Page 65 of The Lie
‘Hey, Gracie.’
He could hear the television in the background as Grace said, ‘Hold on a minute. I’ll go into the other room.’
‘How are things?’ he asked.
There was a pause. Then Grace replied, her voice lowered, ‘Oh, I don’t know. This thing … telling you … it’s sort of churned me up. I can’t stop thinking about it now.’
Finch wasn’t sure what to say, but Grace went on, ‘Don’t tell me to get help, Finch. I’d feel like such a fucking loser, whingeing about something that happened when I was sixteen. It’s just ?’ She stopped.
‘Gracie, listen, I know about this. I had men in my unit traumatized by stuff and refusing to admit theywere getting flashbacks, not sleeping, whatever, because they didn’t think it was important enough, didn’t want to appear cowardly or weak. They didn’t get better on their own.’ There was no response so he went on, hoping to drive home his advantage. ‘What happened to you was real. It’ll only get worse if you don’t deal with it.’
‘Yeah, well, telling you already made it worse.’
‘That’s probably the hardest part, opening up for the first time.’
He heard her sigh. ‘I wish you were here, Finch.’ She sounded on the verge of tears.
‘Oh, Gracie. You should have said. I thought you were OK with me being away.’
‘I was. I am. I’m totally OK. I just … Hearing your voice …’
He heard the crack in her words, and stifled sobs. ‘Gracie, sweetheart …’
She cleared her throat. ‘Come on, then,’ she said. ‘I want the latest on the roasted cow balls.’
Finch laughed. ‘No latest, thank goodness. Listen, I was ringing to say I’m coming back. It’s amazing here, but it’s not real life.’
He heard Grace snort. ‘Nothing so great about real life.’ Silence, then she added, ‘So you’re really coming home?’
The cautious hope in her voice was too much for him and he coughed to get rid of the lump in his throat. ‘I don’t want to let Luis and Jocelyn down, they’ve been so good to me, but the current guests leave soon and I’ll get a flight out after that.’
Grace gave a long sigh. ‘That’s great, Finch. Let me know when.’
Finch pulled up beside Marty on the bluff. The slopes of the distant hills were shaded purple, the pampas, stretching away down the valley, bleached sand-grey and shimmering, like a piece of silk, in the winter sunset. The emptiness, the sheer vastness and beauty of the landscape still awed him, even after the weeks at Luis’s estancia.
‘Thought I’d lost you.’ Marty grinned, eyebrows raised smugly.
‘Ha-ha.’ Finch laughed. The American was so bloody competitive on a horse. And he’d found himself – against his better instincts – trying his best to match him, to beat him. But it was pointless: Marty was at one with the Paso.
For a while they sat there, the chomp, chomp of the horses as they lowered their heads to the grass the only sound. Finch breathed in the stillness, the silence. This grand wilderness seemed not to allow for petty concerns – which was probably why he loved it.
‘I’m sad you’re leaving,’ Marty began, as they tightened their reins and turned their mounts back the way they’d come. ‘Next time you want to take off, you should visit Wisconsin. Spend some time at the ranch. Daddy would love you and there’s always a ton of work with the horses.’
‘Thanks, I’ll remember that,’ Finch said. He smiled across at his friend. ‘It’s your fault I’m going.’
‘How so?’
‘Oh, you just reminded me of stuff I was trying to forget.’
‘How thoughtless of me,’ Marty joked. Then his expression became serious. ‘But, trust me, it’ll be a relief to stop running.’
47
When she returned to the flat after the trial weekend, Michael made his position quite clear.
‘You see?’ He waved his good hand, like an actor taking a bow. ‘Still in one piece.’ Looking triumphant he added, rather formally, ‘So you can leave me with a clear conscience, Romy, and knowing you’ve done a spectacular job, getting me thus far. I can’t thank you enough.’
Romy had heard from Leo, however, what a state Michael and the kitchen had been in that Sunday morning, how worried he and Lucy were.
