But today once again she was forced to confront the harm she may have unwittingly caused. In striving to create the illusion of a perfect marriage, which now seemed no more than a tawdry trompe l’oeil, had her actions led to where they were now, with history having repeated itself, just as Geraldine claimed?

Chapter Fifty-Three

Later that afternoon, and while Geraldine and Ellis offered to prepare an early supper together, Naomi suggested to Martha and Willow that the three of them go for a walk while the weather held.

As they trudged along the beach in a strong buffeting wind, shafts of milky light pierced through banks of darkening clouds, and the sea, grey and roiling, resembled Naomi’s churning emotions. But as apprehensive as she felt, she was determined to do what she knew she had to. They’d reached the sand dunes when she decided that this would be where she finally told her daughters the truth.

‘Let’s sit here for a while,’ she said, ‘if it’s not too cold or too uncomfortable for you?’

‘It’s fine by me,’ said Martha, ‘my thermostat seems to be switched to a permanently high setting these days.’

‘Mine too,’ said Willow.

They sat either side of Naomi and she suddenly wanted to put her arms around them both and hold them tight, just as she had when they were little. She felt as though she were about to jump off a cliff and, selfishly, she needed her daughters to stop her from feeling so terrified.

Watching a lone sailing boat in the distance heading around the promontory, perhaps on its way to Bosham harbour, Naomi summoned up her courage. ‘There’s something I have to tell you,’ she began nervously, ‘and I’m very much afraid it’s going to upset you. You might not even want to believe me, but—’

‘Is this about you and Ellis deciding to marry after all?’ interrupted Martha.

‘No,’ she said, ‘it has nothing to do with Ellis. It’s about your father. And Martha, I know how much you loved him, so this will be particularly hard for you to hear.’ She swallowed and once more steeled herself. After a small pause, she carried on in a rush. ‘Earlier today, Geraldine, in her inimitable way, referred to history repeating itself. By that, she meant that your father had a violent streak and when things became too much for him, he lost his temper and his self-control and would sometimes take out his angry frustration on me.’

In the seconds that followed, the sound of the foaming tide dragging at the sand and pebbles, and the cry of a seagull swooping low over the turbulent water, seemed unbearably loud.

‘I don’t believe you,’ said Martha. ‘Not Dad. Why would you say something so awful about him?’

‘Because it’s true.’

‘No! It can’t be. Not Dad.’

‘Martha, it is true,’ said Willow in a voice so faint it was made almost inaudible by a sudden gust of wind. ‘I know it is.’