Forgive Me (29 page)

‘She didn’t tell you about her
parents?’

Eva felt his surprise at this. ‘No,
nothing. Aside from her growing up in Cornwall.’

‘I can’t imagine why she kept
that back from you – she mentioned them quite often to me. But maybe that was because I
admitted that my late father was overbearing and often cruel. Anyway, she told me she
felt suffocated by her parents. Her mother had two stillbirths before Flora was born.
But instead of being joyful at finally getting a longed-for healthy baby, she spent her
whole time fretting about everything. Flora said she didn’t like her playing with
other children in case she “caught” something from them. She wasn’t
allowed to go to the beach alone because she might fall on rocks or drown –’

Gregor broke off there, and laughed.

‘Flora used to make me laugh with
these stories, Eva. It sounded like being kept in a very clean and tidy prison. She said
her mother had an obsession with germs, she scrubbed things until her hands were red
raw. Nowadays that might be diagnosed as OCD, but back then she was probably thought of
as a bit barmy. Anyway, Flora ran away to London when she was sixteen. She said she
couldn’t take all the rules any more. I did wonder whether that was what made her
become so bohemian, so resentful of any kind of authority. I can’t believe she
didn’t tell you that too!’

Eva shook her head. ‘Not a word. Did
she tell you about Patrick O’Donnell?’

He frowned. ‘No. Who was
he?’

Eva told him a little about Patrick and the
baby they’d lost,
and how Eva had found him. ‘He was with
Mum for a long time. She left him living in the studio she had in London, where I live
now. Fancy her never mentioning him!’

‘She didn’t tell me any of that,
except that she had a studio which she was renting out. I assumed that was why she
didn’t need to find a job here. But I did suspect there had been a broken love
affair, and that something bad had happened to her. Sometimes she would stay in bed all
day, refusing to answer the door, or be seen roaming around late at night. But though I
tried to get to the bottom of it, she just brushed off my questions. She had a thing she
used to say …’ Gregor frowned and hesitated, as if he was trying to recall
the exact words, ‘it was, “Don’t allow yourself to feel jealous or
angry about my past or former loves, because who I am now, whatever it is you like about
me, is the result of the experiences I had with other people, and the influences they
had on me.’’’

Eva thought about that for a moment. She had
never heard Flora say it, but yet her voice was in the words.

‘That’s actually a profound bit
of advice,’ she admitted, ‘and very typical of Mum. She had a stock of
meaningful phrases she could trot out when needed. But I can’t help but be cynical
and think she said that one to prevent you probing into her past. Can I ask a personal
question, Gregor? Were you lovers?’

She knew when he hesitated that they had
been.

‘“Lovers” suggests a lot
more than we shared,’ he said eventually. ‘I was in love with her, but if
she felt the same about me, she never said. We did sleep together, but just for a short
while. And I think she regretted it, because it compromised her.’

‘Why? She was free, you are an
attractive man and must have been a very eligible bachelor.’

‘I suspect she had a fear of
commitment. I think she
wanted a purely platonic friendship.’ He
sighed. ‘I didn’t of course. Do men ever want that?’

‘Not often,’ Eva replied, and
laughed nervously. She was very afraid she was going to discover her mother might have
used this kind, attractive and sensitive man as merely a sperm donor.

‘Can you remember how long Flora was
living in Pitlochry?’ she asked. ‘You see, her diary has no dates, and
I’m trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together.’

‘I know she arrived here in the spring
of 1969. She remarked on the primroses coming up in the garden of the cottage, so that
would’ve been late March. She loved gardening, but then you’d know that. She
brought the one at the cottage back to life. As for when she left, the last time I saw
her was Christmas of 1969. I went away to the Highlands for Hogmanay, and stayed right
through till March. She’d gone when I got back. No one could say exactly when she
left, as she hadn’t been seen around for some time. But I think I only missed her
by a few days, because she’d left bread and other stuff in the cottage and it was
still reasonably fresh.’

‘But I was born on the 26th of April,
1970!’ Eva gasped.

Gregor blanched. He looked so shocked that
Eva was afraid he might become ill.

‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t
have blurted that out like that,’ she said. ‘Didn’t you know she was
pregnant?’

‘But she can’t have been.’
His voice had risen slightly, and the words came out like a protest. ‘I was with
her at Christmas and she was as slender as you are. If she was pregnant, someone
would’ve noticed it before she left Pitlochry.’

Eva could hear the anguish in his voice and
saw it in his eyes too. She realized in that moment that he really had loved Flora. To
be told that she had either got pregnant by someone else while he was seeing her, or she
had deliberately
deprived him of his own child, was like a dagger
through his heart.

‘Thick winter clothes can hide a
lot,’ Eva said. ‘I am so sorry, Gregor, to give you such a shock. But it
seems to me that you could be my father.’

‘It couldn’t be me, Eva. Well,
not unless you were very premature,’ Gregor said, making a gesture of finality
with his hands. ‘There was nothing physical between us until late
September.’

Eva made a rapid calculation in her head and
found that she must have been conceived in July 1969. She had no doubt Gregor was
telling the truth; like Patrick, he looked a bit sad that he hadn’t gained a
grown-up daughter.

‘I feel really bad and pretty stupid,
assuming that,’ she said glumly. ‘There must have been another man in her
life before you,’ she said.

‘Don’t worry on my account.
I’m a big boy now, and it was a long time ago.’ He shrugged.
‘Obviously there must have been, but she never said anything – not so much as a
hint. But he can’t have been from around here, as the jungle drums would’ve
been beating loud and clear.’

‘She mentions someone with the initial
“D” quite a few times. She said something about feeling she was being
analysed.’

His expression lightened. ‘That would
be Dena Deeds,’ he said. ‘She was just another hippy who turned up here on a
quest for salvation, but she claims to have psychic powers these days.’

Eva smiled at his description of the woman.
‘She and Flora were friends?’

‘That’s debatable. They spent a
lot of time together when Flora first arrived – understandably, as they were both on
their own, and both oddballs. Flora told me she found it comforting
to be around someone who had more hang-ups than she did. Back then, Dena was into
astrology in a big way. She’d do people’s charts and analyse them on the
strength of it. I know she told Flora that the only way she would be happy was to
“surrender” herself to a man and normality.’

Eva laughed and Gregor joined in.
‘Flora and I laughed about that a lot,’ he said. ‘Dena had no idea
what “normal” was, and Flora certainly wasn’t the kind to surrender to
anyone.’

‘Yet she did,’ Eva said
thoughtfully. ‘That’s exactly what she did do. She met and married very
normal Andrew, gave up painting, surrendered everything she’d been before in order
to fit in with his ideals.’

‘You are joking?’ His red
eyebrows shot up in disbelief. ‘That’s as unlikely as hearing the Pope has
signed a pact with the Devil!’

‘I’m entirely serious,’
Eva insisted. ‘Her change of character and lifestyle is all part of this mystery
surrounding her.’ She went on to explain a little about her mother’s life
during the years with Andrew.

‘So maybe Dena isn’t barking, as
I’ve always believed,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Maybe you should go and
see her? She’s got a room above a shop in the main street. She tells fortunes for
the tourists.’

Grace came back with a tray of tea and
shortbread for them. Gregor introduced them, explaining that Eva was Flora Foyle’s
daughter.

‘Oh aye, I remember her so
well.’ Grace’s face lit up at the memory. ‘I adored her, she was so
outrageous. She wore a wonderful emerald-green velvet cloak and lacy long dresses. I was
at that stage you go through in your teens when you
rebel against
everything, especially living in a little town in the middle of Scotland. Flora
convinced me it was actually pretty cool to live here. I even hoped she and Gregor would
get married.’

‘That was never on the cards,’
Gregor snapped.

Grace made a face at her elder brother and
flounced out of the room. Eva sensed that Gregor was prone to putting his sister in her
place and that, if they hadn’t had company, Grace would have retaliated.

Eva poured the tea. ‘I understand
Grace lives here with her family,’ she said. She thought Gregor was lucky to have
a sister who was prepared to look after him, and he ought to be nicer to her.

‘Yes, she does. Her husband was here
too originally, but they got divorced a couple of years ago. She’s got two boys,
Cameron and Brett. They are having a holiday in France with their father at the moment.
But they’ll be back next week.’

There was so much more she wanted to ask
Gregor – not just about Flora, but about his life too. But she felt she had intruded
enough for one day, and she felt bad at shocking him with the news that Flora had left
this town pregnant. How could Flora have kept that from him when she’d called him
her soulmate? Why would she go hiking and camping with Gregor when she was already
seeing another man? Even worse was that she embarked on an affair with him later,
knowing full well she was pregnant.

Eva had been intending to tell Gregor about
Flora taking her own life, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him anything
else upsetting. So she kept the conversation to lighter subjects, asking him about what
places she should visit, and if she could come and see him again in a day or two.

‘I’d like that,’ he said
with a warm smile. ‘Why don’t you come and have dinner with me tomorrow?
Grace will be
very relieved to wriggle out of sitting with me all
evening. Go and see Dena, then we can laugh about whatever she tells you.’

On the way back to the hotel Eva spotted
Dena’s sign on a street door next to a gift shop in the main street: ‘Madame
Dena Psychic. Tarot, Astrology and I Ching’. The sign said ‘By appointment
only’, so as soon as she reached the hotel she rang the number and arranged to see
Dena at eleven the following morning.

Back in her room, she felt both excited that
she’d discovered so much today, but also sad. She had really liked Gregor and
thought it was wonderful that he’d retained his sense of humour even when life had
been so cruel to him. But her sadness wasn’t so much because of that, or because
he wasn’t her father, but rather because her mother had been so devious and
secretive.

What else was she going to uncover about
her?

She really hoped this Dena woman might have
something more uplifting to tell her.

At eight that evening, before going down to
the Chinese Restaurant to get a takeaway, she rang Phil. He was really pleased to hear
from her, and wanted to know every last thing she’d done since leaving London.

She gave him a brief synopsis, and he
laughed about her having an appointment with a fortune-teller in the morning.

‘I’m not going to tell her who I
am,’ Eva said. ‘Well, not until after she’s done her thing. I’m
looking forward to it.’

‘Well, if she tells you there’s
a tall dark man coming by train to meet you soon, you’ll know she does have
powers,’ he said. ‘I think I should be able to get there on
Saturday.’

Eva gave a little squeal of pleasure.

Phil laughed. ‘I thought you might do
the “I vant to be alone” thing,’ he said in a Marlene Dietrich
voice.

‘Of course I don’t. I’m
thrilled,’ she said eagerly. ‘There’s a station in Pitlochry,’
she added, and gave him the hotel telephone number. She told him to ring and leave a
message to say what time the train got in, so she could meet him at the station.

Eva found it hard not to burst into
laughter when she arrived for her appointment with Madame Dena the next day. The whole
room was festooned with purple and lilac cheap nylon material. It was held in place on
the ceiling by a Moroccan-style lantern, then fell in swathes down to what was probably
a picture rail, before dropping down to the floor. It bore a passing resemblance to
something from
The Arabian Nights
, and was not what anyone would expect in a
small Scottish town.

Dena sat at a small card table, and she was
wearing an orange and purple Indian-style long jacket with a high collar, with a purple
turban around her head fastened with an amber brooch. Maybe if she’d worn
Indian-style trousers beneath the jacket she could have carried it off, but she was
wearing jeans, and a pair of brown bedroom slippers.

Gregor had said she was in her fifties, but
in fairness she didn’t look it. Her face was virtually unlined, with a clear
complexion. She was almost beautiful, with high cheekbones and very dark eyes like
melted chocolate, but her nose was a little too big. A strand of hair escaping from the
turban was dyed black, but Eva thought she might have been born with black hair because
of the darkness of her eyes.

She beckoned Eva in. ‘Come in, my
dear, sit down and make yourself comfortable.’ Her voice was odd too, as if
she’d trained herself to speak in that low, husky way and had ironed out any kind
of accent.

Eva sat down and the woman took her hands,
holding them very lightly while looking intently at her. Eva felt uncomfortable being
under such deep scrutiny and wondered what else she was in for.