Silent Truths (54 page)

In the end she said, ‘I felt so many things back then that I’m ashamed of now. I used them to make myself hate you, and punish you, for things that just weren’t your fault. I told myself that if you hadn’t come into our lives none of it would have happened. I was so torn apart by my own guilt, and loss, that no one else mattered, and as long as I blamed you I could avoid blaming myself –’ She broke off abruptly and felt the tension press harder into her head. ‘I did, and thought, some terrible things,’ she said. ‘I can’t change them now, but I need to tell you about them, so that you don’t have to go on living with a guilt that’s not yours.’

In the silence that followed she could hear her heart pounding above the patter of rain on the roof, and the low purr of the engine. The windows were steaming; the music was a thin haunting wail of viola. She couldn’t say any more. She needed him to respond now, even if it was to tell her to get out. Then realizing that his silence was probably saying just that, she pushed open the door and stepped out into the drizzling rain. She looked down at him, but he didn’t look back.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered brokenly.

Her heart was so heavy, and her throat so tight, that she didn’t even try to say more. She simply closed the door, walked down the short front path, and took out her keys. She expected to hear the engine rev up as he drove away, but he was still there, sitting alone with the terrible feelings she’d
just left him with. She desperately wanted to go back, but she forced herself not to look round. It was up to him now. There was no more she could do, so she let herself into the house, closed the door and leaned back against it, waiting for the sound of his car, as it drove off down the street. When it came, she sank to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, and burying her face to stifle the sound of her pain. But no matter how much he despised her now, it was never going to compare with how much she despised herself.

Feeling the cat rub against her, she scooped it up and drew it in close. Despair and anguish wrenched at her heart, as she remembered all her jealousy and self-torment, and relived those terrible early days of grief and shock. This never-ending guilt, combined with his rejection, was no less than she deserved, and who could blame him for driving away when she’d just told him how hard she’d tried to make people hate him? She hadn’t succeeded, but it was enough that she’d been malicious and dishonest enough to try. How disgusted he must be by her now, knowing how cowardly and cruel she really was.

Letting the cat go, she wrapped her arms round her head and tried to imagine what it was going to be like from here. Could they continue working together? They were so embroiled in this story now, that neither one of them would want to let go, and in truth she was glad, for it meant that on one level it would keep them together. On all others, she had no idea what would happen. She’d hoped they would talk, that somehow they’d clear the air in a way that would help them eventually to
forgive and forget, then finally move on. But now they were in this limbo, with only half the truth spoken, no anger or recriminations aired, no explanations given, nor apologies or forgiveness offered. It was all so unfinished, yet he’d given her no encouragement to go further, had shown no willingness to keep her in the car, or come into the house with her.

Getting to her feet, she was about to go into the bedroom when she heard a car coming down the street. She stood very still, hoping and praying, fearing and dreading. But it was him, she knew it; she just didn’t know what this might mean.

The night fell into silence as the engine died. Then she heard the car door closing and his footsteps on the path. She walked to the door and opened it before he could knock.

For a moment he only looked at her. Then, reaching for her, he pulled her into his arms. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, holding her tight. ‘I’m sorry I drove away. Sorry that you’ve had to go through what you have. It’s been harder for you than anyone. I know that.’

‘No, it’s me who should be sorry,’ she said, clinging to him as he tightened his embrace. ‘What I did to you, the way I let you take the blame –’

‘Was understandable. You were in pain and grief, you needed to lash out, and I should have realized it sooner.’

He took her inside and closed the door. Then leading her through to the bedroom, he lay down on the bed with her, and continued to hold her. ‘We needed to do this a long time ago,’ he said into the darkness.

‘Yes,’ she whispered, her voice muffled by his shoulder, her senses swimming in so many emotions it wasn’t possible for one to dominate the others.

They lay quietly for a long, long time, feeling the strength and comfort of each other, as the pain and need of the past year surfaced in their hearts.

In the end, she said, ‘Can you forgive me?’

‘Of course. Why do you think I’m here?’ Then drawing back to look at her in the soft shades of moonlight, he said, ‘Have you never discussed any of this with your parents?’

‘No. But I should. They’re ready to forgive you, and I want them to know that you weren’t to blame. It’s me –’

‘Sssh,’ he said, lifting a hand to her face. ‘No one’s to blame. I know it’s hard, and I haven’t done too well with it myself, but hearing you blame yourself makes me realize that what’s really important is understanding and forgiving, and that includes forgiving Lysette.’

She nodded and closed her eyes. ‘You’re right, I do need to forgive her, because I’ve been so angry with her. But I loved her so much, and I didn’t feel I had the right to be angry when I’d let her down so badly, and when I knew she’d forgive me anything.’ She took a breath, then covered his hand with her own. ‘She was so precious to me, to us all, and she loved us so much that I still can’t believe she’d hurt us like that.’

‘Stop,’ he said gently. ‘We’ve survived it, and we’re here. As your father said at the funeral, the only way past this is through it. And now we’re coming through. There are always going to be
things we regret, but knowing her as you did, can you honestly believe she’d want you to go on suffering the way you are? She didn’t kill herself to hurt you, or me, or anyone, she did it to end the torment of being here at all. She couldn’t cope with the world’s tragedies, or the cold brutality of people. It confused her. You know that. All she ever wanted was everyone to be happy, and love one another.’

‘She wasn’t capable of wishing anyone anything else. Even if it caused her pain, she’d still want someone to be happy.’

‘Especially you,’ he said.

Swallowing hard, she turned to sit up and hugged her knees. She felt dazed by what was happening; caught up in grief, yet so weakened by other emotions that she hardly knew what she was feeling. ‘Did you ever love her?’ she asked, resting her cheek on her arms and staring at the wall.

‘Of course. It was impossible not to.’

When she tilted her head down, she could see him. ‘She adored you.’

‘Which was why it was so hard living with her. She refused to see my faults, just blinded herself to everything that wasn’t good, as though it would make me as pure in spirit as she was.’

She smiled mistily. ‘She used to say the same about you, that you were hard to live with.’

‘I’m sure that’s true, but probably worse with her, because when the time came, which it did long before she died, I just couldn’t make her let go. God knows I tried, but I just couldn’t make her understand that there was no future for us.’

‘The other woman –’

‘There was no other woman. It was all I could think of to make her accept it was over.’

Laurie’s eyes closed as her heart burned with all that had resulted from the lie. But, of course, there was no way he could have known it would end the way it had, even though Lysette had threatened it. After all, she’d made the same threat during that last phone call to her sister, and Laurie hadn’t believed her either. So had she done it to show them both? No. It simply wasn’t in Lysette’s nature to do something so cruel, or certainly not consciously.

Lying back down beside him she looked into his face and felt the enormity of her feelings swelling inside her. She wanted to touch him, yet was afraid to. She was so raw and fragile, as though she might break apart. ‘What do you think about, when you think about her?’ she asked.

He smiled and looked past her as though able to see his own thoughts. ‘Dandelions,’ he said. ‘She was so delicate, and ethereal, that sometimes I used to think that, like a dandelion, she might just float away.’

Laurie smiled shakily. ‘We always used to call her the fairy when we were young. Mum even made her some wings once.’

‘I’ve seen the photos,’ he reminded her. ‘And I’ve seen them of you too. The little tomboy in her tree house, or helping Dad under the car, riding a bike that was too big, and showing off a trout she’d landed all by herself.’

She laughed and rolled her eyes.

He touched her face, smoothing her jaw with his thumb. ‘Yes, I loved Lysette,’ he said, ‘but in many
ways it was like loving a child whose expectations you could never live up to.’

She continued to look at him, wondering if he was going to say more, longing for him to, and allowing her eyes to show the needs of her heart and her body. She could feel his breath on her face, his fingers touching her, moving into her hair. His eyes were searching her face, and her lips parted as she took a breath. Then her heart seemed to stop as, pulling her to him, he covered her mouth with his own and kissed her with more tenderness, more feeling than she’d ever known. There was nothing else in the world beyond the sheer beauty and intimacy that was embracing them; nothing stronger than the need for more as it flowed through her in silent currents of desire. She heard the moan of her own voice echo in his throat as he pulled her closer, and his mouth increased its pressure. The longing inside her was so pure, yet febrile, she could hardly contain it.

When finally he let her go it was as though she’d just been released from a fast-flowing current. Their eyes remained on each other’s, seeming to drink in the moment until, smiling, she said, ‘What are you thinking?’

A few seconds ticked by as he continued to look at her. ‘I’m thinking,’ he responded, ‘that I should go now.’

Shock and disappointment seared through her. ‘You don’t have to,’ she said before she could stop herself.

He smiled, pressed his lips to her forehead and got up from the bed.

She got up too, desperate to hide her confusion,
stunned by the unexpectedness of this when he’d just kissed her the way he had.

‘Don’t blame yourself any more,’ he said gently. ‘Let it go now. It’s time to live your life.’

His words were like bludgeons on her heart that only moments ago had been so full of hope. She nodded, and somehow forced herself to smile. ‘Thanks,’ she said, and immediately wished she hadn’t. She just wanted him to go now; to leave her alone with this excruciating shame before she did something to compound it even further.

When they reached the door he tried to tilt her face up so he could see it, but she moved her head aside.

‘We’ve both got a lot of thinking to do,’ he said.

Inside she was screaming.
Just go! Don’t keep standing there giving me even more false hope than you already have
.

When at last she closed the door behind him, she took herself back into the bedroom and stared down at the tousled bed. She could hardly believe what had happened. What a fool! What a pathetic, self-deluding idiot! How was she ever going to face him again? She didn’t even want to think about what must be going through his mind now; it was all just too humiliating to bear. She covered her face with her hands. This was unthinkable, insufferable, and the fact that Rhona had made the mistake too was no comfort at all.

Going into the bathroom she looked at her face in the mirror. It was pale and drawn, and dampened by tears. She shook her head in despair. Had she really been so stupid? Had she honestly believed they’d just fall into each other’s arms declaring love
and forgiveness, then start out for the sunset, as though some sudden and miraculous healing had taken place? She had to get a grip on reality here; force herself to be rational and do what she could to rescue some dignity from the shame. If she didn’t, there was just no way she could continue with the story, and hard as it might be to carry on seeing him now, she just wasn’t prepared to give it up. And besides, she didn’t really have to feel quite so bad, for she hadn’t actually come right out and told him how she felt. OK, he probably sensed it, but it had taken two to make that kiss happen, and he was the one who’d initiated it, not her. So what was she supposed to be thinking now?

Chapter 22

MARCUS GATLING WAS
standing at a wide, mesh-covered window, looking out over the undulating splendour of the vast green veldt that formed part of the highly exclusive, and privately owned game reserve, whose sprawling acreage curled itself around the far south-western borders of the Kruger National Park. On the near shore of the watering hole below, a small herd of impala was drinking from the murky waters, while the interested eyes and snout of a hippopotamus broke the surface nearby, like smooth wet rocks glistening in the evening light. The sun, way in the distance, was descending rapidly towards the horizon, where stark, jagged tree limbs and the dark, tilting shapes of giraffes and other animals, created a remote kind of theatre against a flame-orange backdrop that was slowly fading into night.

Behind Gatling, in the lavishly furnished lounge of the reserve’s main lodge, where the trophy heads of lions and buffalo gazed ferociously down on the leopard- and cheetah-skin rugs, were his
wife, Leonora, Nicholas Sabilio, the reserve’s South African owner; Abe Kleinstein, Hank Wingate, Hans Brunner and Marion le Grecque. They comprised seven out of the twenty-two premier syndicate members, all other participators being at varying levels below, and spreading out through the globe with the same power and complexity as the dominant beasts out there stalked, exploited and conquered the fertile plains of the bush.

Everyone was silent as the tape played, filling the room with the slurring, yet defiant tones of Beth Ashby, as she left the damning message on her best friend’s answering machine. It wasn’t the first time any of them had heard it – copies had been made and dispatched to each of them to alert them to the urgency of this meeting – this was simply a rerun to refresh their memories and focus their minds. However, it wasn’t by any means the only item on the agenda, for equal priority was being given to Elliot Russell and Tom Maykin’s investigation, which had lately started gaining some potentially catastrophic momentum.