Authors: Lucinda Riley
‘Yes, probably.’
‘Shall I bring up this supper now or later?’ Mary asked him.
David looked at his watch and saw it was almost half past seven. ‘Why don’t you leave it in here instead of carting it all into the dining room, and we can come in and pick at what
we want? You’ve had a long day, Mary, and it’s about time you put your feet up.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Completely.’
‘All right then, Master David, I will,’ she said gratefully. ‘And thank you for my cashmere cardigan. I’ve never owned anything so luxurious.’
‘You deserve it, Mary. I don’t know what this family would do without you,’ David smiled at her before leaving the kitchen to go upstairs and check on Greta. He knocked on the
door of her bedroom and, receiving no response, after a second try he opened it quietly.
‘Greta? Greta?’ The room was in darkness and David fumbled on the wall to find the light switch. There was no one there and, judging by the neatly made bed, Greta hadn’t been
up to take a nap. David’s heart somersaulted. He searched all the upstairs rooms, and asked Ava if she’d seen her grandmother. She hadn’t, so David conducted a search downstairs
as well.
‘Have you lost something, David?’ Tor looked up from the biography of Mao Zedong he had bought her for Christmas.
‘Greta, actually. She went out for a walk earlier and she hasn’t reappeared yet.’
‘Do you want me to come and help look for her?’
‘No, it’s absolutely freezing out there. I’m sure she won’t have gone far. Back in a bit.’ David opened the front door, his conversation with Tor not betraying the
fear he felt. If Greta had been out there since mid-afternoon, and perhaps got lost, she could be freezing to death by now.
He switched on the powerful torch he’d brought with him and trudged off through the snow. As he walked, it crunched and crackled under the weight of his boots.
‘Think, David, think . . . Where could she have gone?’ he muttered to himself.
The truth was, the answer was anywhere, for if Greta couldn’t remember Marchmont, then it was highly unlikely there was any specific place she’d want to head for. After checking both
the front and back gardens, he decided to walk into the woods. It was as good a place as any to look.
He remembered then how Greta had originally arrived at Marchmont Hall on a Christmas Day long ago, having sprained her ankle in the woods, and felt a sense of déjà vu as he walked
through the trees, the light of his torch illuminating the glittering fairyland surrounding him, which belied the danger Greta might be in if she was still somewhere out here.
Arriving at the clearing which contained Jonny’s grave, he called out to Greta and, to his relief, heard a faint cry of response.
‘Greta, are you all right? Keep talking to me, and I’ll head in the direction of your voice!’
After a few moments the beam of his torch picked her up; she was stumbling through the snow towards him. He ran to her and saw that she was shivering uncontrollably, her cheeks streaked with
ribbons of mascara.
‘What on earth are you doing out here, darling?’ David said, taking off his thick ski jacket, putting it round her shoulders and closing his arms about her to try to warm her up.
‘David! I’ve remembered! I’ve remembered all about my parents, and Jonny, and the reason I came to Marchmont, and . . .’ With that, she crumpled into his arms,
sobbing.
Sweeping her up, David carried Greta back through the woods towards the house. On the way back she continued to tell him what she now knew, the words tumbling out in a disjointed torrent.
‘I’ve remembered all about the GI, and being at the Windmill and why I ended up there and . . . everything! Oh God, David, I can remember it all. Up to Marchmont, that is, and
Jonny’s death, but after that it’s all still a bit unclear.’
‘Right,’ David said, as he carried her into the kitchen where Tor, Ava and Simon were helping themselves to supper. ‘Greta got lost in the woods and I’m taking her
upstairs for a hot bath. Tor, could you make a hot-water bottle, please, and a cup of strong, sweet tea and bring them upstairs?’
‘Of course. Anything else?’
‘Not for now. Let’s get her warm, and then she might have some wonderful news for us all.’
Upstairs, David helped Greta off with her outer clothes, as she was still shivering violently, then closed the bathroom door behind him. He turned and found Tor standing in the bedroom with the
tea.
‘What’s happened, David? You looked almost euphoric when you arrived back with Greta. Not exactly the reaction I’d expect after rescuing someone who might have died from
hypothermia.’
‘Tor,’ he said, keeping his voice to a whisper so Greta couldn’t hear, ‘I don’t know the details yet, but Greta told me she’s remembered. Some things, anyway.
Isn’t that wonderful? After all these years.’
Tor could see David had tears of joy in his eyes. ‘Yes, it is. A real Christmas miracle.’
‘It must be coming back here to Marchmont that’s done it. Goodness, if only I’d been able to persuade her to come years ago . . .’
‘Well, perhaps she wasn’t ready. Anyway, I can’t wait to hear all about it. I’m amazed she didn’t freeze to death out there; you must have found her in the nick of
time.’
‘I think she was so full of adrenalin that she kept on the move, which probably saved her. Anyway, you go downstairs and have your supper. I’d better wait for her here.’
Tor nodded and left the room. David sat down heavily on the bed and ten minutes later, Greta emerged from the bathroom in her robe.
‘Have you stopped shivering yet?’ he asked, studying her expression to try and gauge how she was feeling.
‘Oh yes. I don’t feel cold at all.’
‘How
do
you feel?’
‘I don’t know . . . I’m not sure. I . . . remembered some more things in the bath, and what I need to do is try and put them in some kind of order. Maybe you can help me with
that, David?’
‘Of course I can.’
‘But not tonight. I’m going to stay up here and try to put the pieces together a little bit more. You go downstairs with the family. The last thing I want to do is ruin
everyone’s Christmas Day or be a bother, which, unfortunately, I have been already.’
‘Greta, don’t be silly! This is a huge moment for you. Surely I should stay?’
‘No, David. I need to be by myself.’ As she said the words, they glanced at each other, both understanding their significance.
‘Okay then. There’s some tea by your bed and a hot-water bottle in it. Shall I bring up a tray? You should eat something.’
‘Nothing for now, thank you. Oh David, even though I’m shocked and confused at the moment, isn’t it amazing?’
David looked at her lovely blue eyes, and saw them – for the first time in twenty-four years – shining with life.
‘It is, Greta, it is.’
The following morning Greta came down for breakfast and was hugged and congratulated by her family.
‘I do apologise for it all happening in such a dramatic fashion,’ she said guiltily, looking at Tor.
‘Do you know what triggered it?’ asked Ava, fascinated not only by what had happened but also the visible physical change in her grandmother. It was as if she really had been frozen
inside for years and now the thaw had begun, her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were tinged with pink.
‘I had the tiniest flashback when I first stepped out of the car on Christmas Eve, and another when I looked down from the upstairs landing and saw the Christmas tree in the hall. And then
of course, I went for a walk in the woods, randomly, because I couldn’t remember where to go, and found myself by Jonny’s grave. Maybe something was leading me there, but that was the
beginning of it. Please don’t ask me just now what I remember and what I don’t, because it’s all a bit of a mix-up in my head. But at least this morning when I saw Mary I knew
exactly who she was. And also how kind she’d been to me when I first arrived at Marchmont. And you, David, of course.’
‘Have you got to me yet, Granny?’
‘Give her time, Ava,’ David admonished her gently, seeing a momentary flicker of fear cross Greta’s face. ‘I’m sure that now it’s begun, Greta, and the
metaphorical door has been unlocked, the memories will continue to come back.’
‘Perhaps you should go and see a psychotherapist, Greta,’ Tor commented. ‘I don’t know much about this sort of thing, but it might be a bit overwhelming for
you.’
‘Thank you, but for the moment I’m coping well. Now, I’m going to take a short walk whilst the sun is still shining. I promise I won’t get lost this time,’ she
added with an ironic smile.
David was about to offer to go with her, then thought better of it.
‘I said I’d go and help Mary prepare lunch. She looks exhausted,’ said Tor, also rising. ‘I vote we give her the rest of the day off. I’m sure we can cope without
her.’
‘And, if no one minds,’ said Simon, ‘I’m going to head off to my music studio. I’ve still got two songs to write for Roger’s new album.’
‘Of course not, darling,’ said Ava. ‘Stay there as long as you want.’
‘You make sure you rest.’ Simon kissed his wife and left the room.
‘So the studio’s working out, is it?’ asked David.
‘God yes, so much so I think Simon would like to sleep in it as well.’ Ava chuckled. ‘I know I always seem to be saying thank you to you, Uncle David, but it really was a
brainwave to convert one of the barns for him. All the recording artists love coming here because it’s so peaceful and beautiful. And the Gate Lodge is going to work brilliantly for
accommodation, now Simon and I have moved out. He’ll pay you back, you know, and probably sooner than you think. The studio’s fully booked for the next six months.’
‘Which must be a blessing and a curse for
you
.’
‘Yes,’ Ava agreed, comforted by her uncle’s intuitiveness. ‘I could have done with Simon on hand for the next few months, but there we are. The good news is that
he’s happy. And you must be, too, given Granny’s Christmas-night revelation.’
‘To be honest, I’m still struggling to take it in. After all these years, it’s quite a shock.’
‘It is, but for the first time just now I got a glimpse of how she must have been before the accident. And I think that Tor is probably right about her seeing someone. I know
Granny’s on a high at the moment, but if her memories are starting to return, as she says, it’s going to be a difficult time for her. Especially with what she still has to
remember,’ Ava said quietly.
‘I know, but at least she’s here with us and we can all support her.’
‘She said she’d remembered up to her life at Marchmont this morning. And there were some difficult times back then. To suddenly know that you had a three-year-old son who died is
dreadful enough.’ Ava shuddered and put a protective hand to her bump. ‘But the rest . . . well, I only hope she can cope with it.’
‘Yes, but after the half life she’s been living, surely it’s better this way?’
‘Well, the thing is, Uncle David, even if she does remember the night of the accident, perhaps she needn’t ever know the whole truth about it?’
‘I understand what you’re saying, Ava,’ David agreed, ‘and I think the answer is that we’ll all have to suck it and see, as they say. The one thing I do know about
Greta is that she’s a survivor. And, if anyone can deal with this, she can. Anyway, you’re not to worry about your granny. I’ll look after her. You concentrate on taking care of
yourself. Right, I’m going to brave it in the Land Rover and see if I can get into the village and buy a
Telegraph
.’
Ava watched David leave the room and wondered if she was the only one of the gathering who could see how he felt about Greta. For Tor’s sake, she hoped she was.
Later that day David walked into the drawing room, and found Greta alone, staring into the dying embers in the grate. ‘Can I join you? Everyone else is either out or has
gone for a nap.’
‘You could certainly perk this fire up for me.’ Greta smiled at him.
‘Of course. How are you feeling?’ he asked her, as he busied himself with logs and kindling.
‘Would it be all right if I said I really don’t know just now?’
‘I think it would be fine. I doubt there are any rules for what you’re going through. And if there are, I’m sure it’s okay to break them.’ David sat down opposite
her and watched the fire reignite merrily in the grate. ‘I’m here to listen, not judge, and to help you in any way I can.’
‘I know, David,’ Greta said gratefully. ‘I have just one question for you, actually: why didn’t you tell me about Jonny, and that he’d died when he was so
young?’
‘The doctors told me not to say anything that might traumatise you. Forgive me, perhaps I should have done, but . . .’
‘Please don’t apologise. I know you were trying to protect me,’ Greta said hastily. ‘As you can imagine, it makes me a little scared to think about what
else
I
have to remember beyond all this. But really, David, you’ve been wonderful to me. I’ve remembered what you did for me when I was pregnant and desperate and . . . thank you. The truth
is, apart from the fact that I’m feeling I have to grieve all over again for the son I lost, when I went back to Jonny’s grave today, more memories started to flood in. About’
– Greta gulped – ‘afterwards.’
‘Such as what?’
‘Cheska. David, can you help me remember, even if it’s painful for me to hear? I need to piece everything together. Because so far, nothing makes sense. Do you see?’
‘I think so,’ he replied cautiously, ‘but don’t you think you should let it all happen naturally? I mean, maybe we should take advice from a professional on what’s
best for you?’
‘I’ve dealt with shrinks and all manner of trick-cyclists for years, so please believe me when I say that I know my own psyche far better than anyone else,’ Greta replied
firmly. ‘And, if I didn’t feel I could cope, I wouldn’t be asking you to fill in the missing links. Believe me, I can already tell you a lot of it. For example, I know, or believe
I know, that Owen was a drunk and I had to leave Marchmont with Cheska. I went to London, and I remember quite a bit about what happened there; things I did that I can’t say I’m proud
of. But if you could tell me – and I mean the absolute truth – it really would help me. Please, David, I need to know.’