The Secrets We Share

by Emma Hannigan

  Sadly, Ava acknowledged that the thing that still hurt most of all was how Max could have allowed his best friend Sean to do what he did to her … They’d been extremely close growing up. Surely that counted for something? What about blood being thicker than water?

  Knowing she couldn’t hold back any longer, Ava stood up and marched from the park. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tripped along the footpath to the edge of town and turned towards the graveyard. She found her familiar spot instantly. Reading the name on the granite stone over and over again, she sobbed for the love she’d lost and cursed Max for not even knowing about her pain.

  Chapter 4

  Nathalie had found silence easier than speaking lately. As far as she was concerned, there was nothing worth saying and nobody worth saying it to. Her parents were tormented and looked at her with an expression of sheer pain each time she walked in the room.

  DJ was the only one who didn’t annoy her. The beauty of his job at the garage was the fact that his father never noticed if he was there or not. Besides, his folks were ice-box cool. They didn’t correct him if he cursed, thought nothing of his drinking and wouldn’t dream of asking him where he was going or what time he’d be home. He’d very little ambition, a fact that used to irk her before. But right now, it suited her mood just perfectly.

  They’d taken to sitting in places like the water park and drinking beer. Nathalie didn’t care for the taste. It was gassy as hell too, but the effects helped to numb the pain.

  Of her parents, her mom was being the most annoying. Her father was his usual quiet and brooding self, with fifty per cent extra oddness added for good measure. Thankfully he didn’t want her to express her feelings the way her mom did. This morning had started off on the wrong footing. Mom had wanted to discuss her inner thoughts before she’d even had breakfast.

  ‘It’s not good to harbour all these emotions, Nathalie. We all miss Mackenzie. She’s been a part of our lives for fourteen years. Let me help you.’

  ‘Can you bring Mackenzie back from the dead?’ Nathalie asked coldly. ‘Can you fly like Superman up to the edge of the earth and reverse time?’

  ‘Nathalie, please …’

  ‘Nobody can change a damn thing about what’s happened. I don’t want to talk about it because it’s not going to solve it. So let’s drop it, yeah?’

  She’d gladly hitched a ride with Max. He was going to work. Well, that wasn’t new. He spent most of his time there anyway, but since Mackenzie’s accident he was there morning, noon and night.

  ‘Will you be home for dinner?’ Amber asked him.

  ‘You go ahead without me. I’ll grab something in the canteen. It’s really busy right now. There are a few consultants taking summer leave, so I need to be there to fill the gaps.’

  Nathalie looked at her mother’s desolate face and almost crumbled. She didn’t blame Mom for Mackenzie’s death, but it was easier to hate her than try to love her. Loving people hurt. They died and then there was a massive gaping hole that would never go away.

  ‘Nathalie, will you be here?’

  ‘Nope. I’m hanging with DJ. See ya.’ She quashed the horrible sense of guilt. She didn’t enjoy knowing she was hurting her mom. But she couldn’t start deep, meaningful conversations. It would tip her over the edge. She couldn’t allow herself to think too much about what had happened. She couldn’t admit to anyone that she was having vivid flashbacks of the moments leading up to the crash. Nor did she want to relive the intensely loud scraping sound as that massive truck had scooped the limousine on to its side, tossing it as if it were made of paper.

  The postman arrived just as they were leaving. Nathalie got into the car and sat waiting for her father to join her.

  ‘Another pile of bills,’ he said, throwing them on to the dashboard. ‘There’s one for you,’ he added absent-mindedly. He shot the car into reverse and they made their way on to the main road.

  ‘Who is yours from?’ he asked, trying to catch her eye.

  ‘Dunno,’ Nathalie answered. ‘I’ll check later on. Might be another card. The kids from our school year have been super-kind at sending little memories through along with photos.’

  ‘People can be very thoughtful.’

  Nathalie didn’t answer. She shoved the letter into her bag and closed her eyes, letting her dad know she wasn’t prepared to continue talking. As soon as DJ’s garage came into view and they stopped in the traffic, she opened the door.

  ‘You can’t get out in the middle of the road. Where are you going?’

  ‘I’m calling for DJ,’ she said as she leaned into the car. ‘See ya.’

  Her father had little choice but to drive on as impatient commuters beeped their horns at him.

  There was nobody at the garage, so she called DJ’s cell. He didn’t answer. She perched on the broken wall outside and waited for what seemed like an eternity, but DJ didn’t show. After half an hour, she called him again. It went to voicemail once more.

  She wandered around aimlessly, not sure of how to pass the time. She made her way to the off licence and waited outside. Nobody she knew came along, so she approached a homeless guy sitting on the sidewalk.

  ‘If I give you money, will you go in and buy me some vodka?’

  ‘What’s in it for me?’

  ‘What I get, you get.’

  ‘Sure thing, kiddo.’ He stood up, snatched her money and hurried inside. He emerged moments later with a dizzy grin.

  ‘This day’s looking up. Nice doin’ business with ya, little lady.’

  Nathalie found a bench and sat down. Swigging from a brown-paper-wrapped bottle wasn’t her usual style, but nothing that was going on right now was exactly as she’d planned it.

  By midday, the beating sun was starting to get to her. She’d found a shaded area but she and vodka weren’t a great combination, and the spinning in her head wasn’t fun. Nathalie knew she needed sleep. Staggering as she went, she made her way towards home. A fifteen-minute drive on the motorway seemed easy, but she found it quite different on foot with over half the bottle of vodka swilling around her insides.

  She lost track of time and eventually pitched up at the house.

  ‘Nathalie!’ Amber was in the front yard, tending to the neat row of plants. ‘What’s happened to you?’

  ‘Leave it, Mom. I need my bed.’ She tossed her bag on the floor in the hallway and took the bottle wrapped in brown paper with her. Amber shot in after her looking as if she would pass out in shock.

  ‘Have you been drinking?’

  ‘Yup, and as you can see, I still am. It’s actually quite good. You should try it more often. Might loosen you up a bit. Make you less uptight. You know, Mom, you need to get a life … Dad has his hospital stuff going on. What do you do? Look pretty for a living? Fuck that shit …’

  ‘Nathalie!’

  Nathalie stared at her mom. Her expression was priceless.

  ‘Mom, you crack me up!’ she said, batting her leg with her floppy hand. ‘Woo, Nathalie’s cursing and drunk. What will the ladies who lunch think of that? This is a scandal! How will we cope? What if one of the rich fat cats on the hospital board hears that Mr Conway’s daughter drinks vodka with bums on the sidewalk? Hey, didn’t she have like a super-duper education? What went wrong?’ She laughed hysterically as her head rolled heavily.

  ‘Stop it,’ Amber said, putting her hand to her mouth in shock. ‘You need to sleep it off.’

  Before Nathalie could protest, Amber had snatched the bottle away from her.

  Nathalie figured it might be a good plan to have a quick snooze. As she lay back against the cool softness of the pillow, voices shot through her head. From Mackenzie to DJ to the homeless guy. They were all mocking her and telling her she was a loser.

  Amber phoned Max with shaking hands. His cell went directly to voicemail. She called the hospital and asked his secretary to give him an urgent message to call home.

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ the woman said solemnly. ‘He’s in
surgery for another hour, but I’ll make sure he knows you’re looking for him.’

  Sighing and fighting back tears, Amber plucked Nathalie’s bag from the hall floor. The contents spilled out, and she was stuffing them back inside when her hand grazed a letter.

  Taking it into the kitchen, she examined the stamp. It was from Ireland. She knew it was wrong to open a letter addressed to someone else, but she couldn’t help herself.

  Nothing could have prepared her for the shock of what was inside.

  Gasping, she tried to maintain control as the reality of what she was reading sank in. Surely this couldn’t be true?

  Amber tried to take stock of what was happening. How could Max have lied all these years? He’d told her his parents were dead. That his father had died when he was a small child and his mother soon before he came to the States. That was his reason for switching his medical degree from the university in Dublin.

  So that meant Sean had lied too? But why?

  As she pictured Max’s wayward yet oddly charming friend, she saw a slightly naive but kindly guy. Why had they both covered the past so guardedly? What were they hiding?

  Her hand hovered over the phone. She longed to call Sean and put him on the spot. He was kind of gormless, or at least she’d thought he was. Would he confess if she confronted him? Why on earth had he and Max fled Ireland? All sorts of dreadful scenarios began to play through her mind. Had they been in trouble of some kind? Had they hurt someone? What could cause a man to turn his back on his family?

  Flailing, Amber read the letter twice over.

  This woman sounded sincere and genuine. Curiosity began to plague her as she flipped open her laptop. Googling ‘Clara Conway’, she was disappointed, as very little information popped up. There was a small newspaper article about the reopening of a newly expanded clothing store in a town called Lochlann. But there were no pictures. Clara wasn’t on any of the usual social media sites. There seemed to be very little trace of this woman who she’d always thought was dead.

  By the time Nathalie emerged with bloodshot eyes and matted hair a couple of hours later, Amber was so fired up she felt she could self-combust.

  She’d called the hospital twice more and Max still hadn’t answered. So she’d made an executive decision, the result of which she was more than ready to share with her daughter.

  ‘Hello, Nathalie,’ she said calmly.

  Nathalie screwed up her face and exhaled loudly.

  ‘I feel rough.’

  ‘Why am I not surprised?’ Amber said drily. ‘So while you were sleeping off the alcohol you illegally consumed in the street with a stranger, I’ve booked you a trip.’

  ‘Huh?’ Nathalie pulled the fridge door open and fished out a large carton of juice. Flipping the lid, she drank thirstily. Ordinarily such slovenly behaviour would irk Amber, but in the scheme of things, this was simply par for the course. She perched on a high stool and folded her arms, waiting for Nathalie to respond.

  ‘My head wrecks. Where’s the Tylenol?’

  Amber waited silently.

  Nathalie rooted in the medicine cupboard and swallowed two pills.

  ‘I’m going back to bed.’

  ‘There’s no time for that,’ Amber said evenly. ‘You need to pack, and I’ll help.’

  ‘What are you on about, Mom?’ Nathalie asked with immense irritation.

  ‘You’re going to Ireland on the early morning flight. You need to pack and then get some sleep. We leave for the airport at five o’clock.’

  ‘What?’ Nathalie rounded on her. ‘Are you insane? Why are we going to Ireland?’

  ‘We aren’t going, my dear. You are.’

  ‘On my own?’ Nathalie looked slightly less irate.

  ‘You’re going to spend some time with your Oma.’

  ‘My what?’

  ‘Oma. It’s Austrian for grandma. She’s your father’s mother. Her name is Clara and she’s invited you to stay. I’ve spoken to her on the phone and booked your flight. You leave in the morning, as I mentioned.’

  ‘What the actual fuck?’ Nathalie looked like springs were going to pop out of her ears. ‘First of all, Daddy’s folks are dead. Secondly, what’s the Austria thing? He’s totally Irish. He sounds nothing like an Austrian, whatever they sound like. Don’t they speak German?’

  ‘Yes they do, but it turns out his mother moved from Austria to Ireland as a child. She still has a strong accent when she speaks English, though …’ Amber mused.

  ‘What?’ Nathalie shook her head. ‘You’re kidding me, right?’

  ‘No.’ Amber stood and walked towards the kitchen door. ‘We don’t have much time. Let’s get packing.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere!’ Nathalie scoffed. ‘And you can’t make me.’

  ‘Actually, Nathalie, I can and I will. If you think I’m going to sit by and watch you destroy your life, you don’t know me very well. I have no idea how to help you. I’ve felt as if my feet were set in concrete since Mackenzie died. Clara wants to meet you and is happy for you to stay with her for a while. Job done.’

  ‘I’m not some stupid project for you and the other bored housewives at the hospital foundation, Mom. You can’t just send me halfway across the world to some stranger who’s meant to be dead.’

  Nathalie continued to shout as she followed her mother to the bedroom. Amber pulled out a suitcase and was putting clothes inside in spite of the ranting.

  The sound of the front door slamming sent Nathalie charging to the hall.

  ‘Tell Mom I’m not going to Ireland,’ she yelled. ‘You can’t make me.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ Max said. ‘Amber?’

  ‘I’m in here in Nathalie’s room,’ she called back.

  Max shot in, looking frantic.

  ‘What’s Nathalie saying?’

  Amber pulled Clara’s letter from the back pocket of her jeans and shoved it at Max.

  ‘Oh sweet Jesus,’ he said as he collapsed onto the bed. In silence he read the letter. ‘She had no right …’ His face was florid with rage as he threw the pages on the floor.

  ‘Amazing, isn’t it?’ Amber said coldly. ‘How she managed to come back from the dead and write to her granddaughter.’

  ‘Amber …’

  ‘Don’t, Max,’ she said holding her hand up. ‘Right now I can only concentrate on one thing. When our daughter arrived home having consumed most of a bottle of vodka she’d gotten a homeless person to buy her, I figured she needed help. I called your cell and secretary all afternoon, but you didn’t see fit to answer. So I took matters into my own hands. As usual I’ve been left to deal with everything on my own.’

  ‘I was in surgery!’ he shouted.

  ‘With no break? And you didn’t switch your cell on before you came home?’

  ‘I’m under a lot of pressure, Amber. The hospital is making massive cuts and I’ve been loaded with extra work …’

  ‘You need to get that sorted,’ Amber flared. ‘The board can’t expect you to work non-stop. You’re not a machine.’

  ‘I know that, but right now isn’t the time to lay down the law. I’ve seen esteemed colleagues being handed their marching papers. I need to toe the line for a while longer until I know the situation is less volatile.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Amber said. ‘Meanwhile, I’ll deal with our daughter, who is rapidly falling apart, just in case you hadn’t time to notice.’

  ‘Amber, please … I need you to understand …’

  ‘Which bit, Max? The part where you lied about your family? Or the brooding silences that often last for weeks? Where do you want to begin?’

  Max stood rigidly and stared at the floor.

  ‘Nathalie leaves on the early flight in the morning.’

  ‘No I don’t!’ Nathalie shouted. ‘I’m so not going to some crummy place where I know nobody.’

  Amber gave her a steely stare and continued talking to Max. ‘I spoke with your mother briefly. I explained that our daughter is in crisis right no
w and that I fear for her sanity.’

  ‘And after all that she said she’d take her?’ Max said with a bitter laugh.

  ‘In a nutshell, yes,’ Amber said. ‘She sounds like a very clued-in and sweet old lady. I don’t know what went on with you guys but I did make a point of letting her know that I’d thought she was dead.’

  ‘Thanks for that!’ Max threw his hands in the air. ‘Excellent! This day just gets better and better.’

  Before she could retort, Amber watched her husband storm out of the room. When the front door slammed, she shuddered. The argument with Max would have to wait. Nathalie was her priority now.

  Continuing with the packing, she tried to include all the warm clothes she could find.

  ‘You don’t have many sweaters,’ she mused. ‘I’ll give you cash and you can pick some up. European fashions are meant to be stunning.’

  ‘Will you quit acting as if I’m going on some amazing vacation?’ Nathalie shouted. ‘I’m not going.’

  Amber stood up and pushed her shoulders back. Taking a deep breath, she spoke calmly, clearly and with conviction. Nathalie didn’t need to know that she was quivering inside and felt as if she would pass out with fear.

  ‘You will do as I say. Nothing is going to get better around here until you stop and take a look at your life and how you want to play it from here on in. You’re young, you’re terrified, you’re grieving and you can’t be expected to work this out alone. So I’m helping you. That’s my job as your mother. You have a choice. You can go quietly or you can do so with a police escort.’

  ‘You wouldn’t,’ Nathalie said, looking truly scared for a fleeting moment.

  ‘Watch me,’ Amber said. She’d no clue whether the police department would even take her call if she asked them to intervene, but miraculously Nathalie backed down. It was as if she’d run out of steam.

  She certainly wasn’t helpful with the packing but she stopped yelling and resisting. By the time they fell into bed that night, both women were exhausted.