Page 84 of The Summer Island Swap
‘Does it sound strange,’ he said in a husky voice, ‘worrying you’ve lost something before even knowing if you’ve really had it?’ Our faces were inches apart. He held my waist tightly. Finally we parted.
Gently he ran a finger across my bruised head. ‘I was so convinced Gabby wasthe one. But then you and Amy got lost in this storm. The thought of something happening to you… the overwhelming sense of panic inside…’ He swallowed. ‘Whilst I felt deeply for Gabby, I never felt like I have the last couple of weeks.’
Once more we shared a kiss. It ignited a storm inside me. An exhilarating, breathless, sensual storm I never wanted to end.
‘I suppose we’d better make our way back,’ he said eventually. ‘Get you and Amy checked out.’ He went to say something else but turned to go instead.
‘What?’
‘It’s nothing.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘No secrets.’
‘The comment you made about me being like your dad; about him holding you responsible for your mother’s death…’
I’d never repeated his hateful words to anyone. Dad had spat them out of Amy’s earshot and Anabelle had simply stood there in horror. I’d buried his spite into my memory, as deep as I could. But now and again his words crept out and crowded my mind, like a parasitic weed.
‘I was only told about how ill Mum was a few weeks before her death, when she became confined to bed.’
We sat down on a nearby log.
‘I denied it to myself. Refused to believe it was happening. Until Mum…’ My voice caught. ‘She confirmed my worst fears one day, after school. I was sitting on her bed. She took my hands. Hers felt so fragile. She started rambling about when she’d be gone. Muttered stuff about how I’d always have Amy. That I was a sensible, resilient little girl and had a great life ahead of me.’
‘I didn’t sleep that night. I felt so alone. And frightened.’ I stared blankly into the distance. Rick held my hand so tight. ‘But that didn’t stop me leaving home as soon as I could. Dad was a malicious man.’
‘You said I was just like him…’
‘His charisma – that’s how you remind me of him. He got away with his behaviour because of that and his good looks. My mum and stepmother both lived their lives to keep him happy. The way I feel about you…’
‘I’m not him. And you’re not them,’ he said gently.
‘It just struck a nerve – you doubting me and my motives for helping out. You see Dadneverbelieved in me. He just wasn’t interested. He’s always too worried about what other people thought. You know, he changed his surname by deed poll.’
‘It’s Sterling, right?’
‘Didn’t used to be. He was born Gary Smith but wanted a name that sounded rich. That was the reasoning behind what he called the cat that came to live with me and Amy.’
‘Nelly?’
‘He called her Chanel. I guess with the names Amy and Sarah my sister and I got off lucky.’
‘But blaming you for your mother’s death…? What happened right at the end, then? An accident?’
I snorted. ‘Dad had a way of twisting things to put people down – even his daughters – but especially his wives. I don’t think he’d genuinely believed I’d move out. He didn’t care about me – just how it would look to his friends and business colleagues. He told me I’d never manage. As an angry parting shot said Mum’s breast cancer…’ My voice wavered. ‘It was because I pushed her over when I was a child.’
‘What?’
I felt shaky. ‘We were messing around. I was about eight. Mum was tickling me. We were in the lounge. I laughed and shoved her as hard as I could. You think parents are all powerful when you’re small. I never thought she’d fall over. I must have caught her off-balance. She twisted and fell down, catching her right breast on the corner of this low mantelpiece, in front of the fire. She screamed out. We couldn’t hug her for days because of the swelling and pain. She’d laughed about it over the years. Said her breast had been wonky ever since. I hadn’t thought about it for ages until Dad threw that accusation at me.’
‘What a ridiculous thing to say.’
‘It didn’t seem so. The cancer came on the right side. I felt sure I’d read something, over the years, about breast trauma causing cancer. His accusation still hurts. I wish it didn’t.’
Rick enveloped me in an embrace.
‘Then a couple of years ago I got talking to the husband of one of the vets where Amy works. We got talking about my Mum. I kept the subject vague but moved it onto the causes of breast cancer. He said studies had been done and there were no links proved between cancer and breast injuries.’ My throat ached. ‘I felt such relief – and was so angry at Dad for having let me blame myself all that time.’
I closed my eyes and exhaled deeply. It felt good to share this with someone – and for that person to confirm that Dad was speaking nonsense, even though the rational part of me knew that. It was something I’d not even felt able to share with the therapist Anabelle encouraged me to see, all those years ago when I first left home. Eventually Rick took me by the shoulders. Held me firmly. Look me straight in the face.
