Our Secrets and Lies

by Sinéad Moriarty

  Kelly laid her head on Jenny’s shoulder and flicked through her phone.

  ‘OMG, he is gorgeous. Go, Kelly! Now I understand why you’re sneaking out of windows to meet him.’

  ‘Will you talk to Mum about letting me see him?’ Kelly asked.

  ‘Of course I will. I’ll do my very best.’

  Jenny meant it. She was going to try to talk Lucy around. Even though she knew it wouldn’t be easy. Kelly needed some fun in her life, and some distraction from her grief about her absent father.

  26

  Lucy sat back and smiled across the table at Damien. ‘This is so lovely. Thank you.’

  ‘You are exactly what the doctor ordered,’ he said. ‘I’ve had a godawful week with the press crawling all over the case. The thought of a Friday unwind with you was all that kept me going.’

  Damien was possibly the kindest man Lucy had ever met. All through college, he had been her friend and confidant, always there when she needed a shoulder to cry on, never asking anything in return. She’d known that he liked her, wanted to be her boyfriend, but he’d never pushed it. In truth, his social skills had been so minimal then that he’d never have had the guts to act on his feelings but, still, he’d respected their friendship and she had always appreciated that. These meet-ups were the only chance she got to be just Lucy, not Mum, not daughter, not shopkeeper, not worrier, just Lucy. She had Damien to thank for that.

  Damien’s phone buzzed and he looked at the screen. ‘Damn. It’s my junior counsel. Must be about the case. I’m sorry, Lucy, will you excuse me for a few minutes while I take this?’

  Lucy waved her hand. ‘Of course. I’ve got the bottle of wine to keep me company, so don’t worry about it.’

  Damien grinned at her and stood up, walking outside while talking urgently into his mobile.

  Lucy envied him that, being important, being someone whose opinion was required, whose expertise was essential to resolve cases. That must feel wonderful, she thought, as she poured more wine into her glass. Her head was pulling her in the direction of ‘If only’ so she pushed against it. What was the point? That part of her life was shut down for good.

  Sarah, Jenny and Billy had all tried to get her to go back and finish her degree, but Lucy had said no. She’d said it was because she was too busy with the kids and the shop and looking after Billy. All of that was true, she didn’t have the time to study, but if she’d really wanted to, she could have studied at night. Deep down, she knew the real reason was that she was scared. Her confidence in her ability to study and do well in exams was gone. She’d never be top of the class or get a first. That Lucy was gone. The new Lucy was someone who hadn’t really challenged her mind in years.

  When the mums at the school gate had laughed about ‘baby brain’ and losing touch, she’d laughed with them, but really it had hurt like hell that she was no longer smart. Jenny used to tease her for being ‘genius Lucy’, but no one could say that now. Today she could barely finish a novel without falling asleep. In her heart, she believed that if she tried to finish her degree, she’d most likely fail the exams. And even if she did manage to scrape a pass, who would hire a woman in her late thirties with no experience? No, that part of her life was over for good.

  Damien returned to the table and apologized. ‘Sorry, this bloody Lippet case is proving very difficult.’ He sat down and smiled at her. ‘By the way, I took your advice and changed my opening statement to include the Churchill quote, “The scrutiny of twelve honest jurors provides defendants and plaintiffs alike a safeguard from arbitrary perversion of the law.” It went down a treat with the jury.’

  Lucy beamed. ‘Really?’

  He nodded. ‘They loved it, made them feel important, valued, and hopefully more sympathetic to me and my client, so thank you very much.’

  Lucy reached over and squeezed his hand. ‘I’m glad I could be of some little help. You know how much I love hearing you discuss your cases.’

  He lifted her hand and kissed it. ‘I know. It’s a strange form of verbal foreplay for you! Although that’s good news for me because I’m sure I fall down a bit on the other kind.’

  ‘You’re absolutely fine in that department too. A man of many talents,’ she said, winking at him.

  Damien picked up his knife and fork and began cutting his steak. ‘So, how are things with you?’

  ‘Same old, same old. Dylan is being his usual easy self and Kelly is pushing all my buttons. I found out she’s been seeing this boy, Sean, whose brother got caught selling cocaine.’

  Damien raised an eyebrow. ‘Not great. Not what you want for her. But did this boy, Sean, ever get into trouble himself?’

  ‘No,’ Lucy admitted. ‘But I still don’t want Kelly hanging around with a kid from a bad family.’

  ‘That’s understandable,’ Damien said. Lucy loved that he got it. He knew that she just wanted the best for her kids.

  ‘Damien O’Neill. Is that you?’

  Lucy and Damien looked up in surprise. A sweaty, overweight, bald man in a pinstripe suit was moving towards them across the room.

  Lucy heard Damien sigh. Then he stood to greet the man. ‘Leslie, nice to see you,’ he said stiffly.

  ‘You too,’ the man bellowed. ‘And who is this lovely lady?’

  ‘You remember Lucy Murphy from college.’

  ‘My God, there’s a blast from the past. How are you?’ Leslie asked. Then, tilting his head sideways, he added, ‘Such a pity you had to drop out like that. I always thought you were the one to watch, top of the class and all that.’

  ‘Lucy, do you remember Leslie Henshaw? He was in our class in college,’ Damien said.

  Lucy did remember him: he was one of the St Jude’s crowd she’d hated. One of the people who whispered about her behind her back and gossiped. My God, he had changed. He used to be slim with a mop of brown curly hair. ‘Oh, of course,’ she said. ‘It must be almost twenty years since I’ve seen you. How are you?’

  ‘Fantastic,’ he said loudly. ‘Made a killing on property in the boom, solid property investments and all that, and of course I’m senior counsel now. Married Aoife White, do you remember her? Smart and good-looking. Three kids, house in the South of France, et cetera. How about you, Lucy? What have you been up to? Did that bolter Tom ever come back?’

  Lucy could feel her face burning, and her throat was so dry she didn’t trust herself to speak. How could she respond? No the ‘bolter’ hadn’t come back. I’m a single mother who barely makes enough to pay the bills, never married, never bought my own house, didn’t actually achieve anything. She wanted the ground to swallow her.

  ‘Lucy has two wonderful children and helps me out from time to time,’ Damien said smoothly. ‘I’m with Fenman, Stein and McCall now, as you know, and Lucy has been assisting me with the Lippet case.’

  Leslie looked from Lucy to Damien and grinned. ‘Just helping you out in work, eh?’ He winked.

  ‘No, not just in work.’ Damien put his arm around Lucy.

  ‘Well, well, Lucy, I didn’t think Damien was your type. We all used to feel sorry for Damien. The way he followed you around in college when everyone could see you only had eyes for Tom.’

  Leslie had always been a spiteful oaf. It was like they were back in college, with the ‘cool’ kid trying to get one over on Damien and make him feel small.

  ‘I was young and stupid back then, but I’m not any more, thank goodness,’ Lucy said, her voice dripping with ice. ‘I realize now that Damien was the real catch. He was the one I should have been looking at.’

  Leslie cackled. ‘You women are all the same. When you reach a certain age still single, you’re suddenly a lot more receptive to the men you ignored in college.’

  Lucy felt Damien flinch beside her. She was furious. ‘I think you’ll find that women, no matter what age, are discerning when it comes to men. I would rather die alone than spend a night with a self-satisfied, smug, ignorant prick like you. Little bald fat men like you, with ridiculous e
gos, make women sick. So why don’t you take your senior-counsel arse the hell away and let us get back to our romantic dinner, which you so rudely interrupted?’

  Leslie’s eyes bulged. ‘How dare you insult me? Just because you slept around and made a mess of your life doesn’t give you the right to insult those of us who have made a success of ours. You’re just a pathetic, bitter college drop-out. Tom was right to run a mile. I feel sorry for you, Damien. You could do a lot better than this.’

  ‘You’re making a show of yourself, Leslie. Please fuck off,’ Damien said, with an icy smile.

  Leslie stormed back to his table of colleagues, ready to slate Damien and Lucy, no doubt.

  Lucy and Damien burst out laughing.

  ‘You were incredible,’ Damien managed to say at last. ‘That’s the absolute highlight of my week – no, my year. Christ, I’ve always wanted to say something like that to him, and the many others like him. “Self-satisfied, smug, ignorant prick”. Jesus, Lucy, that’s just priceless. And so true.’

  Lucy looked over her shoulder towards Leslie’s table, then smiled at Damien. ‘I’ll probably live to regret it,’ she said, ‘but he deserved it, the arrogant shit.’

  ‘I know you always say you wished things had been different and you’d done law,’ Damien said, ‘but you would have had to deal with a whole world of Leslies. It might not have made you as happy as you think.’

  ‘Is it really like that?’ Lucy asked.

  Damien nodded. ‘Obviously there are lots of decent people too, but there are still far too many of his sort. Little men with huge egos and a ridiculous sense of entitlement.’

  ‘That’s a shame. If I’d made it, I’ve have enjoyed defeating him and others like him in court.’

  ‘And judging by that performance, you’d have been bloody good at it.’ Damien laughed.

  Perhaps, but I never made it, Lucy thought sadly, and I never will. Lucy looked at her plate and realized she’d lost her appetite. She wanted to get out of here, away from Leslie, and be alone with Damien. She wanted to lie down, close her eyes and forget about everything.

  Damien always made her feel so good about herself. With him she didn’t feel like a washed-up mother of two, who worked in a shop and married or buried people for money. He made her feel like the old Lucy – intelligent, attractive, and as if she mattered in the world.

  She smiled at him. ‘How about we get out of here?’

  ‘Wouldn’t you like dessert?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, kicking off her high heel and rubbing his leg with her foot. ‘I really, really want dessert, something sinful.’

  He reached under the table to stroke her foot. ‘That’s a coincidence,’ he said quietly. ‘That’s exactly what I want, too.’

  Lucy felt the heat building in her body and suddenly wanted him urgently. Now. ‘Let’s go,’ she whispered.

  Damien paid the bill quickly and helped her into her coat. She linked his arm as they headed outside and walked the short distance to his penthouse apartment. In the lift to the eighth floor, Lucy nuzzled his neck and he stroked her back.

  ‘I want you,’ Lucy said, into his ear.

  He groaned. ‘Oh, God, Lucy, you’re so sexy,’ he said, his hand dropping down to cup her bum. ‘Come on, lift.’

  Once inside the apartment, they were pulling at each other’s clothes. Lucy felt a tear as he yanked down the zip on her dress, but she didn’t care. Once they were naked, they fell onto the rug on the floor of the sitting room. And, finally, Lucy had her oblivion. There was nothing but his body, his breath against her cheek, the weight of him on top of her. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to it, letting it blot out everything else in her life. Everything.

  Damien clicked the fire on and fetched a blanket, two glasses and a bottle of wine. They stayed on the floor, blanket over them, glasses filled, giggling like teenagers.

  ‘That was fantastic,’ he said, kissing her neck.

  ‘Oh, God, I needed it so badly,’ Lucy said. ‘There’s so much going on at the moment, I don’t have a second for myself. Being with you is my only escape.’

  Damien lit a cigarette. ‘I love this,’ he said. ‘Let’s never stop.’

  She smiled at him and took the cigarette from him. She never smoked except when she was with him. He was her outlet. She drank too much wine as well when they were together. It was like a release. But she also had to be careful: this wasn’t love. She knew that. It was wonderful, it got her through, and she knew he relished it too, but she wasn’t in love with him and never would be. She didn’t think he was in love with her either: he just thought he was because things were easy between them in a way he had never experienced with anyone else. She had to mind his feelings, though, and make sure he was always aware that while this was a wonderful arrangement, it would never become anything else.

  ‘We’ll keep doing it until you find the one,’ Lucy said lightly. ‘Then I’ll let you go.’

  Damien looked at the fire and said nothing. She felt a flash of guilt, but it was better to be honest.

  He looked up and smiled. ‘New conversation,’ he said. ‘How is the alma mater of our friend Leslie working out for Kelly and Dylan?’

  Lucy passed him the cigarette. ‘It’s mad, isn’t it, that they’re going to St Jude’s, of all places? I’d never have thought it possible. But they’re both doing well. Dylan is flying it, of course. He was straight in with his team, making friends, so he’s loving it. It’s such a fantastic opportunity.’

  ‘And Kelly?’ Damien asked.

  Lucy sighed. ‘She’s taking longer to settle. She keeps going on about her old school, but all I can tell her is that this is the best thing that’s ever happened to her, to us, and hope that she makes the most of it.’

  ‘It’s a big change at that age,’ Damien said. ‘Going into a place where everyone has their cliques. Has to be hard on her.’

  ‘I know,’ Lucy said. ‘But she’s nearly an adult so, really, she has to get on with it. The good thing is, she’s very bright. I’m really hoping she’ll choose law. I’m sort of quietly pushing it every chance I get. The problem is she’s into clothes designing and fashion, and that’s distracting her. But I’ve told her it’s best kept as a hobby, that there’s no money or decent career opportunities in it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that,’ Damien said gently. ‘If Kelly has the brains to match her creative interest, she could be one of those designers who go far. You can be sure Victoria Beckham makes far more than your average lawyer,’ he said, passing the cigarette back for Lucy to finish.

  Lucy shook her head. ‘I want her to use her brilliant mind, Damien. If she becomes a lawyer, she’ll have a good solid career and will never need to depend on any man. It’ll give her independence, which is what I want for her.’

  Damien nodded. ‘I understand where you’re coming from with that,’ he said.

  Lucy stubbed out the cigarette. ‘I won’t let her end up like me.’

  He looked at her. ‘You don’t really mean that, do you?’

  ‘Of course,’ Lucy said. ‘I’m nothing. A failure. I want so much more for Kelly.’

  ‘I don’t see you like that,’ he said.

  ‘That,’ Lucy said, rolling on top of him, ‘is because you are a wonderful man and I’m pretty damn good in bed.’

  He took her face in his hands. ‘Stop doing that, Lucy. Stop putting yourself down. You’re not a failure, you’re absolutely fantastic.’

  Lucy kissed him. He was sweet and kind. But Leslie’s words had stung deeply because she believed them. She was a pathetic college drop-out.

  27

  Dylan’s legs felt heavy. Damn, he shouldn’t have stayed out so late with Taylor last night. He shouldn’t have had the champagne and the cocaine. What the hell was he thinking? He’d never gone near drugs before. But Taylor was snorting a few lines and they were drunk and she was very persuasive and they’d had fun.

  He’d tried to leave at eleven, but she’d changed
into a gold bikini and dragged him into the hot tub in her garden. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes or his hands off her.

  They’d ended up drinking until two a.m. between making out. She was like a drug, fun, sexy and with a body to die for.

  He’d only gone home when the ugly step-sister had come in and screamed at them to turn the music down because she had some maths exam to study for and she was trying to sleep.

  His head pounded. He tried to shake off his tiredness and sprinted towards the ball Harry had just passed him, but he didn’t make it. The defender got there first and passed it behind Dylan to the winger.

  ‘Come on, Dylan, look lively,’ Jordan roared from the sideline.

  Dylan was sweating way more than normal. It was the bloody booze. He knew he shouldn’t have drunk so much, but he was seventeen. Wasn’t he allowed to have a blow-out now and then?

  He’d stumbled home after two and had had to throw pebbles at Kelly’s window to wake her up to let him in. She was not happy and had hissed at him that he was an idiot to be out so late before a big game. She said she’d lied when Lucy came in from her night out and told her that Dylan was already home and asleep.

  He tried to jump for a header but missed it. Normally he would have easily put it away, but he had no spring in his legs. His heart sank and Jordan flung his arms into the air and cursed.

  He saw his mother pointing urgently to his boots, but her signal wouldn’t work this time. It wasn’t nerves. Dylan wiped sweat from his brow. He was finding it difficult to concentrate. How many drinks had he had? He tried to think back. A bottle? Two? Too bloody much.

  The half-time whistle blew and he jogged slowly over to the sideline. He knew he was in for a roasting. Before he’d even picked up his water, Jordan was on his case.

  ‘What the hell is going on, Dylan? Your legs look like lead. Your head’s not in the game. Get some water into you and get it together. We need a bloody goal, lads. We can beat these guys – they’re not up to our standard. Now go out there and get one in the back of the net.’