The Girl on the Cliff (3 page)

A week later, at their TriBeCa apartment, the intercom had announced the arrival of a Bloomingdale’s van, delivering the contents of an entire nursery. Grania, too superstitious to have the goods placed inside the loft, had directed them down to the basement, where they would be stored until nearer the time. As she’d watched the assortment of boxes being stacked into a corner, Grania knew Elaine had forgotten nothing.

‘Bang goes our trip out to Bloomie’s to choose a cot, or which brand of diapers I’d like,’ Grania had murmured ungratefully to Matt later that evening.

‘Mom’s only trying to help us, Grania,’ Matt had answered defensively. ‘She knows I hardly earn anything and your income is healthy, but sporadic. Just maybe I should consider going into Dad’s business after all, now that little one is on the way.’ Matt had indicated Grania’s tiny but visible bump.

‘No, Matt!’ Grania had expostulated. ‘We agreed you never would. You’d have no life or freedom at all if you went to work for your dad. You know how overpowering he can be.’

Grania gave up trying to dislodge the grass from its
roots and stared out to sea instead. She smiled grimly at the understatement she’d used in that conversation with Matt. Bob was a full-time control freak when it came to his son. Although she understood the disappointment he must feel that Matt had no interest in taking over the family investment business, she couldn’t understand his lack of interest or pride in his son’s career. Matt was doing very well, and had become a renowned authority in the field of child psychology. He held a Chair at Columbia University, and was constantly asked as guest lecturer to other universities across the States. Bob also patronised Grania constantly, making small but pointed comments about her upbringing and level of education.

Looking back, Grania was at least relieved they’d refused to accept handouts from Matt’s parents. Even in the early days, when she was trying to make her name as a sculptor and Matt was completing his Ph.D. and they’d struggled to pay the rent on their tiny one-bedroomed apartment, she’d been paranoid. And with good reason, Grania thought; the shiny, immaculately dressed Connecticut girls whom she’d met through Matt and his family could not be in greater contrast to an unsophisticated, convent-educated girl from a small Irish backwater. Maybe it had been destined to fail …

‘Hello.’

Grania jumped at the sound of the voice. She looked around her, but could see no one.

‘Hello, I said.’

The voice was behind her. She turned one hundred and eighty degrees to view the owner. And there was Aurora standing at her back. Thankfully, dressed today in a pair
of jeans, an anorak that hung from her thin frame and a woolly hat hiding all but the occasional wisp of her magnificent red hair. Her face was tiny and prettily heart-shaped, her huge eyes and full pink lips out of proportion to the miniature canvas in which they were set.

‘Hello, Aurora.’

Grania’s greeting engendered a look of surprise in Aurora’s eyes. ‘How do you know what my name is?’

‘I saw you yesterday.’

‘Did you? Where?’

‘Here on the cliffs.’

‘Really?’ Aurora frowned. ‘I don’t remember being here yesterday. And certainly not speaking to you.’

‘You didn’t speak to me, Aurora. I saw you, that’s all,’ Grania explained.

‘Then how do you know my name?’ Aurora spoke in a high, clipped English accent.

‘I asked my mother who the little girl with the beautiful long red hair might be. And she told me.’

‘And how would she know?’ the child asked imperiously.

‘She’s lived in the village all her life. She said you’d gone away years ago.’

‘We had. But now we’re back.’ Aurora looked out to sea and swept her arms to embrace the coastline. ‘And I love it here, don’t you?’

Grania had the feeling Aurora’s question was a statement with which she was not allowed to disagree. ‘Of course I love it. It’s where I was born and where I grew up.’

‘So,’ Aurora settled herself gracefully on the grass next to Grania and her blue eyes bored into her. ‘What is
your
name?’

‘Grania, Grania Ryan.’

‘Well, I can’t say I’ve ever heard of you.’

Grania wanted to smile at Aurora’s adult way of expressing herself. ‘I suppose there’s no reason why you should have done. I’ve been away from here almost ten years.’

Aurora’s face lit up with pleasure and she clapped her small hands together. ‘Then that means we have both come back to a place we love at the same time.’

‘I suppose it does.’

‘So, we can keep each other company! You can be my new friend.’

‘That’s very kind of you, Aurora.’

‘Well, you must be lonely.’

‘Maybe you’re right …’ Grania smiled. ‘And what about you? Are you lonely here too?’

‘Sometimes, yes.’ Aurora shrugged. ‘Daddy always has so much work to do and is often away, and there’s only the housekeeper to play with. And she isn’t very good at games.’ Aurora wrinkled her delicately freckled retroussé nose in displeasure.

‘Oh dear,’ commented Grania, for want of anything better to say. She was both disarmed and discomfited by the child’s quaintness. ‘You must have friends at school, surely?’

‘I don’t go to school. My father likes me at home with him. I have a governess instead.’

‘So where is she today?’

‘Daddy and I decided we didn’t like her, so we left her behind in London.’ Aurora giggled suddenly. ‘We simply packed up and left.’

‘I see,’ said Grania, although she most certainly didn’t.

‘Do you have a job?’ Aurora asked.

‘Yes, I do. I’m a sculptor.’

‘Isn’t that someone who makes statues out of clay?’

‘You’re along the right lines, yes,’ answered Grania.

‘Oh, do you know about papier mâché?’ Aurora’s face lit up. ‘I
love
papier mâché! I had a nanny once who showed me how to make bowls, and we’d paint them and then I’d give them to Daddy as a present. Would you come and make some papier mâché with me? Please.’

Grania was charmed by Aurora’s eagerness and genuine excitement. ‘All right,’ she found herself nodding. ‘I don’t see why not.’

‘Will you come now?’ Aurora grabbed at her hand. ‘We could go up to the house and make something for Daddy before he goes away.’ Aurora reached out her hand and tugged at Grania’s hoodie. ‘Please say yes!’

‘No, Aurora, I can’t just now. I’d need to go and get the things to make it. And besides, my mammy might think I’d got lost,’ Grania added.

Grania watched Aurora’s face fall, saw the light disappear from her eyes and her body sag. ‘I don’t have a mummy. I did once, but she died.’

‘I’m so sorry, Aurora.’ Instinctively, Grania reached out and patted the child gently on her shoulder. ‘You must miss her a lot.’

‘I do. She was the most beautiful, special person in the world. Daddy always says she was an angel, and that’s why the other angels came to take her, so she could go to heaven where she belonged.’

Grania quailed at Aurora’s obvious pain. ‘I’m sure your daddy is right,’ she agreed. ‘And at least you have him.’

‘Yes, I do,’ agreed Aurora, ‘and he’s the best father in the world, and the most handsome. I know if you saw him, you’d fall in love with him. Every lady does.’

‘Well then, I shall have to meet him, won’t I?’ Grania smiled.

‘Yes.’ Aurora jumped up suddenly from the grass. ‘I have to go now. You will be here again at the same time tomorrow.’

This was not a request, it was an order.

‘I …’

‘Good.’ Spontaneously, Aurora launched herself into Grania’s arms and hugged her. ‘Bring all the things for the papier mâché, then we can go up to my house and spend the morning making bowls for Daddy. Bye bye, Grania, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Goodbye.’ Grania waved, and watched as Aurora skipped and danced like a young gazelle along the cliffs. Even in her anorak and trainers, her movements were graceful.

When Aurora had disappeared from view, Grania drew in a long breath, feeling almost as if she’d been under an enchantment; held in thrall by a small, ethereal being. She rose, shaking her head to clear it, wondering what her mother would say when she announced that tomorrow she was going up to Dunworley House to play with Aurora Lisle.

That evening, when her father and brother left the table – and their used plates and cutlery upon it for her mother to clear – Grania helped Kathleen with the washing-up.

‘I met Aurora Lisle again today,’ said Grania casually as she dried the plates.

Kathleen raised an eyebrow. ‘And was she out in her nightie again, masquerading as a spirit?’

‘No, she was fully dressed. She’s an odd little girl, isn’t she?’

‘Well now, I wouldn’t be knowing how she was.’ Kathleen’s mouth was set in a firm, hard line.

‘I said I might go up to her house and make some papier mâché with her. She seems lonely,’ Grania volunteered.

There was a pause before Kathleen said; ‘I’ve told you, Grania, warned you not to get involved with that family. But you’re a big girl now and I can’t stop you.’

‘But, Mam, she’s simply a lonely, sweet little girl. She seems lost … she has no mother. Surely, it can’t do any harm to spend a couple of hours with her?’

‘I’m not discussing it again with you, Grania. You’ve heard what I think and you have to make your own decisions. And that’s an end to it.’

The sound of the telephone ringing broke through the ensuing silence. Grania made no move to answer it and
nor did her mother. On the seventh ring Kathleen put her hands on her hips. ‘You’ll be knowing who that is, I’m sure.’

‘No,’ said Grania disingenuously, ‘why should I, Mam? It could be anyone.’

‘We both know who that is at this time of night, my girl, and I’m too embarrassed to be speaking to him again.’

The telephone continued to ring, the abrasive urgency of the sound in direct contrast with mother and daughter’s contrived stillness. Finally it stopped and the two women stared into the whites of each other’s eyes.

‘I’ll not be having this, Grania, this rudeness under my roof. I’ve run out of things to say to him. What has that poor man done to you anyway, to deserve this kind of treatment? You’ve suffered a loss, but that’s hardly his fault now, is it?’

‘I’m sorry, Mam,’ Grania shook her head, ‘but you just don’t understand.’

‘Well, that’s the first thing you’ve said that I agree with. So why don’t you tell me?’

‘Mam! Please! I can’t …’ Grania wrung her hands in frustration. ‘I just
can’t
.’

‘To my mind, Grania, that’s not good enough. Whatever’s happened is affecting everyone in the house and we all need to be put right on the situation. I –’

‘It’s Matt, darlin’,’ said her father as he strolled into the kitchen holding the phone. ‘We’ve had a nice chat now, but I think it’s you he wants to speak to.’ John grinned at her apologetically and offered her the handset.

Grania threw her father a killer stare and snatched the
handset from him. She moved out of the kitchen and headed up the stairs towards her bedroom.

‘Grania? Is that you?’ The soft, familiar tones of Matt’s voice brought an immediate lump to her throat as she closed the door behind her and perched on the end of the bed.

‘Matt, I asked you not to contact me.’

‘I know you did, baby, but Jesus! I can’t figure out what’s going on. What have I done? Why have you left me?’

Grania ground her free hand into her jean-covered thigh to keep her calm.

‘Grania? Are you still there, honey? Please, if you can explain what it is I’m meant to have done then perhaps I can defend myself.’

Still Grania did not answer.

‘Grania,
please
, talk to me. This is Matt, the man who loves you. Who you’ve shared a life with for eight years. And I’m going insane here, not knowing why you’ve gone.’

Grania took a deep breath in. ‘Please don’t call me. I don’t want to speak to you. And it’s upsetting my parents, you bothering them every night.’

‘Grania, please, I understand it was real hard on you losing the baby, but we can try again, surely? I love you, honey, and I’ll do anything to …’

‘Goodbye, Matt.’ Grania pressed the appropriate button to end the call, unable to hear any more. She sat where she was, staring unseeingly at the faded flowers on the wallpaper of her childhood bedroom. It was a pattern she had looked at night after night as she’d indulged in her girlish dreams of the future. In which her own Prince
Charming would appear and carry her off to a life of perfect love. Matt had been all those things and more … she’d adored him from the first moment she’d set eyes upon him. And it
had
been a fairy tale.

Grania lay down on the bed and hugged her pillow. Now, her belief that love could conquer all – could leap over any boundary, reign victorious over any problem that life might present, and emerge triumphant – was gone.

Matt Connelly slumped on to the sofa, his cell phone still resting in the palm of his hand.

In the past two weeks since Grania had upped and left, Matt had wracked his brains to think of any reason why she should have gone. None was forthcoming. What could he do to solve this? Grania had made it blatantly clear she currently wanted nothing to do with him … was their relationship seriously over?

‘Goddammit!’ Matt hurled the cell phone across the room, watching the battery splay out of the back of it. Yes, he understood how devastated she was about the miscarriage, but surely that was no reason to cut
him
out of her life too? Perhaps he should just get on a plane and go to her in Ireland. But what if she wouldn’t see him? What if he made it worse?

Matt stood up, coming to an instant decision. As he marched towards his laptop, he knew anything was better than the uncertainty he was suffering just now. Even if Grania told him point-blank it was all over, it had to be preferable to being in the dark.

Matt logged on and started exploring flights between New York and Dublin. As he did so, the intercom buzzed.
He ignored it. He wasn’t expecting any visitors and certainly wouldn’t welcome any either. It continued to buzz insistently until, out of sheer irritation, Matt walked across the sitting room and pressed the answerphone. ‘Who is it?’