The Secrets We Share

by Emma Hannigan

  ‘At first I think it was a wonderful way for Mama to avoid having panic attacks. She suffered with post-traumatic stress disorder after Bergen-Belsen. Most of the time she could control it, but I knew it was an ongoing struggle. When I left school, Mama made my prom dress. I had a matching velvet coat with the most incredible sequin detailing down the front and on the cuffs. I’d never had so much attention!’

  Clara went on to explain that Hannah was usually immersed in looking after her boarders, but any time she was idle, the sweating would begin and her stricken look returned.

  ‘If I suggested we sew for a bit, her shoulders would relax and the terrified look I’d become used to detecting would soften. The light came back into her eyes and I knew she was back with me again.

  ‘Orders came in thick and fast from other girls and even their mothers. There were very few high street fashion stores catering for women, and the only shops that sold evening gowns and wedding dresses were extortionately expensive.

  ‘We were making good money on the designs, but the house became a little crowded. Mama took matters into her own hands and approached Mr Wigfield, a property owner in Lochlann who had a small premises on the main street that had just become vacant. He had three young daughters, and Mama said she would make each girl a dress for Christmas, one for Easter and another on her birthday in exchange for the first two years of rent.’

  ‘What a brilliant idea! Bartering at its best,’ Nathalie said.

  ‘As I’ve said so many times, Mama was astonishingly practical. She didn’t look at conundrums feeling she couldn’t solve them; she knew there was usually a straightforward way of getting things done. In fact, she was often far too direct for comfort. She had no problem with telling a woman, young or old, that something didn’t suit them.

  ‘“You’d be prettier in a grain sack … That makes you look as wide as a ship … That colour enhances one thing, the broken veins in your cheeks …” I used to laugh out loud at some of the things she came out with. The most hilarious part was that she was utterly unaware of the offence some women took. She’d tut and tell them to dash back into the changing room and put on something else. Then she’d wave her arms and exclaim how much better they looked in a different dress.’

  ‘Honesty is the best policy in a boutique,’ Nathalie said. ‘There’s nothing worse than some insincere person oozing all over you and saying you look fabulous when you know you look a fright.’

  ‘You and Mama would’ve been a force to be reckoned with.’

  ‘How did she cope with the bookkeeping and the business end of things?’

  ‘Ah, she had a great plan for that too. She approached Mr White, the maths teacher at St Herbert’s, and made a dress for his wife for the annual Christmas ball in exchange for his doing our bookkeeping.’

  ‘Brilliant!’ Nathalie grinned.

  ‘She was fantastic at making money stretch, so she always kept back enough of the profit to buy fabric.’

  ‘It sounds as if you had a constant stream of eager customers, mind you.’

  ‘Yes, we did. In fact women used to travel from all over the country to order gowns. I remember sitting at the kitchen table with a hugely pregnant belly sewing lace appliqué on to a wedding dress while Mama chopped up a fur jacket.’

  ‘Chopped up a fur jacket? A real one?’ Nathalie asked.

  ‘She started a restyling service for fur coats. Wealthy women who had full-length mink coats they didn’t like any more came to us, and for a small fee Mama would cut them to the newly fashionable short length and add a large sparkly button or a new double cuff. We’d be paid and would usually end up with wonderful fur trimmings, which she turned into stoles or luxurious collars for winter gowns.’

  ‘Wow, she was some businesswoman!’

  ‘Most of her acumen came from necessity and living with so little for so long, rather than a conscious desire to become rich. She wasted nothing, took nothing for granted and saw potential in even the cheapest and most lacklustre fabrics.’

  ‘So when did Ava get involved?’ Nathalie wanted to know.

  ‘From the time she was a couple of weeks old! We were so busy that I couldn’t leave Mama to do it all alone. Ava was popped into her pram and brought to the shop as soon as I recovered from the birth.’

  ‘No such thing as maternity leave back then!’

  ‘Well not in our shop, I can tell you! I don’t think I ever consciously planned to stay at the shop all my working life. But it felt right and I thoroughly enjoyed it. More than that, Mama and I became so much closer. We built a business and a relationship all at once. We were rich beyond our wildest dreams, in every sense of the word. The shop made a tidy profit and we rarely spent much. It was a little gold mine in a way.’

  She described how Ava had displayed a talent for colour and design from a young age and was happy to join them in the business. She bought the adjoining units and expanded the boutique, making it into the thriving emporium it was today.

  ‘Do you think she’d consider allowing me to help out?’ Nathalie asked.

  ‘I’m sure she’d be honoured and delighted. It makes my heart glad to know that you’ll spend a bit of time there. You’ll be the fourth generation to walk those floorboards. There’s no pressure for you to stay, either. If your heart is set on medicine, that too is a tradition in the Conway family.’

  Nathalie lay there thinking. Would her parents have a complete meltdown if she said she wanted to defer medical school? She didn’t want to cause them any further distress, but she was certain this was the right thing for her to do. As she knew only too well, life wasn’t a dress rehearsal; she only had one shot at it and she knew this move would make her happy. Conor’s beaming face and cheerful laugh wasn’t far from her mind either.

  Chapter 32

  Max had talked it through with Amber once Ava left that morning and both of them agreed that Clara had a right to know the truth about Jacob and Alina and Frank.

  Feeling nervous, he hailed a cab and asked the driver to take him to his mother’s house.

  As soon as Clara spotted him through the window, she rushed to open the door.

  ‘Hello there,’ she said sunnily. ‘Nathalie is taking a bath. She’s pumping out that fun pop music she loves. It’s a hoot having someone booming music again,’ she said. ‘I’m a bit florid in the face, I’d say. I was dancing!’

  Max smiled in spite of his heavy heart. His mother really was completely bats. They ventured to the kitchen-cum-diner, where he perched on a chair.

  ‘So, spit it out,’ Clara said. ‘Say what you need to say.’

  Max smiled and shook his head.

  ‘I haven’t seen you for two decades and you can still read me like a book,’ he said.

  ‘I’m your mother, Max. Even if I didn’t see you for thirty years, I’d still know you.’

  He nodded silently. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a deep breath.

  ‘It’s about Jacob,’ he said.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Mama, he didn’t die in a car crash. He committed suicide.’

  Clara’s hand shot to her mouth as she gasped.

  ‘Tell me what you know,’ she said.

  Once Max started talking, he couldn’t stop. The whole sorry story of Jacob’s illness and Frank and Alina’s discovery poured forth.

  ‘So you knew all this time …’ Clara looked over at him and tilted her head to the side.

  ‘I’m so terribly sorry, Mama,’ he said as tears trickled slowly down his unshaven face.

  Standing up from her chair, Clara walked to him and held her arms out.

  ‘You poor darling boy,’ she said as she pulled him into her arms. ‘You’ve held that terrible secret in your heart all this time.’

  ‘But I thought you’d hate me,’ he said. ‘I was certain you’d never want to speak to me again once you knew I’d deprived you of the chance to get back in touch with Alina and Frank.’

  ‘All I feel right now is desperate sadness fo
r Jacob’s poor tortured soul. I hope he’s at peace. But most of all I am exceptionally pleased to know that Alina and Frank didn’t detest me.’

  ‘I should have told you long ago,’ Max said. ‘I had no right to leave you in the dark. I could have saved you years of torment.’

  ‘Let’s not look back, Max,’ she said, sighing deeply. ‘There’s no point. We can’t change any of it. The future is more important.’

  Clara’s usual answer to major problems, coffee and cake, was produced. They savoured the combination of sweet soft sponge and bitter strong coffee.

  ‘There’s something else bothering you,’ Clara stated, looking into his eyes. ‘What is it?’

  He smiled wryly. ‘I’ve been an idiot with Amber …’

  He explained about the mix-up with Amy and how he’d been so emotionally absent with his girls over the years.

  ‘You were doing your best, Max. Sometimes when you concentrate so hard on making work a success, home life slips. I know you would do anything for your girls. Any fool can see how much you love them. You’ve been sucked into the pressures of helping your colleagues and building your career. You have lots of time to put things right with Nathalie and Amber.’

  ‘I’m a horrible person,’ he stated.

  ‘No, Liebling, you’re not. You’re only a man. Human nature is a complex thing and none of us is perfect.’

  ‘I’ve been very good at blaming other people for things over the years. Everyone else was at fault in some way or another. Everyone except me.’ He shook his head and wiped his tears with the back of his hand. ‘How did I get to be such an arrogant shit?’

  ‘If you hadn’t a dash of arrogance, you wouldn’t have made it as a surgeon. But we all have traits that mightn’t be lovely. Becoming aware of them is the key. Being a shit is your own addition,’ she said with a poker face. ‘I can’t help you with that.’ He laughed.

  ‘So what do you think I should do about Amber? I know she’s feeling neglected and I want to show her how much I love her.’

  ‘I think you should spend the rest of your life cherishing her and reminding her just how you feel about her. It won’t be difficult. I did it with Gus and the pleasure was all mine. My affair with Jacob made us stronger in the long run. Our marriage was rock solid and so was our friendship. It can be done. You need to be prepared to work hard, though.’

  He nodded. ‘I need to forge a better relationship with Nathalie too. She needs to know how much I adore her.’

  Clara smiled.

  Max looked at his watch and realised the morning had run away with him. He promised to see Clara and Nathalie later that evening.

  ‘Why don’t you both come to the hotel for dinner tonight?’

  ‘Phone and let me know,’ Clara said. ‘You and Amber may need a bit of breathing space.’

  As soon as Max had gone, Nathalie walked into the room.

  ‘There you are,’ said Clara. ‘What have you been up to? The music went off so I thought you might have gone out to see Conor.’

  ‘I was in the sewing room. I need to get my head straight before I talk to my folks. I didn’t want to tell Dad about my idea of staying without Mom being here.’

  Clara explained that they had a loose arrangement to meet for dinner that evening.

  ‘Cool, that’d be perfect. Is Aunt Ava coming?’

  ‘Not that I know of. I’m not sure what she’s up to,’ Clara said absent-mindedly.

  Nathalie tugged her Oma’s hand and they went into the sewing room. The quilt was almost complete.

  ‘I’d like everyone in the family to sew on a patch. That would make it really special.’

  ‘What a lovely idea,’ Clara said. ‘I’ve helped so I don’t need to add to it.’

  ‘Oh no!’ Nathalie joked. ‘You don’t get away with it that easily. I want you to do a special one that has meaning for you.’

  Pondering for a moment, Clara walked to her shelves and picked out a plastic bag with dark green fabric inside.

  ‘This is the remnants of the material Mama used to make the beautiful velvet coat for my prom. This very fabric started off the idea for our shop. I think it will be an apt reminder of all the generations of women who have been involved. My mama because she bought and sewed it, Ava because she grew up in the shop and has taken it over, and the two of us because we are doing this together.’

  Nathalie stroked the kitten-soft fabric in awe.

  ‘That’s really special, Oma, thank you.’

  Nathalie had a great feeling inside. She knew she was making the right decision to remain in Ireland. She hoped her parents would understand.

  ‘Would you mind if I go for a quick walk? I won’t be long,’ she said.

  ‘I think you could do with some fresh air,’ Clara agreed. ‘Besides,’ she looked intently at what she was doing, ‘I doubt you put on all that make-up and that belly top for my benefit.’

  Nathalie bounded down to the beach. She didn’t even need to wave. Herbie and Conor were already there.

  ‘Nathalie, I’m delighted to lay eyes upon you,’ Conor said, bowing dramatically.

  ‘Guess what?’ she said, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  ‘Er, you’ve won the lottery?’ he guessed.

  ‘Sort of,’ she grinned. ‘Life’s lottery, that is. I think I’m gonna stay here in Ireland for a bit.’

  ‘Seriously?’ he said, looking thrilled. ‘So you’ll be my Nathalie for a lot longer? Herbie,’ he called. ‘It worked, we’ve beguiled her!’

  As Conor kissed her and swung her around, Nathalie giggled.

  ‘Oh no you don’t,’ she screeched as he plucked her off the ground and headed at full tilt towards the ocean.

  Chapter 33

  Ava had tried on almost all the dresses in her wardrobe. Her bed looked as if a clothing recycling bank had exploded all over it. No matter what she put on, she didn’t feel good enough to meet Sean.

  She had no idea what sort of man Sean had turned out to be. But she desperately wanted to impress him. At the very worst she wanted to be sure she didn’t disappoint him. She pulled her hair back off her face and scrutinised her wrinkles. She’d never thought of having Botox, but right at this moment she’d administer it herself with a sewing needle if she could get her hands on some.

  She’d applied her make-up but was sweating so badly it was beginning to slide down her face. Opening the bedroom window, she stuck her head out and took some deep breaths.

  Conscious that she could be spotted in her bra and knickers from the car park below, she retreated and found a plain black shift dress. She knew it would complement her figure while looking sophisticated. She paired it with black peep-toes and a simple clutch bag; her trusty string of Chanel pearls added class without being too over the top.

  Her hand hovered over the three bottles of perfume on her dressing table. She still owned a bottle of Chanel No. 5. That was the scent she’d worn way back in the day. That was the one Sean would recall. Her heart thumping, she dabbed it on her pulse points and left the apartment.

  She was a few minutes early and figured she’d have plenty of time for a glass of white wine to steady her nerves. She planned to be sitting on a high stool by the bar when he arrived, legs crossed, back straight, tummy pulled in and hair over one shoulder.

  As she slammed the taxi door at the hotel entrance and stood back, her foot clipped the wheelie suitcase of a passing tourist and she lunged sideways.

  ‘Oops-a-daisy,’ she said, luckily finding her footing.

  ‘That’s the first time in twenty years I’ve heard anybody use that phrase.’ She looked up and locked eyes with Sean.

  ‘Oh!’ she gasped. ‘I wasn’t expecting you just yet.’

  ‘No, me neither. I was hoping to go for a sneaky pint to give me some Dutch courage,’ he admitted.

  She straightened her dress and attempted to arrange herself a little better. As if rooted to the spot, he stared at her.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, and an involuntar
y smile spread across her face. Automatically he leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. She’d forgotten how tall he was. He looked almost exactly the same. His hair was slightly thinner and a lot greyer, but his expression hadn’t changed. He inhaled deeply.

  ‘Chanel Number Five.’

  She nodded.

  ‘Let’s get inside and order some drinks,’ he suggested. ‘I think we both need one.’

  It felt easy to slip her hand into the crook of his offered arm. She was more secure that way. It wouldn’t have felt right to totter behind or ahead of him. The porter opened the door and offered to take Sean’s bag.

  ‘I haven’t checked in yet, but I need to meet with this lady first,’ he said.

  ‘Of course, sir. I’ll leave it at reception and let them know you’ve arrived.’

  Ava perched on a high stool as planned, and Sean stood beside her, leaning against the bar.

  ‘You look incredible,’ he said.

  ‘I do?’ She looked doubtful.

  ‘I’d forgotten how stunning you are … I knew there was a good reason why I’ve never been able to find anyone who even comes close to you over the years.’

  She wanted to swat him and tell him he was being a corny silver-tongued chancer, but instead she had to fight back tears.

  ‘You look great too,’ she managed. ‘Better than I thought I’d find you …’

  ‘Cheers,’ he said, and nudged her with his shoulder.

  ‘That didn’t come out the way I intended,’ she said. ‘I’m overwhelmed to see you, Sean.’

  Their drinks arrived and they had no difficulty chatting. His openness astonished her. He didn’t try to big himself up or show off. There wasn’t a hint of anger or bitterness in his tone and he made it plain that he was thrilled to be home and to see her.

  They ordered bar food and she was surprised to realise she was ravenously hungry.

  He asked her to tell him more about Angelina, which she did with great joy, finding it liberating rather than traumatic.

  ‘She was so beautiful,’ she finished.

  ‘Of course she was.’

  Ava found Sean intoxicating. She waited until her bladder was at bursting point to even excuse herself to go to the ladies’. When she returned, he was standing waiting.