The Secrets Mothers Keep

by Jacquie Underdown

  For the first time ever, she doesn’t even look for paparazzi or people who may recognise her, all she cares about is falling into those big, strong protective arms and nestling against his warmth.

  She rushes to him, tears wetting her cheeks, and he catches her in his embrace. All through the flight, she had held back her emotional pain, but deep inside she ached for Hugh to be that soft place in which she fell. She knew that once she was in his arms, she could let it all out.

  They hold each other, no words, as Lily-Rose wails against him.

  After some time, he hands her a clean handkerchief and she wipes her eyes and blows her nose.

  “Come on,” he says, rubbing her shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”

  They arrive at his rented house, which is on the waterfront at Bondi. Now that she is standing on his doorstep, the reality of where she is and who she is with becomes real.

  Trepidation consumes her for what she might find—remnants of Rachel like hand creams, underwear, makeup, rumpled sheets or the scent of her perfume.

  Hugh unlocks the front door and strides inside, but she hesitates on the doorstep. He stops and turns back to her. “You coming or are you going to stay out there all day?”

  Tears pool again; she can’t stop them. It’s as though fifty years of trapped feelings have been allowed an outlet, and they are gushing uncontrollably up to the surface. “I’m … not sure I can handle …”

  “She’s not here,” he says gently.

  Lily-Rose nods, but still can’t bring herself to go inside.

  “I broke it off with her,” he says. “Soon after we got back from Tasmania. You were right. It was wrong of me to date her, and I apologise for causing you that stress.”

  “Thank you for saying that.” She steps inside his house. The style is contemporary—shiny beige tiles, white walls, lots of cement rendering and considered lighting. “This is a lovely place.”

  “It will do until I buy something.” He leads her down the hall towards the kitchen at the very end. It’s enormous, open-planned, with a view of the ocean. “Would you like a drink or something to eat?”

  “Yes, please. Both.”

  He smiles, but it is weary. His eyes are bloodshot.

  “Did you work last night?” she asks.

  He nods. “I was on my way home when you called.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He waves away her apology. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

  Her lips tremble again because it’s indisputable that he is a good man. And he would do anything for her if she truly needed him to. Why the hell did she ruin what they had?

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says, managing another smile lined with sympathy. “I can sleep anytime.”

  She shakes her head and bellows out a sob. “I’m sorry, everything is … so fucked.”

  He gestures to one of the stools that border a table at the end of the bench. “Sit down. I’ll fix us some breakfast, then we can talk it out, okay?”

  After a while, he places a latte down in front of her along with some cold toast made from crusts and with only a scraping of butter and Vegemite. Exactly as she likes it.

  Has he always been like this? Attentive? Was she attentive to him or as Aunt June indicated when she lost her shit at Lily-Rose, did she only ever think about herself?

  “So what happened?” Hugh asks, taking a seat beside her. “Tell me everything because I could barely understand you over the phone.”

  “Did you happen to read that article about me in the women’s magazine?”

  He nods.

  “Aunt Grace made me go for a walk with her this morning…” she takes a shuddering breath. “She told me that everything in that article is true. Aunt June is my real mother. She fell pregnant very young and they hid the pregnancy from their parents by pretending that I was M … Mum’s.” She scrubs a hand over her face, unsure what to call them both now. Mum sounds so foreign on her tongue, like a lie.

  It is a lie.

  “What the bloody hell? What did June and Mary say about it?”

  “They had denied the whole thing when I approached them a couple of months ago, but they were too unemotional about it, you know? Something never felt right with me. Mum was stone cold—which is not too surprising—but then Aunt June, just this last month, screamed at me when I brought it up. Aunt June doesn’t scream. Ever. I think it’s true, Hugh. I think it’s fucking true.”

  Hugh rubs his chin. “That’s a big secret to keep all these years.”

  “Huge.” Pain rushes to the surface of her skin, pricking and picking. “It means my Dad wasn’t really my Dad. He played along too. They all lied to me. Did he really love me?” she whispers as memories of her father flash behind her eyes. He was so kind and patient. Her throat tightens with grief—grief so ancient but still so present. She always felt as though Dad loved her more than anyone else ever has. Was it all a lie?

  “Of course he did, Lil. You’ve told me yourself how wonderful he was. Plenty of people all over the world adopt children and love them with all their hearts.”

  She sniffles. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

  “But don’t you think you should get confirmation from Mary. Maybe Grace has it wrong somehow.”

  Lily-Rose tenses all over. Her stomach churns. She shakes her head and whispers, tears forming in her eyes, blurring her vision, “She’s not wrong, Hugh. I know she isn’t.”

  So many memories appear in her mind like a chain—overheard conversations, questions Lily-Rose asked as a child that were dismissed, her own suspicions that she had instantly passed off as ridiculous.

  “So June is your mother?” Hugh asks.

  Lily-Rose nods.

  “And Mary is your aunt?”

  Lily-Rose nods.

  “Have you told Pia?”

  She shakes her head and sniffles again as the tears trickle down her cheeks. “I don’t want to yet.”

  “I’d say there might be some fallout back at the house. It might be that she already knows.”

  “I don’t know how to,” she says rubbing her eyes. Sick of the tears. Sick of the tightness in her throat, the aching in her chest.

  “Would you like me to tell her?”

  Lily-Rose whispers, “Yes please.”

  “I’ll do it now.” He grabs his mobile and marches out of the room.

  She rests her elbows on the bench and lowers her head into her hands, slowly rocking it from side to side. Her mind is a whirling mass of confusion. It’s as though someone has come along and stripped her of everything, even her own understanding of who she is. And she is left throwing out her anchor trying to find ground, but there is only dark emptiness.

  She doesn’t know how she will even be able to look Mum in the eyes again. No wonder Mum was always so restrained. Every cuddle felt lacking. Every compliment had a sharp edge. All Lily-Rose craved was for Mum to love her as much as she loved her, but it never happened. And now she knows why.

  How could Aunt June have agreed to this—to hand Lily-Rose over to her sister?

  She hears snippets of the conversation Hugh is having with Pia as it comes to an end.

  “Yes, she needs some time to get her head around it all. She’ll be staying with me. Yes, Pia, I will take good care of her. Did you want to come stay too? Okay then. Well, if you need me, call. I love you too. I’m sorry to be the bearer of this type of news. Yeah, I know. Love you too. Bye.”

  He strolls back into the room and for a hazy moment, despite the strange setting and the difficult circumstances, it’s as though they aren’t separated. But then reality settles back on her shoulders and clings tightly with sharp talons of truth.

  “How is she?” she asks, voice weak.

  “Shocked, of course. That’s to be expected. But she’ll be okay.”

  “She didn’t want to come stay in Sydney for a while?”

  He shakes his head. “She’s got work tomorrow and today she’s spending the day with Luca.” He arches his brows. “I
met him when I was there. What’s going on with them?”

  Lily-Rose shakes her head. “Nothing that I know of. He’s the only friend she’s made.”

  “And what about you? Have you made any friends?”

  She sighs. “No. I’ve barely been out except to shop for the bed and breakfast and the baby.”

  A small smile grows at the corners of Hugh’s mouth. “Now that’s good news. All this other stuff will not get in the way of that happiness.”

  “I won’t let it.”

  He sits back onto the stool beside her. “Lil, where do you move on from here?”

  She shrugs. “I really don’t know. At this stage, I barely even know how to feel about this other than hurt and betrayed.”

  He rubs her shoulder and meets her gaze unfalteringly. “I’m here for you, okay? Despite everything else, I’m always here for you.”

  Tears prick her eyes. “Thank you,” she says with a choked voice. Then, a mere whisper, “I miss you so much.”

  A deep breath fills his chest, then he deflates as he sighs. “I miss you too.”

  “I’m so sorry to have betrayed you like I did.”

  He squeezes the bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes for a brief moment. “Let’s not worry about that now.”

  “But I want to. We’ve never really sat down and talked about it.”

  His fist shuttles towards the benchtop, but he catches it short. From between gritted teeth, he says, “Because it fucking hurts too much.” His eyes gloss with tears and his chin trembles.

  Her heart breaks completely in two. “I wish I could take it all back. Every single day of my life, I regret how I hurt you. You didn’t deserve it. I don’t know what was wrong with me—it’s like I broke. I was looking for anything to put me back together.”

  He stands quickly, the chair noisy as it scrapes against the polished cement floor. “Please, I can’t do this now.”

  “Then when?”

  Both hands clasp together behind his head, elbows out wide as he looks up at the ceiling. “I don’t know.”

  When he meets her eyes again, she whispers, “You were the only stable person in my life. Right from the very beginning. And I went and threw that away. I fucked up so bad.”

  “You did. You broke us.”

  “For good?” she questions, the slightest glimmer of hope in those anguished words.

  He doesn’t answer.

  She glances away from him, unable to confront the pained glaze to his eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what else I can say or do.”

  Her phone rings loudly from where it sits on the bench top. She flinches when she sees Aunt June’s name flashing on the screen.

  “You going to answer that?” Hugh asks, taking a seat again.

  Lily-Rose shakes her head. “I can’t. Not yet.” A sharp ball of glass forms in her throat and she swallows it down. The phone soon stops ringing. “No matter which way I look at it, I can’t see my mother as anyone other than my mother,” she says to Hugh.

  “I’m sure they will understand that. Mary’s an intelligent woman—she would have given this thought. Her biggest priority will be ensuring things move on from this as normally as they can.”

  “I’m not sure it can ever go back to how it was between us now.”

  Hugh shrugs. “Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe this is what you all needed to crack open your stubborn heads and allow each other in.”

  A small smile plays at the corners of her mouth. Hugh has always described her family in the crudest way, yet he is mostly right.

  But somewhere in the back of her mind, she hopes Hugh’s comments may apply to their own relationship too. They can never go back to how it used to be between them, but perhaps there is an opportunity for something different and just as rewarding.

  But she doesn’t press him. He’s still not ready to risk his heart again, which is understandable. But that’s the difference between Hugh and her at this moment; she has nothing left to lose, so she’s willing to risk it all.

  Chapter 40

  Pia

  “You’re as white as a ghost,” Luca says as he opens the door to find Pia standing there. The smile falls from his face. “Come in.”

  He steps to the side to allow her in. His home is familiar to her now. A meticulously restored period home with polished parquetry floors and high ceilings with ornamental plasterwork. His home is quaint but elegant—filled with period furniture and artwork.

  “Come through to the back patio,” he says with a supportive hand to her lower back. “Would you like a drink?”

  “A glass of water please.” The opportunities they have to be alone like this are so rare, she hates that she is ruining the mood, but fear and sympathy are rocketing through her and she can’t stop it. Her poor mother. How will she be coping with these revelations? She wouldn’t be.

  Pia heads out the back and takes a seat on the comfy outdoor setting that looks over the backyard—lush green grass bordered by pruned colourful gardens of flowers. The fresh scent of grass and the sweet delicate perfume of flowers sits in the air.

  If she has learnt anything about Luca, it’s that he’s an incredibly hard worker and fastidious in everything he does.

  He won’t admit to it, but she knows he doesn’t like downtime. When he has too much time to think, he gets antsy. She’s seen it when they’ve spent the afternoon lazing around watching movies or slow walks through the park.

  After opening up about the loss of his son, she knows that that time of his life is one he doesn’t like to dwell too much upon.

  Luca joins her on the outdoor setting. He hands her a glass of cold sparkling water with a squeeze of fresh lemon. “Thank you,” she says, trembling slightly as she takes the drink from him. Perhaps she’s still in shock.

  He strokes the hair from her face and frowns as he shuffles closer to her. “Is everything okay?”

  She shakes her head and hates that her eyes are glossing with emotion. “Remember that article I told you about before Christmas written about Mum?”

  “The one about June being her biological mother?”

  She shudders. “Yes. The article is true.” Her words are soft as sadness impinges. Not so much for how she feels about all this herself but for how Mum must be coping. What does this mean for all of them?

  Luca’s eyes widen a fraction then fall back to place. He trails a hand over his lips, taking the time to let that sink in.

  “Mum’s gone to Sydney. Thank god Dad is taking care of her.” The tears break through, snaking down her cheeks and clogging her throat. “I don’t know how she’ll take this.”

  “You haven’t spoken to her?”

  She shakes her head. “Dad rang me on my way over here. He said she’s upset but otherwise okay.” She drops her face into her hands and groans. “Can you imagine learning that who you thought was your mother is actually your aunt?”

  “It must be quite a shock,” he says.

  Pia sits up taller and looks at him. “My Nan isn’t my nan. It’s … crazy. I always thought my family was nuts, but this… Why would they have done this? Because Aunt June was so young?”

  He shrugs. “Times were different back then. You know the stigma to this day when teenagers fall pregnant. The history books are riddled with deceptions like this. People did what they had to do.”

  She sighs, chest deflating. “How could they have kept this a secret all this time?”

  “They must have had a very good reason.”

  “You think we’re all a mad bunch, don’t you? In between Mum having a mid-life crisis, and Dad dating Mum’s best friend, and Mum screaming at Rachel like a banshee …”

  He chuckles. “Pia, all families have secrets like this. Most of the time you never hear about it.”

  She narrows her eyes, tilts her head to the side. “Oh yeah, what secrets does your family have?”

  He chuckles again. “If I were to tell you, then it would no longer be secret.”

  She falls bac
k against the chair with a huff. “How can you always be so level-headed?”

  He shrugs. “I think I’ve learnt that we can’t make judgements about decisions made at different times and under conditions we don’t understand. Like when someone fills a perfectly working heritage fireplace with bricks and plasters over it.”

  She grins wider, thankful for his attempt to brighten the mood.

  “Or when someone covers exquisite Tasmanian oak floors with ugly green shagpile carpet.”

  She giggles.

  He leans over and kisses her cheek. Face still close to hers, he says with a gentle voice, “Your mother will cope with this. No matter the outcome. And so will you.”

  She closes her eyes, breathing in his comfort.

  “I promise you,” he says.

  She opens her eyes to his handsome face. “Thank you.”

  Wanting the distraction that she knows Luca can bring, she lifts to her feet and stands before him. Gaze never leaving his, she positions her legs astride his knees.

  She smooths her tongue over her bottom lip, drawing his attention to her mouth while she lowers down, knees either side of his thighs, and sits on his lap.

  He’s showered recently because the scent of soap on his skin and powdery deodorant fills her senses. His brown eyes regard her as she takes in this delicious looking man before her.

  “I’m so glad I met you, Luca.” And as soon as the words are out of her mouth that familiar sensation of guilt squeezes her heart. She needs to tell him about this baby before what’s so strong between them grows even more.

  Up until now, she has kept telling herself that before things go too far, she’ll tell him. And if it’s over between them, then it’s over. She will move on with her life and concentrate on her own future.

  But time has slipped by, and the more she has hesitated, the harder it is to tell him.

  This is not some minor admission but heavy and loaded.

  The fact that she is pregnant is something she should have mentioned before she ever kissed him, but she never imagined her feelings would evolve so fast or that she would feel real emotions for him.