MAEVE: ‘He’s not in the forty-mile radius.’
CRISTY: ‘But you know where he is?’
MAEVE: ‘Not exactly, no.’
Cristy didn’t challenge her, although she did wonder if that was true.
NICOLE: ‘If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you.’
Cristy watched as Maeve dried her daughter’s cheeks, pressed a kiss to her forehead and returned to her chair. What, Cristy wondered, were Maeve’s feelings towards the man who’d clearly had such an enormous impact on her daughter’s life? Cristy sensed no animosity, but it was hard to get a feel for anything when Maeve was giving off so little in the way of emotion – apart from great tenderness for her daughter.
NICOLE: ‘Lauren comes to visit me too, now and again. When she can. Mum doesn’t know that … Sorry, Mum,but you’d only tell Bridget, and Lauren doesn’t want her mum to know.’
Maeve shook her head – more in exasperation, it seemed, than surprise. Whatever her true feelings about this news, she apparently wasn’t going to share them now.
CRISTY: ‘Do you know where Lauren is?’
NICOLE: ‘Not exactly, but Claude does. She’s happy, I think. It’s nice to see her when she comes.’
She broke into a girlish laugh that seemed unrelated to anything or anyone in the room, and when she spoke, she sounded much as she might have as a playful teen.
NICOLE: ‘You haven’t asked how I met Claude, but I’m going to tell you anyway. It was at a nightclub in Bristol … You look surprised, but it’s true. Lauren and I could hardly take our eyes off him … There was something about him that made it hard not to stare …
‘He was older than us, not by much, and the way he was standing there, at the end of the bar on his own … He says he wasn’t alone, but that’s how I remember it. Everyone was trying to get him to dance, and he kept laughing, saying he was no good, but he danced with me, and we moved together like we’d been dancing forever.’
Cristy watched her closely and realized she could be witnessing something else the psychologist had mentioned:some trauma victims show signs of being mentally stuck in the era before the trauma occurred. It’s a safer space for them, where they don’t have to think about or fear what comes next because they don’t know. There can also be a lot of fantasy involved, a creation of how they want things to be rather than how they actually were.
NICOLE: ‘It was me who asked him if we could see one another again, but it didn’t matter because we knew right away that we would. It was like we had to because … We had to.’
CRISTY: ‘You said he’s Swiss, so what was he doing in Bristol?’
NICOLE: ‘He was lecturing at the university, just for a year at first, but he ended up staying a lot longer than that.’
CRISTY: ‘What was he lecturing in?’
NICOLE: ‘Psychology.’
CRISTY: ‘And he stayed. Because of you?’
NICOLE: ‘And his other friends. They were special too, in their own ways, and I always felt as though I belonged with them. It’s hard to explain that, but it’s true. I want to go back to them.’
CRISTY: ‘Are they all still together?’
NICOLE: ‘Not all of them, no. Some have gone their separate ways.’
CONNOR: ‘Maeve, how well did you know Claude Meyer? Do you still know him?’
MAEVE: ‘I haven’t seen him for years, but he – and his friends – used to come to the house back in the early days. They were a nice group to have around, always polite, a lot of fun … Ronnie and Claude used to get into such debates, going on into the night … They could talk about anything: politics, religion, rocket science – nothing was off the table for them. For any of them, actually.’
NICOLE: ‘I used to say they could bore for England, andClaude would remind me he was Swiss, so I’d tell him he had both countries covered. I’ve always loved being able to make him laugh. I still can.’
CRISTY: ‘Did they carry on coming to the house after the twins were born?’
NICOLE: ‘Of course. Everyone loved the twins.’
CRISTY: ‘Is Claude their father?’
Nicole frowned deeply, as though trying to decide whether or not this was a trick question, or perhaps she was wondering whether or not to be truthful. More signs of traumatic effects:sudden bouts of wariness, suspicion, an inherent need to self-protect even when no harm is threatened.
