The Girl on the Cliff (10 page)

Before she climbed into bed that evening, Grania walked down the corridor and opened the door to the bedroom that led to the balcony where she’d found Aurora last night. Switching the light on, she recognised a faint hint of perfume hanging in the air. Grania’s eyes strayed to the elegant three-mirrored dressing table, on which were placed the accoutrements of femininity. She approached it and picked up a beautiful ivory hairbrush, the initials ‘L L’ engraved on to the back of it. She turned it over, and saw a long, red-gold hair still wound around the bristles. Grania shuddered – she’d always found what the dead left behind them strange and unsettling.

She turned away from the dressing table and looked at the bed, covered in a lace counterpane and dressed prettily with pillows, as if still waiting for its former occupant to climb into it. She looked at the heavy, mahogany wardrobe and, unable to stop herself, walked to it and turned the key. As she’d suspected, Lily’s clothes still hung there, and the smell of the perfume that pervaded the room was strong on all of the garments.

‘You are dead … gone …’

Grania spoke the words out loud to convince herself of the fact. Leaving the room, she removed the key from the lock then relocked it from the outside. She walked back down the corridor and stowed the key in her bedside drawer. Climbing into bed, she pondered whether, for Aurora’s sake, it was a good thing that her mother’s bedroom had obviously been left untouched since she died. It was the equivalent to a shrine, invoking and perpetrating the idea that Lily still lived.

‘Poor little thing,’ Grania whispered to herself sleepily. And thought that, even if her own mother’s view of the Lisle family was over-dramatised, there was no doubt that the house and its occupants were decidedly strange.

Grania jumped awake and saw her bedside light was still on. She heard footsteps outside her door and tiptoed to open it. The small figure was standing at the end of the corridor, trying to turn the handle to her mother’s bedroom.

Grania switched the landing light on and walked towards her. ‘Aurora,’ she said softly as she put a hand on the little girl’s shoulder, ‘it’s me, Grania.’

Aurora turned towards her, her face full of anxiety and confusion.

‘Darling, you’ve been dreaming again, come back to bed.’ Grania tried to steer her away from the door, but Aurora shrugged her off and turned back to the locked handle, twisting it with growing frustration. ‘Aurora, wake up! You’re dreaming,’ she repeated.

‘Why won’t it open? Mummy’s calling me, I have to go to her. Why can’t I get in?’

‘Aurora,’ Grania shook her gently. ‘You must wake up, darling.’ She tried to prise the little girl’s fingers from the knob, finally succeeding. ‘Come on now, sweetheart, I’ll take you back to bed and tuck you in.’

All the fight suddenly left Aurora’s body and she collapsed against Grania, sobbing. ‘She was calling me, I heard her … Grania, I heard her.’

Grania felt Aurora shivering, swept her up in her arms and carried her down the corridor and into bed. She gently wiped Aurora’s tears from her face and stroked her hair.

‘Darling Aurora, don’t you see that this is all a dream? It isn’t real, I promise you.’

‘But I hear her, Grania, I hear her voice. She asks me to go to her.’

‘I know, darling, and I do believe you. Lots of people have vivid dreams, especially about people they’ve lost and miss very much. But Aurora, darling, your mummy has gone, gone to heaven.’

‘Sometimes,’ Aurora wiped her nose with her hand, ‘I think she wants me to go to heaven with her. She says she’s lonely and needs me to keep her company. They think I’m mad … but I’m not, Grania, I’m really not.’

‘I know you’re not,’ Grania soothed. ‘Now, why don’t you close your eyes and I’ll stay here until you’ve gone to sleep.’

‘Yes, I do feel a little tired …’ Aurora did as she was bid and Grania stroked her forehead. ‘I love you, Grania, I feel safe when you’re here,’ she murmured.

Finally, Aurora drifted off to sleep, and Grania tiptoed back to her own room, feeling exhausted herself.

Grania drove a nervous Aurora into Clonakilty the following afternoon. ‘Really, if you don’t like the ballet class, you never have to go again,’ she comforted.

‘I know I will like the dancing bit, it’s the girls staring at me that I’m frightened of,’ Aurora admitted. ‘Other girls my age don’t seem to like me.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true, Aurora. And as my mother says, you should always try something once.’

‘Your mother sounds nice,’ said Aurora as she climbed out of the car. ‘Do you think we could go down to your farm one day, so I can meet her?’

‘I’m sure that can be arranged. As a matter of fact, I’m seeing my mam for a cup of tea while you’re having your lesson.’ Grania shepherded her through the door of the village hall.

Miss Elva, Grania’s old ballet mistress, whom she had spoken to earlier, kissed Grania and gave Aurora a warm smile. ‘Grania, ’tis grand to see you. And this must be Aurora.’ Miss Elva knelt down in front of the child and took her hands. ‘You do know, don’t you, that you are named after the beautiful princess in the ballet of
The Sleeping Beauty
?’

Aurora, wide-eyed, shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t.’

‘Now then,’ Miss Elva offered her hand, ‘you come along with me, and I’ll introduce you to some of the other
girls in your class. We’ll say goodbye to Grania and be seeing her back in about an hour.’

‘All right.’ Aurora shyly put her hand in Miss Elva’s and followed her through the doors into the studio.

Grania left the building and walked along the narrow, bustling street, the houses painted in gay colours, as was the way in Ireland. She saw her mother through the window, already sipping a cup of tea in O’Donovan’s Café.

‘Hello, Mam, how are you?’ Grania kissed her and sat down opposite her.

‘Grand altogether. You?’

‘I’m good, Mam.’ Grania surveyed the short menu and ordered another pot of tea and a scone.

‘So now, you say the child has gone off for her first dancing class?’

‘Yes and I really think, although I’m no expert, that she has the potential to be very good. She’s so graceful, Mam, I sometimes find myself staring at her just because of the beautiful way she moves.’

‘Well, of course,’ Kathleen nodded sagely. ‘I’d be thinking she’d have a gift in that direction. It’s in the blood,’ she sighed.

‘Really?’ Grania raised an eyebrow as her tea arrived. ‘Was her mother a dancer?’

‘No, but her grandmother was. And, in her day, very famous.’

‘I’m surprised Aurora hasn’t mentioned it.’ Grania bit into her scone.

‘Maybe she doesn’t know. So, how has it been up at Dunworley House?’

‘It’s … fine.’ Grania needed to talk to her mother
about Aurora’s night-time wanderings and the strange atmosphere in the house, but didn’t wish to provide further fuel to feed Kathleen’s displeasure. ‘Aurora seems to be relaxing and coming out of her shell with me. As you know, I bought a TV for her, and she’s been enjoying that. I feel she needs –’ Grania searched for the appropriate phrase – ‘some normality. She seems to have been isolated from the outside world for so much of her life and I don’t think it’s healthy. The loneliness gives her far too much time to be in her own head, and her imagination to run riot.’

‘Imagination, is it?’ Kathleen gave a wry smile. ‘I’d say she’s been talking about seeing her mother, hasn’t she?’

‘Yes … but we both know she’s dreaming.’

‘So then, you haven’t spied her mammy standing on the cliffs yet?’ There was a twinkle in Kathleen’s eye.

‘Mam, be serious! You are joking, aren’t you?’

‘Not wholly, Grania, no. For myself, I’ve never seen her, but I could tell you some from the village who swear they have.’

‘Well, of course, it’s ridiculous.’ Grania nervously took a sip of her tea. ‘But the problem is, I think Aurora really believes her mother
does
appear to her. She … sleepwalks, and when I try to wake her, she tells me her mother is calling to her.’

Kathleen crossed herself out of habit and shook her head. ‘Well now, what came over her father to bring her back here, I really can’t think. Anyway, it’s not our business to wonder. Although you’re the one left dealing with the poor little mite.’

‘I don’t mind. I love her and I want to try and help her
if I can,’ Grania replied defensively. ‘So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?’

‘Well now, Grania,’ Kathleen leaned forward and lowered her voice, ‘I had a word with your daddy, so I did, and he thinks it’s best if I tell you part of the reason why I’m finding your involvement with that family so unsettling.’ Kathleen reached inside her shopping bag and pulled out a thick wad of letters.

Grania could see from the browning edges that the letters were old. ‘What are they, Mam? Who are they from?’

‘They are from Mary, my grandmother.’

Grania frowned, wracking her brains for a memory. ‘Did I ever meet her?’

‘No, sadly. To be sure, she was a wonderful woman and I was very fond of her. Some would say she was ahead of her time. She was feisty and independent, and I’d go as far as to be saying that you take after her, Grania.’ Kathleen grinned.

‘I’ll take that as a compliment, Mam.’

‘So you should, and you certainly look like her.’ Kathleen opened the top envelope and passed Grania a small sepia photograph. ‘There she is, that is your great-granny.’

Grania studied the picture and couldn’t disagree. In a bonnet and old-fashioned clothes, it was her own features and colouring that stared back at her. ‘When was this taken, Mam?’

‘I’d say Mary was in her twenties then, so it was probably taken in London.’

‘London? What was Mary doing there?’

‘Well now, that’s what you’ll discover from the letters.’

‘You want me to read them?’

‘I’m not forcing you, but if you want to start to understand where all this began with the Lisles, I’d suggest you do. Besides, it might wile away some lonely nights sitting up at the big house by yourself. And it’d be a grand place to read them too, seeing as Mary herself spent time there.’

‘So, you say it’ll explain everything?’

‘No,’ Kathleen shook her head. ‘I’m not saying that. That’s only the start. It’d be up to me to tell you the rest.’ She checked her watch. ‘I’d better be off.’

‘And me.’ Grania signalled for the waitress. ‘You go, Mam, I’ll pay for this.’

‘Thank you, Grania.’ Kathleen stood up and kissed her daughter. ‘Take care and I’ll be seeing you.’

‘That reminds me, would you really mind if I brought Aurora down to the farm? She’s desperate to meet you and see the animals.’

‘What harm, I suppose?’ Kathleen sighed in surrender. ‘Just give me a buzz before you come.’

‘Thanks, Mam,’ Grania smiled. She paid the bill, tucked the thick wad of envelopes into her handbag and set off back down the street to collect Aurora. When she arrived, she saw the other girls had left the studio to get changed, but Aurora was still inside with Miss Elva. The teacher saw Grania peering through the glass panes and said something to Aurora, who nodded. Miss Elva then came out of the studio to speak to Grania.

‘How did she get on?’ asked Grania eagerly.

‘Well now, that child,’ Miss Elva lowered her voice as her other students started to file out of the changing room to leave the building, ‘is amazing. You say she has never had a ballet class in her life?’

‘No,’ Grania shook her head, ‘that’s what she tells me, and I don’t see why she would lie.’

‘Aurora has
everything
one would look for in a future ballerina. A natural turnout, a high instep, perfect physical proportions … to be honest now, Grania, I can hardly believe what I’ve just seen.’

‘You think she should continue?’

‘Absolutely. And fast, too. She’s already four years behind, and once her body starts to mature it will be that much harder for her to learn. But this isn’t the right class for Aurora to be in. She’ll have outgrown them all in a couple more sessions. I don’t know what the situation is at home, but I’d certainly be prepared to give her a couple of private lessons every week.’

‘The question is, is that what Aurora wants to do?’ asked Grania.

‘Well, I was asking her just now what she thought and she seemed very eager. Grania, once that child has grasped some technique, I can see her getting a place at the Royal Ballet School in London in a couple of years’ time. Perhaps I could speak to her parents?’

‘Aurora’s mother is dead and her father is abroad. I’m in charge of her. Why don’t I have a chat with Aurora and see if she’s happy to continue?’

Miss Elva nodded as Aurora, bored of waiting by herself in the studio, joined them outside.

‘Hello, sweetheart, Miss Elva says you enjoyed yourself. Did you?’ asked Grania.

‘Oh, yes!’ Aurora’s eyes were alight with pleasure. ‘I loved it,’ she said.

‘Good, so you want to come back again?’

‘Of course. Miss Elva and I have already discussed it, haven’t we? I can come back, can’t I, Grania?’

‘I’m sure you can, yes. But perhaps I should speak to Daddy to make sure that’s all right.’

‘OK,’ Aurora accepted reluctantly. ‘Goodbye, Miss Elva, and thank you.’

‘Hope to see you next week, Aurora,’ Miss Elva called as Grania and Aurora left and walked back to the car.

That evening, Aurora was full of excitement about the class, showing Grania the positions she had learned, pirouetting and jumping and pointing her feet around the kitchen as Grania cooked them supper.

‘When can we go to Cork city to get my ballet things? Can we go tomorrow?’

‘Perhaps,’ said Grania after supper, ‘but I really feel I should ask your daddy about this first.’

‘If it’s what I want,’ Aurora pouted, ‘he won’t say no, will he?’

‘I’m sure he won’t, but I just need to make sure. Story?’

‘Yes, please,’ Aurora said eagerly as Grania took her hand and they climbed the stairs. ‘Do you know
The Sleeping Beauty
, about the princess I’m named after? I’d love to dance that part one day,’ she said dreamily.

‘And I’m sure you will, sweetheart.’

After Aurora had subsided, Grania went downstairs and opened the door to Alexander’s study. She checked the contact list for his phone number and dialled it. His voicemail clicked in immediately.