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‘Of course ye do, poppet.’ Dotty squeezed her hand. ‘Ye should think of Loch Cameron as yer home, whether ye end up stayin’ or not. Ye belong here as much as I do. An’ I’m like the fixtures an’ fittin’s,’ she said, with a laugh.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever felt like I belonged anywhere,’ Carrie said, quietly.
Dotty gave her an impromptu hug. ‘Well, ye belong here,’ she repeated. ‘Now. Come and stand next tae me an’ sing “Total Eclipse of the Heart” like yer life depended on it.’
TWENTY-SEVEN
After choir, Carrie had been so inundated with thoughts about Len and Bess that she had almost forgotten she was supposed to be going to clear out Claire’s flat in Edinburgh the next day.
Claire’s landlord had rented the flat to a new tenant, and unless someone moved Claire’s stuff out, Carrie had been informed by email that Claire’s things would bedisposed of.She had been dreading it, and had put it off for as long as she could, but it had to be done. At least Dotty’s revelations at choir practice the day before had distracted Carrie in the lead-up to this daunting task.
Dotty had given her Bess’s number, and before she’d got in the car that morning, Carrie had drafted a message several times, rewriting it so often it had started to sound nonsensical. In the end, she settled on:
Hi Bess. Sorry for the out-of-the-blue message, but Dotty gave me your number. My name’s Carrie. Maud McKinleywas my great-aunt and I think you and I knew each other as children. I know you’re Len’s daughter – I’m so sorry for your loss. I’ve recently discovered that we’re related. I’d love to meet and talk, if you had some free time?
Writing and rewriting the text was a distraction from having to get in the car in the first place, and from the idea of having to sort through Claire’s things. Carrie would still prefer not to be in a car, but at least if she could drive, it helped her feel she was in control. Being a passenger was worse, like when she’d freaked out in the car with Rory that time. She’d been a passenger when the crash had happened. She hadn’t been able to do anything to save her sister. She hadn’t been in control.
Then, just as bad as the car journey, when she got to Claire’s flat she was going to have to pack up all her stuff.
She was dreading it.
Carrie looked at her phone for a minute, wondering if Bess would reply straight away, but the screen remained empty of messages. She sighed and put it in her pocket.
No more distractions, she thought.Just go, do the thing, and then by the time you get home tonight, it’ll be over.
She really didn’t want to leave the cottage: it was safe here, her little sanctuary. But she knew she had to go.
* * *
‘I can do this. You don’t need to be here,’ Carrie snapped at Graham as he opened Claire’s wardrobe.
They both stared at the racks of her clothes hung haphazardly on the rail. There was silence as they both took in the scent of Claire: the washing detergent she used, the faint trace of her perfume that was still on some of the dresses and coats and blouses that hung there.
‘I want to be here,’ Graham muttered, refusing to look at Carrie. ‘I know you hate me, even though I still don’t understand why. But I have every right to be here. As much right as you.’
‘You do not have anywherenearas much right as me to be here, so don’t even pretend,’ Carrie spat back at him. ‘I was her sister. Who were you? Some guy she was sleeping with.’
‘Carrie. You know we were engaged. I spent more time in this flat than you ever did,’ he said, keeping his voice even. ‘Let’s not argue. Okay? I can’t, right now. I just don’t have it in me to be here, and argue with you as well.’
‘Then leave.’ Carrie turned to him, feeling her heart wrench and the tears spring to her eyes. Carrie had had no intention of talking to Graham at all if she could help it, but he’d been at the flat when she’d let herself in with her spare key. ‘Why are you even here? It’s not your flat.’
‘Because I miss her. I wanted… to be around her things.’ Graham sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘Is that so wrong? Not everyone reacted to losing Claire like you did, just upping sticks and running away. I wanted to stay as close to her as I could.’
‘So, you’ve been living here? In her flat? That’s a little twisted, don’t you think?’ Carrie frowned. ‘I didn’t say you could be here. I don’t want you here, Graham.’
‘Tough. I am here.’ He looked up at her. ‘Why have you never liked me?’
Carrie looked away, grief blocking her throat. How could she explain? She’d found it so hard to get in the car to drive all the way to Claire’s flat today, for one thing. And then the hours it took to get to Edinburgh from Loch Cameron were intensely stressful: negotiating the country roads, expecting a car to come around the corner too fast on the wrong side of the road any minute. She was in a cold sweat the whole time and shaking for most of it.
Then, when she’d finally got to Edinburgh, she’d had to stop at a storage centre and organise a place to put all of Claire’s stuff until she had a home for it. She’d bought a ton of flat-pack boxes and tape and parked outside Claire’s flat in the city centre, lugging it all up four flights of stairs, dreading opening the front door and seeing Claire’s belongings. Never mind the fact that the physical effort made her collarbone ache terribly.
‘Graham. This isn’t about you. It was hard enough to come here today. I just want to get this done as best I can. I can’t deal with you right now.’ Carrie blinked back the tears, reaching into Claire’s wardrobe and pulling out dresses, throwing them on the bed next to Graham. ‘And you shouldn’t be living here. It’s ghoulish.’ She didn’t explain why she’d gone to Loch Cameron. She didn’t have it in her to make Graham understand that escaping to the place she and Claire had been happiest as children had been the only thing she could think of. The only place she could be, right now.
‘Carrie, one day you’ll realise that I’m not the enemy here.’ Graham got up, shaking his head. ‘Just know that I loved your sister, okay? No matter what you think about me, you have to admit that I made her happy. She made me happy too.’ His voice broke, and he started to cry. ‘I loved her, Carrie, and I miss her so damn much.’
Carrie couldn’t comfort him. If it had been anyone else, she would have, but with Graham, she just couldn’t.
Graham got up and walked out; Carrie sat on the bed and stared at Claire’s clothes and burst into silent tears. She knew why she’d always been awful to Graham. It was obvious, and she hated admitting it, but she was jealous. So very jealous of him, and the fact that Claire loved him. Because Claire had always been hers, first and foremost.
