Page 90 of Among the Sins of my Father

Reaching over, I entwine my fingers through Jericho’s as he drives us down the tree-framed winding road. He lifts my hand and brushes a kiss across my knuckles as the Sanctuary looms above us.

There’s something different about it now. It doesn’t seem so imposing. It’s as though its ghosts have vanished and it’s finally able to stand in all its glory rather than stoop under the weight of its past. The crumbling ruins of the gardens have been given a new lease on life, fresh flowers and shrubbery perfectly placed around the property. The walls of the Sanctuary, which had cracked and tumbled, now stand strong and tall. And above the arch of the entrance the words ‘Swan Sanctuary’ have been set in the stone. Even the pond somehow seems to have been renovated. The water is clearer, the pads of the lilies are brighter and there’s even more elegance to the way the swans glide across the surface. The gazebo has even been given a fresh layer of paint.

Mrs Bellamy waits on the steps just as she did the very first time I arrived. She’s dressed in her usual black and white ensemble, but instead of standing solemnly with hands clasped in front of her, she’s waving enthusiastically. As soon as the car rolls to a stop, I open the door, rush over to her and wrap her in an embrace. She’s been on a well-deserved holiday over the past few weeks. And she’s returned to find all the renovation of the Sanctuary completed and in time for its grand opening tomorrow.

“Welcome back to the Sanctuary, Miss Berkley,” she says, pushing back from me and holding me at arm’s length, as though her time away requires her to inspect me for differences.

“Just Berkley, Mrs Bellamy.”

“Nonsense,” she says. “You will always be Miss Berkley to me. Now let me get a good look at you. You look as though you’ve lost a little weight. Have you been eating okay?”

Jericho is now out of the car and standing beside me. Mrs Bellamy lets go of my shoulders and Jericho moves closer, his hand coming to rest on my waist.

She looks between us. “I do worry about you two alone in that tiny apartment. You are both eating okay, aren’t you?”

Jericho laughs and leans forward to place a kiss on her cheek. “How was your holiday?”

“Entirely too long. After the first week, I was itching to get back here and help prepare everything for tomorrow. But it seems as though Hope, Alice and Alma have done a wonderful job. There’s barely anything left for me to do.”

“Well, that’s good. You deserved a break. We’re just back for one final stroll around the place before everyone arrives tomorrow. A final goodbye I guess you could say.”

“Oh, don’t say that. That makes me sad. You better come back lots of times to say hello. And no doubt Miss Berkley will need to come back to keep an eye on her investment.”

I look upwards, staring at the stone arch and the words above. “I do get some satisfaction that this is how his money is being spent. I hope that he knows it somehow.”

“Berkley!” A high-pitched voice sounds behind me and I turn around to see Ette break away from her mother and skip up the steps. I lower myself and open my arms as she runs into them. “Mum said you weren’t coming until tomorrow.”

I squeeze her tightly. “We thought we’d come a little early and spend one last night here before it’s officially open.”

Ette’s eyes grow wide and she turns to Hope. “Can we stay here too? Just for tonight? I can stay in my old room.” She turns back to me without waiting for an answer from her mother. “It looks so different now. They changed almost everything. But they still have beds so we should be fine.” Ette takes my hand, pulling me inside the large doors. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Jericho waves me on as Ette tugs me to the stairs. The lighting of the Sanctuary has changed. It’s brighter, happier, with fewer shadows and less mystery. But I miss the creaks of the stairs as we climb. I miss the way the banister felt under my hand, worn and smooth. Now it’s shiny and glossy with a fresh layer of varnish.

“How did the audition go?” I ask Ette when we reach the top of the stairs. I’d helped her with a dance routine to audition for the school talent show. Although it’s a little harder to find the time, I continue with Ette’s dance lessons when I get the chance.

She beams a smile back at me. “It was so good. I’m going to be so much better than anyone else there. Well, anyone else who chooses to dance anyway.”

“Pleased to see you’re not lacking in confidence.” I chuckle.

Ette drags me to the kitchen next, wanting to show me the recent changes. It’s been extended somewhat, allowing a lot more room for Alma to cook. All the staff have chosen to stay on and new staff have been hired. Instead of the hollow and empty hallways, soon the place will be buzzing with activity.

It’s dark by the time Hope comes to take Ette back to their cottage on the hill. Ette protests, wanting to stay one last night, but Hope finds comfort in her own house in a way she never did at the Sanctuary.

I keep wandering alone, submersing myself in the feel of the place. The eeriness and melancholy of the building is gone. It’s as though it knows what awaits it. It’s as though it’s eager to feel the hustle and bustle of life within its walls again.

I run my fingers over the books in the library. I take off my shoes and dip my toes into the water of the pool. I lift my eyes to the chandeliers of the ballroom, and walk from window to window, watching the moonlit landscape unfold from frame to frame.

It’s not until I open the doors of the dance studio that I find some tears gathering in my eyes. Nothing has changed. The baby grand piano still sits in the corner, the glossy blackness of it gleaming in the light. The walls are still the same color. Although the wooden floor appears to have been polished within an inch of its life.

I stare at my reflection in the mirrors that flank the wall. I see none of the girl I used to be staring back at me. I’m no longer Everly, no longer just Berkley. I’m a combination of them both. The broken pieces of me, the strong pieces of me, the darkness and the light, it all remains within me, making me the person I am now. I’m no longer just known as the daughter of a monster. I’m also known as the person who helped bring him down.

Lifting my fingers, I touch the skin of my face as though searching to find some of him within my features. But he’s not there.

He’s gone.

Just like Michael is gone.

Mr Gorman is gone.

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