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Rhianna moved restively. ‘Mrs Penvarnon, I don’t think you should be telling me these things. They can’t matter any more.’
‘Ah, but they do. Because they’re my sole excuse for the continued pretence that I was ill. I was cheating the kind, considerate, generous husband who loved me for a long time before Francis and I became involved. And I think that was what he could not forgive—the lengths I went to in order to avoid being a wife to him.
‘Once he’d gone, the three of us that were left went to even greater lengths to make sure the truth didn’t get out. Moira was too fond of being lady of the manor to contemplate divorce. And I—I was shattered, and wanted only to get away. So when Kezia Trewint began to spread her tissue of lies we denied nothing.’
‘But she took the photographs,’ Rhianna said slowly. ‘Took them, then showed them to your husband. Why did she turn on him?’
‘Because she was in love with him—obsessed by him.’ The older woman shrugged wryly. ‘She believed, poor creature, that he’d be grateful to her, and much more besides. But he left by himself, and when she learned that Grace was working for him all that hidden passion turned sour, and she deliberately twisted their relationship into dirt.
‘And I let her,’ she added sombrely. ‘Even after Ben’s letter I said nothing. I told myself there was nothing to be gained by the truth. That Moira and Francis had patched up their marriage, and by this time even had a child. Best, I told myself, to let sleeping dogs lie. To go along with the myth of the betrayed wife.’
Esther Penvarnon paused. ‘But none of us bargained for you—Grace’s double—reawakening all the old resentment and all the guilt.’ She added quietly, ‘And I didn’t allow for the possibility, my dear, that my son might love you so much that he would insist the record be set straight and your faith in your mother vindicated at last.
‘So I’m here to ask if you can forgive me. If some good can finally come out of the sorrow and bitterness of the past, and there can be healing.’
There was a silence, then Rhianna said slowly, ‘Perhaps—if it was just the past. But it isn’t.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I’m grateful that my belief in my mother has been justified, but I can’t go any further than that. You see, Mrs Penvarnon, nothing’s changed for me. My whole life is a mess. A disaster. I was drawn against my will into a totally unacceptable situation where I was also forced to keep other people’s secrets. As a result I’ve been vilified in the tabloids and on television.’
She got to her feet, her legs shaking under her. ‘My career, such as it was, is finished. My attempt to protect the happiness of my best friend has been a disaster. Her life is ruined, and she’ll probably never speak to me again. And my relationship with Diaz, which began for all the wrong reasons anyway, has been dragged through the gutter press and distorted beyond recognition. You’ve seen the papers. How could he ever want to know me again—even if his sense of honour has demanded that the truth must be told?’
She drew a trembling breath. ‘I got everything so terribly wrong—even with the best possible motives. All in all, I’ve caused more trouble than my Aunt Kezia ever dreamed of. Yes, I can forgive what happened in the past, if that’s what you want to hear. That’s the easy part. After all, the people most affected by it are no longer with us to be hurt any more. But this is the present, and I’ve had my own conspiracy of silence to contend against, and lost.
‘I’m alive, Mrs Penvarnon, but who is there in this entire world who will ever forgive me? And how can I possibly bear it?’
From the doorway, Diaz said gently, ‘With me beside you, my dearest love. We’ll get through it together.’
Rhianna swung round, staring across the room at him with a kind of anguish. ‘How did you know where to find me?’
‘I’ve always known,’ he said. ‘Did you really think I’d let you leave Penvarnon five years ago without reassuring myself that you were safe and being cared for? When I found the press camped outside your flat, I guessed where you’d be.’
‘But you can’t stay here. You have to go—go now.’ And she turned away, covering her face with trembling fingers.
In the silence that followed she heard the door close, and for a moment she thought he had really left her. Then his hands descended firmly on her shoulders, pulling her round to face him, and she realised that it was Esther Penvarnon who had departed, leaving them alone together.
He said quietly, ‘Darling, without you, I’m going nowhere. You’re the other half of me, and I refuse to live without you. So get used to the idea.’
