Her Best Friend's Secret: A gripping, emotional novel about love, life and the power of friendship

by Mansell, Anna

‘We should probably get you back to yours,’ said Mac, checking his watch. ‘We could swing by Mum’s on the way, pick up some of her gingerbread. A friend of mine swore by it when she was pregnant. You know, for the sickness, I mean, not suggesting you’re pregnant. I mean, you don’t look it—’

  ‘Oh! No. I mean…’ Emily felt herself colour and a wave of nausea return. She buried her head in her bag, searching out a tissue for as long as it took to regain her composure. ‘Don’t worry. It’s fine. I’ll be alright soon enough. Yes, let’s go.’

  She climbed back into his truck and they set off steadily, Mac driving a steady pace, hands at ten to two.

  ‘So, was it nice to meet up with old friends then?’

  ‘Yes, I think it was.’

  ‘You don’t sound convinced.’

  ‘No, it was, I just… I suppose a lot has happened in the years since we were really close. We were kids. We’ve changed.’

  ‘So much that you’ve nothing in common any more?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. I think we’re still fundamentally the same people, I mean they all seemed great. I just… I think I felt guarded somehow. Like I couldn’t totally be me.’

  ‘Are you always like that?’ Mac asked, eyes fixed forward on the road up ahead.

  She thought for a moment. ‘I didn’t think so, but the more I’m back home, the more I wonder.’ Emily opened the window, letting her head rest against the seat belt so air could brush past her face.

  ‘You need to stop again?’

  ‘No, no, I’m okay.’

  ‘I haven’t got any more jumpers,’ he joked. Emily smiled. ‘Jess seemed nice,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah, she is. She always was. She was the determined one of us all, the one who’d get stuff done, you know? She was different now though… I suppose you never really know what’s going off in other people’s heads, do you?’

  ‘How so?’

  Emily didn’t want to gossip about Jess. If there was one thing she knew better than most it was how painful people talking about you could be. The judgements, the assumptions, she hated it. ‘I don’t know, maybe she’s not as in control as we’d all have believed. And maybe that makes me feel better.’ Mac didn’t respond and Emily immediately felt bad. ‘That sounds awful, doesn’t it? Oh god, what a horrible thing to say.’

  Mac gave her a quick look and shake of his head, before fixing back on the road. ‘Why is it horrible?’

  ‘Suggesting that her situation makes me feel better, what a narcissist.’

  ‘I think we probably all have the capacity to be a bit narcissistic. I wouldn’t beat yourself up about it. Look, Mum’s probably in the shop. Give me a second, I’ll get you some of that cake. Hang on.’

  But as Mac jumped out of the car, there was a tap on the passenger window. ‘Emily!’ said a familiar American voice.

  She didn’t need to look to know who it was.

  Amanda

  Amanda sat in her lounge, staring at the fire. It was nothing more than amber glowing ashes. The room was getting cold and the timer had thrown one of the corner lights on. Having heard Lolly talk about her hopes for another baby, it just made Amanda all the more torn. She’d never go back on her obligation to clients, but she was a friend to Lolly long before she’d been a service for Kitt and she couldn’t bear the idea of Lolly being so desperate for another baby knowing what she knew about her husband. She picked up her phone to read his messages.

  Just imagine what she’d think of you if she knew

  was one of them, as if Amanda should be ashamed of herself. She never really thought she was, but she had to accept that she must hold some sense of shame somewhere, otherwise she’d tell everyone without fear of retribution.

  If you value your friendship, you’ll say nothing

  was another. Amanda resisted the urge to point out that if he valued his marriage, they wouldn’t be in this situation. There was another three in which he grew increasingly foul in his language and description of her. She’d got abuse before now, men who thought that her career choice meant she was free rein for whatever hatred they wanted to spout. She was generally thick-skinned enough to ignore it but, on this occasion, his superiority made her angry.

  She tapped out a text to him.

  It’s clear you have no respect for me, and I couldn’t care less, but your wife? Perhaps it’s time you told her the truth!

  She clicked send then threw her phone across the sofa. Then her blood ran cold because she never texted clients, and this one in particular, she should be staying well clear of. What if Lolly saw it? What if she tracked her down? Or worse, realised the number was the same. Shit. Shit! Amanda jumped up and paced the room. Why had she just done that? What the hell would she say if Lolly connected the dots? She probably needed to know about what a shit of a husband she had, but not this way. Not through Amanda. When her phone rang, she practically leaped on to it. But instead of Lolly or Kitt, it was Pete.

  ‘Amanda, it’s Zennor. She’s had an accident, we’re on our way to A & E.’

  ‘What! What’s happened? Is she okay?’

  ‘I… I don’t know. I think she’s taken something.’

  ‘She’s taken something! Taken what?’

  ‘We’re not sure. I’m going to try and call round her mates now. Just meet me up at Treliske, okay?’

  ‘I’ve been drinking,’ she said, digging out boots, coat and bag.

  ‘Then you’d better get a taxi and mainline coffee on your way up.’

  ‘Okay, okay. I’m coming.’ She grabbed her keys from the side and flew out of the door. How many times had she told Zennor about drugs? About being careful what she drank and never putting her drink down in a bar. She’d given her the facts, she’d never been one to out and out tell her not to do them because she knew that would likely make Zennor go out and try more, but Christ, she’d hoped the facts would have been sufficient deterrent.

  She looked up and down the road. Sunday. Where was the best place for a cab? Would there even be any? She fumbled in her bag, making sure she had her purse before heading for the nearest taxi rank.

  ‘Amanda! Are you okay?’ said a voice as Amanda ran past the chip shop. Amanda turned to see Jess carrying a bag of drenched chips.

  ‘Jess! I thought you’d be gone by now.’

  ‘I was wandering. Thinking. What’s the matter?’

  ‘It’s Zennor. She’s in A & E. Pete says they think she’s taken something. I don’t know, but my head is fucked and there’s no buses and I can’t drive and I don’t know what to do.’ Amanda put her hands on her hips, heavy breathing as realisation dawned. ‘Shit, Jess. I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Come on, let’s get you up to the hospital. Here, have some chips. I don’t know about you but I was feeling a bit fuzzy by the time I left yours. Ten minutes in the fresh air seeing the girls back off home, I needed these!’

  Amanda hungrily grabbed several chips. ‘Thank you,’ she said, in-between each one.

  ‘There weren’t any cabs at the rank,’ said Jess. ‘I was going to wait for a bus but here, let me call one from our work account.’

  ‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’

  ‘Of course not, hang on. Take these, you probably need them more than me.’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘You can’t turn up pissed. Eat.’ She thrust the bag in Amanda’s hands. ‘Hello. I need a cab on account. Victoria Square up to Treliske, please.’

  Amanda leant against the wall, shielding the chips from a hungry looking gull that squawked above her. ‘Piss off!’ she shouted to it.

  ‘They’ll be here in five,’ Jess said, nicking a chip. ‘Hang on.’ Jess went back into the chip shop for a moment, coming back out with a polystyrene cup of steaming black liquid. ‘I can’t promise it’s decent, but it’ll help. Come on, we can wait by Malletts.’

  ‘I can’t believe this, Jess,’ said Amanda, navigating the snicket. ‘What a fucking day.’

  ‘Well, it was okay, wasn’
t it? When it was just us lot.’

  Amanda nodded but hadn’t forgotten Kitt’s text messages. ‘It was nice, it was lovely in fact…’

  ‘But?’ asked Jess, watching up and down the road for their ride.

  ‘Oh, look. It’s nothing. It was lovely.’

  The cab pulled up and Jess opened the door for Amanda. ‘Come on, in you get. I’ll come up with you, then get it to take me home, if you don’t mind?’

  ‘Of course not, if that’s okay with you?’

  ‘Totally. Come on.’ She took the empty chip cone from Amanda, launching it in a bin before climbing in the back beside her. ‘Treliske, please.’

  They travelled in silence. Up the hill, past the train station. Past Sainsbury’s. They hit a bottleneck of traffic by the Aldi and Amanda stared out of the window, biting her lip.

  ‘Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?’ asked Jess, when they pulled into the hospital drop off zone. ‘I can come in with you, if you like.’

  ‘No, don’t worry. I’ll be fine.’ Amanda climbed out of the taxi, bobbing down to talk to Jess through the open window. ‘Look, thanks, and for today too. I know I went a bit… weird earlier. It’s complicated. But it’s been nice to see you. I’d love to stay in touch. If that’s okay?’

  ‘Of course, you’ve got my number now. Let me know how Zennor is, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  Amanda waved the cab off as it pulled away, took a deep breath, then went off in search of Zennor and Pete.

  Emily

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t mind waiting outside, or coming in, or whatever you need,’ said Mac, eyeing Jackson suspiciously. He’d reluctantly agreed to give Jackson a lift up to her house but kept watching him through the rear-view mirror. Emily wasn’t sure whether to be irritated or relieved by his sudden brotherly concern.

  ‘It’s fine. Don’t worry,’ she said as Jackson grappled with his bags, climbing out of the car. ‘I can handle him.’

  ‘Okay. If you’re sure.’ Mac looked at Jackson again. ‘You’ve got my number. If you need anything, anything at all, just call.’

  ‘Thanks, Mac.’

  ‘And don’t forget your ginger cake. Maybe book in with the docs if things don’t improve. And make sure to drink plenty, replenish the waters, you know?’

  Emily smiled at him. ‘Of course. Thank you. And thanks for the lift… sorry again about your jumper…’ She patted the bag in which she had stuffed it. As he pulled away, down the hill and out of sight, she dropped it in the bin. She’d replace it rather than wash it.

  ‘Who was that?’ asked Jackson, watching Mac drive off, gritting his teeth so his jaw flexed.

  ‘Just one of the guys from the village,’ said Emily, unlocking the door. She opted not to expand because she didn’t have to explain herself to Jackson or anybody. It irked her that he probably thought she was playing games. He made a noise that suggested he was suspicious and she ignored it, instead pausing before she opened her door because she really hadn’t wanted Jackson to know where she was living, let alone have him come inside. ‘Mind your head,’ she instructed.

  Jackson followed her in. She could see his reflection in the mirror, glancing around the entrance hall, peering down steps to the kitchen and over to the lounge. ‘Quaint,’ he said. Which was probably code for small, given that he was really more attuned to wide, open plan spaces with large chandeliers and marble worktops. ‘You never said you wanted to live here,’ he said, accusingly.

  ‘I didn’t know I would.’

  ‘Never thought I might like to come too?’

  ‘I didn’t really think it was your kind of place.’

  ‘It would have been nice to be in on it though. Maybe we could have gone in together, got somewhere bigger.’

  Emily hadn’t wanted bigger. Emily had never wanted bigger. Jackson had encouraged her to think she liked all that, but now she was home, she knew more than ever that quaint, or whatever patronising term he wanted to use, was exactly what she wanted. ‘Tea?’ she asked.

  ‘Anything stronger?’

  Emily dug around, finding a bottle of red in the back of a cupboard. She placed a glass in front of him, motioning for him to take one of the bar stools by the kitchen island. She poured him a glass, feeling faintly green at the smell.

  ‘So,’ said Jackson.

  Emily flicked the kettle on. ‘So.’ She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. That he had turned up unannounced had pissed her off almost as much as the fact that he had sent Mason the last time.

  ‘How’ve you been?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah, good. Fine.’ She cut a slice of ginger cake, taking a large bite as she turned to face him. ‘You?’

  ‘Yeah. Good. Busy, you know. But fine.’ He paused. ‘I guess.’

  ‘Right.’ The cake was hitting the spot so Emily cut another slice. ‘You want some?’ she offered, waving her knife in his direction.

  ‘You’re having more?’

  Emily looked at him. ‘Yes. Would you like some before I finish the whole cake?’

  He raised his eyebrows, disapproving. ‘No. No, thanks.’

  ‘Right.’ She pulled up a stool, sat down opposite him and waited.

  ‘I want you to come home,’ he started.

  ‘I am home.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’ He ran a finger up the stem of the glass and along the rim, ridding it of a smudge she hadn’t noticed. He rubbed his fingers as if ridding himself of dust or germs or whatever else he might have picked up from her glassware. Had he always been like this and she just hadn’t noticed? Or had she chosen to ignore? ‘There’s talk of a new show at Studio 54. You always wanted to play there.’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘I reckon I could definitely get you in without an audition. The producer loves you and owes me a favour.’

  ‘A favour?’ She laughed. ‘Is that what I am now? A favour? I knew things were bad but…’

  ‘Things aren’t bad. You kept saying that, things aren’t bad.’

  ‘You suggested I get surgery on my face.’

  ‘I suggested that for you, because you were unhappy with… things.’

  Emily thought back to the day she’d stood before a mirror and picked at her hips, her sagging boobs, her jawline. All she’d needed was for Jackson to tell her he thought she was beautiful. Instead, he’d given her the name of a mate who might be able to help.

  ‘I miss you, Emily.’

  ‘Me or the pay cheques?’ she said, immediately wishing she hadn’t. She didn’t want to spoil for a fight. She didn’t need the negativity in her life, in her home.

  ‘I miss you, Emily,’ he said again, getting up from his seat and moving towards her. ‘I miss us.’ He pulled her face towards him. ‘I don’t understand why you just left? Was it the clinic? Did you feel guilt about what we did? It was the right decision, baby. We’re just not in that place at the moment. You don’t really want a child, you’d hate it. All the nappies and muck and grubby fingers.’

  He’d hate that, she thought, moving from his touch.

  ‘What changed? What made you just up and leave so suddenly. For you to go without talking to me, without even packing anything.’

  ‘I didn’t need anything. I have it all here.’

  ‘But, I thought we had it good. We had dreams, things we’d not yet achieved.’

  ‘People change. Dreams change.’

  ‘Do they? Really?’

  ‘Yes, Jackson. They do. I’ve changed. I don’t want to live to work any more. I want truth, I want honesty.’

  ‘I’ve never been anything other than honest.’

  Emily looked away. He probably had always been honest, which was more than she was being right now. ‘I want normality.’

  ‘This?’ he asked, incredulous.

  ‘Yes! This! What’s so wrong with this?’ She moved to the sink, gazing out of the window at the grass that needed cutting and the rambling rose that was now in full bloom. ‘This is everything I want. Well…
nearly everything.’ She was under no illusion that becoming a mother would be hard, she’d seen enough women do it to know how difficult it could be, but she wanted the challenge. She wanted to see what she was really made of.

  ‘How was it?’ he asked, gently. Emily’s shoulders dropped. ‘I kept thinking about you having to go through with it on your own. I just … I couldn’t get away, babe. I know that must have hurt, but I really couldn’t. I called you.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You never called back. You didn’t even answer my text messages. When Mason came, it was only because I couldn’t leave straight away. I’ve had to sort a lot out to come now, it’s not ideal…’ Emily bit the inside of her lip. ‘But for you to do something like this, I guess I knew you had to be desperate, and all I could think was how hard it must have been, how sad you must have felt. How empty…’ Jackson moved beside her, slipping his arms around her waist, his hands resting on her stomach making her flinch and move away. ‘We did the right thing, Emily. You know we did.’

  ‘Jackson…’ She turned to face him.

  ‘You need me, Emily. We need each other.’

  ‘Do we? Or was it habit? Was it just because it was comfortable to stay together? When I talked to you about the baby you just—’

  ‘Maybe we can talk about it again, in a few years’ time. Maybe things will change. Maybe there will be a better time.’

  ‘Jackson.’

  ‘Don’t do this to us, Emily. Don’t ruin everything—’

  ‘I didn’t go through with it,’ she said, her voice low, frightened. Jackson froze, staring. ‘I couldn’t do it. I know I said I would, but I just couldn’t. I needed more time. That’s why I’m here…’ Jackson said nothing and Emily’s heart fractured. ‘And now I know I want this baby, I need it. It’s right for me. I know you don’t want to be a father, I don’t expect anything of you. I am not coming to you for support, you just have a right to know. And now you do.’

  ‘But we agreed…’ he said, stepping back away from her.