?’ I put my arms around him and pull him gently in towards me. ‘There is nothing in this entire world I love, or have ever loved, more than you.’
He nods but the sadness seems to intensify rather than ease. He looks down at his hand and watches his fingers stroking Mum’s paper skin. ‘Do you,’ he says so softly I can barely hear him, ‘ever wish you’d got rid of me?’ He hesitates, his eyes flicking briefly up to mine. ‘When you found out you were pregnant. You must have thought about it. Do you ever wish you had?’
I don’t answer him straight away. He wants the truth and the truth is I did consider it a few times at the beginning of the pregnancy. I think if I’d been less scared and felt less alone, then there’s a possibility I might have. But it wasn’t that easy. There was a part of me that thought if I just ignored it, pretended it wasn’t happening, then perhaps the pregnancy would just go away. Of course it didn’t, and as my stomach swelled it was hard to separate what was happening inside me from what Davy Garnett did. But when Alex was born, things changed. Something kicked in. Perhaps the helplessness of this little tiny creature. There was nothing evil about him. And, though it surprised me, looking at my baby didn’t remind me of anything bad, instead it dulled the pain. I had something – someone – to take my mind off it all. A greater purpose.
‘No. I have never wished I got rid of you. As soon as you came into this world, the moment the midwife put you in my arms, I knew deep inside me you were supposed to be here. I believe you are my guardian angel and I believe it with my whole heart. You were given to me to give me something to live for,’ I whisper. ‘I’m not sure I’d still be here if it wasn’t for you. You are the most important thing in my life.’
He wipes fresh tears from his cheeks. ‘I was looking in the mirror earlier and wondering if I look like him. If I have his eyes or his nose? If we have the same colour hair?’ His eyes are wide and limpid, black eyelashes dampened by tears. ‘Do you remember it every time you see me? When you look at me do you see… him? You see? I don’t know how you can’t hate me. How can you not?’
Each word stings like a wasp and a lump of emotion lodges in my throat. ‘Listen to me, Alex. After that hellish night, I thought my life was over. Literally over. I was like a zombie. I went through the motions of living. I ate and slept, washed and dressed and cooked. And on more than one occasion I thought about going down to the cliffs and ending it all. But then you came along and you were everything. For I while I was depressed, suffering mentally, but then slowly you brought light back into my life and for the first time in almost a year everything made a bit more sense. When you were born I was no longer alone, and you were this beautiful, beautiful thing amongst all the ugliness.’
Tears fall like raindrops on to his lap.
‘I didn’t think about whose child you were. That became irrelevant. You were a gift and you saved me.’
I pull him close to me again and rest my chin on his head, then close my eyes and recall the softness of him when he was a baby. His smell. How helpless and vulnerable he was.
How pure.
‘And now, fifteen years later, look at you,’ I say as I lean back from him and brush his damp hair from his eyes. ‘You’ve grown into the most wonderful young man, brave and loyal, and you make me so proud. So, no, when I look at you I don’t see him. When I look at you all the trauma and pain and guilt which suffocates me disappears.’
I smile and lift his lowered chin with my finger so he’s forced to look at me.
‘But what if I’m like him? What if I’m bad?’
‘You aren’t bad. You’re the opposite of bad. You’re a good and kind and gentle person. You’re the type of boy who thinks to find his grandmother photographs to make her happy and picks her flowers and brings her a little glass storm bird to watch over her. You are loved by everybody who meets you. You have nothing to worry about. Do you understand?’
He purses his lips and sighs, unconvinced, as he dries his eyes with his sleeve.
‘I promise you, Alex. You aren’t bad.’
‘But…’ His voice has become strangled again. ‘But… back there, I had these… these thoughts. When I went for him, I… I wanted to kill him.’
A laugh explodes from me. ‘Oh, sweetheart,’ I say softly. ‘I’ve lost count of the times I’ve wanted to kill him. I’ve got close a few times. Once I fetched a carton of his rat poison from the greenhouse and tipped it all into a stew I was cooking. For about an hour I fantasised about him eating it, mouthful by mouthful, swallowing the lot, then keeling over, face first in what was left of it. Then I threw the whole lot away and started again. Made it exactly the same, but left out the poison.’
He regards me with a furrowed brow, trying to work out if I’m joking or not. I laugh as if I am and wink. At that moment, my phone starts vibrating in my pocket. When I look at the screen, it’s a number I don’t recognise. ‘Am I allowed to answer it on the ward?’
Alex shrugs so I accept the call.
‘Hello?’ I say, keeping my voice down.
‘Mrs Cardew?’
‘Speaking.’
‘It’s Hayle Veterinary here.’
My heart skips a beat. ‘Yes?’
‘We have a dog here. Her chip is registered to you. Have you lost your dog?’
‘Yes. Yes, we have. Cass. A collie cross with a wall eye. Is she hurt?’
‘Somebody’s brought her in. I’ll be honest, she’s not great, she’s eaten some sort of poison, but she’s in with the vet at the moment.’
‘Oh my god,’ I breathe. ‘Will she be OK?’
For a heart-stopping moment I expect the woman on the end of the phone to tell me Cass won’t make it, but then she says, ‘Yes, we think so. But I don’t want to get your hopes up. We’ll know more once the vet’s finished.’
‘Do you know where she was found?’
‘No, the man didn’t say. Just that he’d been out walking and discovered her. He didn’t stay long, just dropped her in at reception and left.’