by Louise Guy
OTHER TITLES BY LOUISE GUY:
Everyday Lies
A Winning Betrayal
A Life Worth Living
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2020 by Louise Guy
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Lake Union Publishing, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542015974
ISBN-10: 1542015979
Cover design by Sarah Whittaker
In loving memory of my kind and generous grandmother
Phyllis Budd 1905–1995
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Prologue
EIGHTEEN YEARS EARLIER
Nat braced herself, inched the front door open and slipped inside. Her father was going to kill her. She’d promised to be home by five for her mother’s birthday celebration and it was now just after seven. Hopefully they wouldn’t have done the cake yet and she could redeem herself with a few nice words. Relief settled over her as she saw that the hallway was clear, allowing her another minute or two before she felt the full force of her parents’ disappointment. She sighed as she shook off her winter coat and opened the hall closet. If only they could remember being fifteen and in love for the first time. In love? Did she love Callum? She smiled at the memory of being wrapped in his strong arms, the tingle of his lips on hers.
Footsteps clattered in the hallway, causing Nat to freeze. She was just able to make out her older sister’s lean frame through the join in the closet door. She let out a breath and took a hanger from the rack. ‘Thank God, it’s you. Dad’s going to go mental that I’m so late. Can you back me up when I tell him Perry asked me to do a few extra hours at the newsagent?’
Nat finished hanging her coat, closed the closet door and grinned as she turned to Hannah. ‘Sorry to ask you to lie again but he’s way too overprotective when it comes to me and boys.’ Her grin slipped as she took in her sister’s pale, tear-stained face. She hurried over to her. ‘Han, what’s happened? You look awful.’
The vein in Hannah’s forehead twitched, a sign that usually meant she was upset or angry. Nat was sure she hadn’t done anything to cause this kind of reaction in her sister. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time they’d even argued; they were usually extremely close. Only that morning they’d been talking about their annual Christmas in July party that was just over a week away, and Hannah had laughed at how it surprised her friend Abbie that she and Nat threw a joint party. ‘Abbie can’t stand her sister and has never understood how you and I choose to spend time together,’ she’d said. ‘It makes me realise how lucky we are.’ Looking at Hannah’s face now, Nat wasn’t sure her sister was feeling the same as she had been earlier in the day.
‘Where have you been? You’ve been missing for hours. You can’t just go off anywhere you like without keeping in touch.’ Hannah’s voice shook as she forced the words out.
But it wasn’t anger that tinged her words, it was something else. Something Nat couldn’t put her finger on. A sudden and overwhelming sense of dread settled over her. Her throat constricted with panic as confused thoughts swirled in her mind. She’d lied to her parents but she’d told Hannah of her real plans. Hannah had been happy to cover for her, as she always was. It was one of the things she loved most about her sister – she could always count on her. So why was she making Nat feel like she’d done something wrong? Maybe she just needed a gentle reminder, then everything would be okay. ‘Han, I told you I’d be with Callum. Did you forget?’
‘I called Callum’s mum but she had no idea where you were. You’re not to disappear like that again.’
Nat’s stomach churned. Not only was Hannah upset with her, she’d called Callum’s mum? Her parents would freak if they knew she’d been with him. ‘Do Mum and Dad know where I was?’
Hannah shook her head before closing her eyes momentarily. She looked completely distraught.
Nat continued to stare at her sister. She should feel relieved that Hannah had covered for her, but she felt anything but relief. Pain was etched deep in Hannah’s face. ‘Han, what’s wrong? What’s happened?’
Hannah wrapped her arms around her body, her bottom lip trembling as she opened her eyes.
‘You’re scaring me. Where are Mum and Dad?’
Phyllie appeared in the hallway behind Hannah, wringing her hands together, her lips forced into a tight smile. ‘Come and sit down, love. We’ve some bad news, I’m afraid.’
Hannah stifled a sob as the words left their grandmother’s lips, causing the skin to prickle on Nat’s arms. She reluctantly followed Phyllie into the living room and sat on the couch next to her.
Phyllie took a deep breath, wiping her eyes on the back of her sleeve before meeting Nat’s gaze. ‘There’s been an accident, love.’
Nausea swirled with the nerves in the pit of Nat’s stomach. Hannah was now sobbing quietly, her face buried in her hands.
‘It’s your mum. She had an accident on the horse. A bad one, I’m afraid.’
‘How bad? She’ll be okay, won’t she?’
Phyllie shook her head. ‘We had to say our goodbyes. The doctors did their best, but her injuries were too extensive.’
Nat stared at her grandmother and then back at Hannah, numbness settling over her.
Hannah spoke, her face softer, her words gentle. ‘She was so upset she couldn’t speak to you. She wanted me to give you this.’ Hannah moved on to the couch and took Nat in her arms and hugged her. ‘She wanted you to know how much she loved you and said she hopes you’ll forgive her that she couldn’t hold on long enough to say goodbye.’
A single tear rolled down Nat’s cheek as she hung limply in Hannah’s embrace. Her mother. Her gorgeous, adventurous mother. Gone. It was unthinkable. She closed her eyes, memories of the morning rushing back to her. Of lying about her plans; of promising to be back in time for the small party her father had organised. Of seeing the flicker of disappointment in her mother’s eyes when she shook her head at the invitation to join her for the birthday horse ride. She couldn’t wait to try out the new saddle Hannah had insisted they give her.
She pulled out of Hannah’s arms and put her head in her hands, tears flowing down both cheeks. A sob caught in her throat. Her lies and selfish behaviour had cost her
the chance to be with her mum, to tell her she loved her; to say goodbye. It wasn’t a matter of forgiving her mother, it was whether she could ever forgive herself.
Chapter One
PRESENT DAY
A celebratory smile spread across Hannah’s face as she dropped her briefcase and bag on the kitchen counter before trotting up the stairs to the second floor. She needed to get ready for the family dinner before picking Amy up from after-school care on the way to her father’s house. Warmth infused her body as she entered the bedroom. She’d describe a normal workday at No Risk as predictable, but today had been anything but. News of an unexpected promotion had left her mind whirling. How had she missed the whispers and gossip that she’d now learned had been going on for weeks?
She stopped, took her phone from her pocket and put it on the mahogany dresser, before picking up a silver photo frame. Her mother, on the morning of her fortieth birthday, looked back at her. Only four years older than Hannah was now. It was the last photo taken of her. She was smiling at the camera, tawny-brown ringlets framing her face. Cherry lipstick, her trademark, glowing from her heart-shaped lips. She wore a white peasant shirt, with a silver necklace around her neck, which she didn’t think she’d ever seen her mother without. Hannah’s hand instinctively reached for her neck and she fingered the heart pendant; a wedding present from her father to her mother. Having inherited it, she rarely took it off.
Her mother’s eyes sparkled with delight as she smiled into the camera. As she’d grown older it had comforted Hannah to know that on the day she’d died her mother had looked so happy. Her throat thickened as she replaced the photo, remembering how their own lives had been upended on the day of the accident. It was always a strange day, celebrating her mother’s birthday, but marking the anniversary of her death at the same time.
She took off her suit jacket and hung it in the walk-in-robe, her heart leaping as her mobile phone rang. Hannah hurried back to the dresser, hoping it would be Damien; she couldn’t wait to share her news. Her breath caught as she saw that the caller was not her husband; it was him. She stared at the screen, her hand frozen around her phone. Her stomach churned, raking up the feelings of guilt she’d done her best to suppress over the last twelve years. Why was he calling now? She’d made it clear he was never to contact her again. The phone stopped ringing as it clicked over to voicemail. She held her breath, hoping he’d dialled the wrong number and there would be no message. Within seconds her hopes were crushed as the phone pinged.
Why had she ever put herself in this position? Lying to her husband, betraying his trust. The guilt she’d suffered had taken years to push into the past, and now here he was again.
With trembling hands she pressed the button to listen to her voicemail. As his voice erupted from the phone she could picture him, his expensive suits, his knowing smirk. She should have known better than to get involved with someone she knew deep down couldn’t be trusted. The irony of this thought wasn’t lost on her. She was hardly in a position to judge.
‘Hey, Hannah. A blast from your past. It’s Zane. Zane Fox, in the unlikely event you’ve forgotten who I am.’ He chuckled. ‘I highly doubt that after what we got up to. Anyway, there’s been a development and I need to talk to you. Please give me a call. It’s quite urgent.’
A development. She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to know about a development. She just wanted him gone. He had the potential to destroy her marriage and everything she held dear.
Hannah placed the phone down next to her mother’s photo. The euphoria she’d felt only moments before had been short-lived. If she ignored him, hopefully he’d take the hint and disappear.
She took a deep breath. Today was not the day for extra problems. Adding Zane Fox into the mix brought a whole other level of stress. The promotion had helped distract her for a short time, but 17 July, the anniversary of her mother’s death, was the one day of the year that no matter how hard she might try to suppress her feelings, they always exploded to the surface. Guilt rushed through her in waves as she thought back to that day eighteen years ago. Why hadn’t she listened to her father? Gone along with his idea of seeing a matinee performance of West Side Story before going out to dinner, rather than insisting they buy a new saddle for her mother and go riding? If she hadn’t been so insistent her mother wouldn’t have been on a horse that day. She did her best to suppress her guilt for most of the year but on the anniversary it rose to the surface very quickly. She’d never told anyone how she felt. She couldn’t bear having to listen to her father or Phyllie as they did their best to convince her it wasn’t her fault. Burdening them with her guilt was hardly going to be helpful for anyone. She’d certainly never told Nat.
Her thoughts shifted to her sister. She wondered, as she did most years, if their mother hadn’t died what her relationship with Nat would be like now. Before the accident they had been so close. Best friends as well as sisters. Even with the three-year age gap, Hannah loved spending time with her little sister. She’d loved watching and supporting Nat’s achievements. It had been a special relationship – until the accident. After that, instead of seeking out Hannah’s advice Nat had started to push back. Accusing Hannah of being overprotective, of smothering her and trying to control her. Of course Hannah became more protective of her family after the accident. She still couldn’t understand why Nat saw her risk assessing and cautious outlook as a negative.
Hannah sighed. She didn’t have the headspace to deal with anything more than getting through the evening. She hadn’t heard from Nat since her sister’s birthday the month before, which was probably a good thing. Her lack of gratitude over the gift she’d given her had been incredibly disappointing. Why was it that Nat couldn’t see Hannah’s only motive was to help her? That she worried about her and wanted to make her life easier? If only Nat listened occasionally. Instead she managed to create drama after drama, sending Hannah’s stress levels through the roof. However, if she wouldn’t accept help when it was offered, then there wasn’t a lot more Hannah could do. She just hoped that whatever Nat’s latest dramas were they wouldn’t spoil the evening. But if her sister’s track record was anything to go by, it was almost guaranteed she’d be dealing with the fallout from one screw-up or another.
Nat stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her golden-brown hair looked lacklustre and was void of its usual waves, while her unusually pale face highlighted the dark circles under her eyes. She pulled out her make-up bag from the vanity and rummaged through it. She was going to need a miracle to make herself even half presentable. She wished she could curl up in a ball and sleep off the rest of this day. How she hated 17 July. It was the one day she dreaded every year, but this year it was so much worse. This year it wasn’t just about her mother and getting through another family dinner, this year she had other problems to deal with. Problems that were magnified by the very fact she didn’t have her mother to turn to for support. Yes, she had her father and she had Phyllie, but it wasn’t the same; it never had been.
She sighed as she curled her lashes before applying mascara. How had she arrived back at this point? Not only would she have to listen to her brilliant sister’s achievements, but when Hannah found out Nat was once again unemployed and about to be homeless, she’d have a field day with it. It was a ridiculous situation to find herself in at her age, she knew that, but Hannah’s reaction would make it ten times worse; she could just picture the look of disgust she’d give her. Not everyone was a corporate success; and the home situation, well, that was hardly her fault either. But Hannah wouldn’t see that. She’d remind her of how often Nat had been fired, how often she’d needed to find a new place to live. That it was ‘completely avoidable if you just thought for one moment’. No doubt the life coach would be brought up again. Nat still couldn’t believe that Hannah had thought she’d actually appreciate this as a birthday present when she’d given it to her the previous month.
‘Six sessions with a life coach,’ Hannah had proudl
y announced, handing Nat a gift certificate. ‘After these six sessions your life will be turned around. You’ll have goals set, a plan to start achieving. I’m so excited for you, Nat.’
Nat had just stared at her sister. Hannah genuinely thought she was going to want this. ‘I’m happy with my life how it is.’
Hannah had laughed. ‘Nat, you’ve just turned thirty-three. You have no assets, a low income and the longest relationship you’ve ever had lasted about six months. You need help. The life coach will help you make changes to every part of your life. You won’t recognise yourself.’
With her eleven-year-old niece in the room observing the interaction, Nat chose her words carefully. ‘When will you realise that I am doing what I want to, how I want to?’ She handed the gift certificate back to Hannah. ‘I don’t need a life coach, I know exactly what my goals are.’
Hannah rolled her eyes. ‘Really? Then how come we never hear of you achieving any of them?’
Nat took a deep breath and stood. ‘You put me down at every opportunity, but I’m not listening to it on my birthday.’ She turned to her father and stepmother. ‘Thanks for lunch and the cake. I’m meeting Pip for drinks, so I need to get going.’ She didn’t bother to say farewell to Hannah, whose mouth was hanging open in disbelief, and she hadn’t spoken to her since.
One thing she knew for sure, if her mother was still alive she’d be Nat’s biggest cheerleader. She wouldn’t be suggesting life coaches or anything else as ridiculous. She’d understand why Nat got herself into these situations and she’d support her decisions and actions. She always had.
Nat swallowed, doing her best to blink back tears as she put the lid back on the mascara and slipped it into her make-up bag. Eighteen years later and she was still wracked with guilt when she allowed herself to think back to that day. For most of the year she did her best not to. She thought of her mother but didn’t allow herself to dwell on the day she died. If she did, she’d be a basket case. But on the anniversary, with dinner looming, it was impossible not to. She’d never been able to forgive herself for letting her mother down, and while she’d never actually said it, Nat was pretty sure Hannah hadn’t forgiven her either. She’d been by their mother’s side when she died and had seen first-hand how upset she was by not being able to say goodbye to Nat. If only she’d put her mother first that day and spent her birthday with her, or at least been contactable. They would have had the chance to say their goodbyes and Hannah would have no reason to resent her.
