Page 80 of A Sky Painted Gold

“Mmm.” Robert makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Our father was a good man,” he says. “But when he came back from the war he was … different.”

I nod encouragingly. I have a little experience with this.

“He was sad, terribly sad. And angry.” He is talking faster. “We tried to help him, but there was just nothing we could do. We weren’t enough; we couldn’t be what he needed. It took me a while to understand, but in a lot of ways he was still fighting. And then he was … lost.” There is a tiny pause, and I find I am holding my breath as something big and terrible seems to fill the air. Robert steels himself for the words, and then, finally, they come. “It wasn’t in Derbyshire, and it wasn’t an accident. He killed himself.”

“Oh, Robert.” My hand is in his now, and I bring it to my cheek.

He smiles a grim sort of smile. “It’s OK,” he says. “Well, it’s not OK, obviously. Frankly, it’s the absolute opposite of OK.” His voice is hollow. “Afterwards, I didn’t know what to do. It turned out that he had made some fairly catastrophic financial decisions, and things were left in a real mess. Suddenly I was supposed to be Lord Cardew and to find a way to manage the whole failing estate while keeping all the gory details of his death out of the wretched press, who were hovering like vultures. We struggled on for a while … it took about a year for me to find out the full extent of the damage. Meanwhile –” he closes his eyes here “– Caitlin was falling completely to pieces. It was worse for her, much worse than it was for me.” He turns and looks me straight in the eye. “She was the one who found him, you see. In the house in London.”

“Oh, God.” I shudder, burying my face in my hands.

“I don’t know what happened between you two this morning,” he says quietly, “but you should know what she’s been through. I know she should be the one to tell you, but I honestly don’t think she knows how.”

I nod, unable to speak.

“After that Caitlin was ill, very ill. She couldn’t sleep, she hardly ate, she was anxious all the time and her behaviour was erratic.” My heart hurts at the vulnerability in his voice. Doesn’t he see that Caitlin is still like that?

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says, reading my expression at once. “But she was worse, much worse than she is now. I had to have her … she had to stay in a hospital for a while.” His voice is tight with emotion as he says this, and I feel my own heart stutter as that piece of the puzzle falls into place. I can only imagine how difficult it has been for both of them. “Afterwards she seemed to be getting better, and we came to Cornwall to get away from London and all the bad memories. We had already closed the big house in town. Neither of us have been there since the … incident; that’s why you didn’t stay there when you went to London with Caitlin. But I thought in Cornwall we could have a real break from it all.” He smiles ruefully. “It was our mother’s favourite place, you see, but we haven’t spent much time there. It’s not so haunted by memories. I think it helped at first, but recently she seems to be getting worse again, and there’s just nothing I can do…” He trails off here, and the look on his face is one of total helplessness.

I think about my friend, about all the pain she carries with her, about her brittleness. She’s putting so much energy into convincing people who don’t care a bit about her that she’s all right, simply for the sake of appearances. She’s burning herself out, just as Lucky said. Ash and bone. I want to put my head in my hands and weep.

“When I met Laurie,” Robert continues in a low voice, “a practical arrangement seemed like a good option. Laurie shared some of the weight, made me feel less alone. Most of all I wanted to protect Caitlin, from scandal, from any further upset, from going without any of the things that are important to her.” He pauses here. “And I care a great deal about Laurie. She and I are real friends, and I have her to thank for keeping this whole show running. Caitlin doesn’t know the financial situation, and Laurie has helped me to keep it that way. I will never be able to repay her kindnesses to us both.” He stops, and a silence falls over us.

There it is. The whole truth. Except it’s not, I realize, because Robert doesn’t know about Lucky, and Caitlin doesn’t know about the money, and Robert doesn’t know that Caitlin doesn’t want the life that he is sacrificing himself to give her, that it is causing her more pain. What a mess.

“I think you need to talk to your sister,” I say finally.

Robert’s eyes register his surprise at this response.

I hold up my hand to stop him from talking. “I know why you haven’t, and it’s really up to you, but I think that you should. I think there are things that both of you need to say. For her, as well as for you.” I stop there, because to push any further would be to spill secrets that aren’t mine to share.

And I stop because I know now that this means goodbye, and I understand why. I love Laurie too, and Robert will never do anything to hurt her. I am glad about that at the same time as I am devastated by it. I think that somewhere in his confession he is telling me that he cares for me, but I see that it doesn’t matter now.

I get to my feet and so does he.

“I brought you this,” he says, picking up a white box that I hadn’t noticed sitting on the ground beside him. “I wanted to give it to you before we leave.”

“Leave?” I say, and the word is a whisper.

“Yes.” He clears his throat. “Now that the engagement is about to be announced we’re all going back to London to see to the arrangements. Apparently Charlie and Caitlin want to do it quickly.” Even though I have always known it would end, that they would go, the sudden reality of it all leaves me breathless.

“I see,” I say, and I take the box from him, tucking it under one arm.

“Goodbye, Lou,” he says softly.

“Goodbye,” I reply.

And then he leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. It is the briefest touch of his lips against my skin, and a drop of rain in the desert. I don’t watch as he walks away. I stand perfectly still, my trembling fingers pressed to my mouth.

Sitting back down on the step, I open the box. The tears come in earnest then. Inside is my green dress carefully wrapped in tissue paper.

Part Three

“Life starts all over again when

it gets crisp in the fall.”

— F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby