My Sister’s Secret

by Tracy Buchanan

  Eventually, she had to pull away from Dan, scared she’d dissolve all together. They were both out of breath, eyes searching each other’s face, hands entwined.

  ‘When are you leaving for Southampton?’ he asked her.

  ‘Tomorrow morning.’

  ‘I’m coming with you.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, knowing it was the only right answer.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Charity

  Busby-on-Sea, UK

  May 1988

  Charity lay in bed that night staring up at the ceiling, unable to stop herself from smiling. She thought of Dan’s lips soft against hers, his green eyes heavy with emotion, and her cheeks grew hot. She turned on her side, scrunched her pillow to her belly. It just felt so right! She’d not wanted to leave his arms after that kiss. She’d felt so safe and protected from everything. But she had to get back to the café so they’d reluctantly parted, Dan telling her he’d be at the house the next morning at eight. He somehow understood she needed the night with her sister, their last together before Charity left.

  But as she ate dinner silently with Hope that night, she wished she’d just gone to Dan’s and continued what that kiss had started. There was too much sadness here, too many memories. She wanted to escape. Whenever Hope caught her eye, all she could think about was Faith and the child she’d been holding.

  ‘Are you nervous?’ Hope asked her as she took her plate.

  ‘No, not really.’

  ‘You seem nervous. Or preoccupied. Something. I can’t put my finger on it.’

  Her sister knew her so well.

  ‘Dan and I kissed,’ Charity admitted.

  Hope shoved the plates in the sink and took her seat again, leaning forward to look Charity in the eye. ‘When?’

  ‘Earlier today, when I went for that walk.’

  ‘When you were upset?’

  Charity nodded. ‘He comforted me. I feel—’ She paused. ‘I feel safe when I’m with him. Hopeful.’

  ‘That’s because all you’re used to is Niall, who’s anything but safe and hopeful.’

  Charity didn’t say anything.

  ‘I’m pleased,’ Hope said, a small smile on her face. ‘I like Dan. Mainly because he’s not Niall Lane. But also because he seems like a good person.’

  ‘He’s moving to the States.’

  Hope’s face fell. ‘Oh, that’s a shame.’

  ‘He’s giving me a lift to Southampton though.’

  Hope raised an eyebrow. ‘He is keen.’

  ‘I guess. It feels a bit crazy.’

  ‘The good kind of crazy?’

  Charity nodded. ‘The good kind. I’m not sure I could cope with any more of the bad kind of crazy.’

  ‘Me neither. In fact, I have some news myself of the good kind of crazy.’

  Charity smiled. ‘You do?’

  ‘I sent those poems I wrote in Austria off to a small publishing house and guess who called me today?’

  ‘An editor?’

  Hope nodded, the excitement in her eyes making Charity yelp with happiness. She jumped up and ran around the table, hugging her sister from behind. ‘That’s amazing, Hope!’

  ‘He thinks they would make a wonderful book of poetry,’ Hope said, peering up at Charity. ‘I just need a few more poems to send to him then he wants us to meet up in Oxford. So I’ve done something spontaneous. I’ve booked a holiday to Kazakhstan to see the forest Faith loved the most.’

  Charity’s mouth dropped open. ‘Wow, when?’

  ‘July. Remember, Faith told us the forest was flooded after an earthquake in 1911 which caused a landslide? One of the survivors is turning a hundred and there’s going to be a special vigil for him by the lake. The editor who’s interested in my work thinks it will be really inspiring to go.’

  ‘Sounds it. You’re going alone?’

  ‘Didn’t you go to India alone? I’ll have diving buddies.’

  ‘That’s brilliant, Hope, bloody brilliant.’

  ‘I know. I’m so excited.’ Hope grabbed Charity’s hands and squeezed them, her grey eyes filling with tears. ‘I know it’s not far but I’ll miss you. We are going to sell the café, you know.’

  Charity felt tears spring to her own eyes. She loved her sister so much. ‘We will. And anyway, it’s just a six-month contract. I’ll come back for your birthday and then there’s that festival we said we’d go to together.’

  Hope nodded resolutely. ‘We will.’

  The next morning, just as she had the first time she’d left home, Charity stood in the middle of the living room with her large red suitcase, looking around and breathing in the memories: a teenage Hope leaning down to pull a book out from one of the piles around the room, red hair trailing the floor. Faith curled up on the patchwork red and black armchair as she flicked through photos of underwater plants, a look of concentration on her pretty face. And then their parents, watching some documentary or another, her father’s legs stretched out on his old leg-rest, her mother’s curled under her, like Faith’s. And there, a teenage Charity sitting on the window seat, seeing if she could see any sign of Niall in the distance.

  Charity’s stomach sank. Niall. He’d be devastated if he found out about her and Dan. But he’d made his bed, hadn’t he?

  An engine rumbled outside. She looked up to see one of Dan’s plush cars pull up outside, a sleek green Jaguar. She smiled.

  ‘Not a bad chariot,’ Hope said from the doorway, a cup of herbal tea in her hands. She put it down and walked to the window, the two sisters watched as Dan stepped out of the car. He looked unbearably handsome, his blond hair shining under the sunshine. He adjusted the collar of his blue polo shirt then squinted up at the sun.

  ‘He’s rather gorgeous, isn’t he?’ Hope said.

  Charity smiled. ‘Not bad.’

  ‘Don’t get chocolate on those expensive car seats.’

  ‘I’ll try not to.’

  ‘And remember to say loo, not toilet. Posh people don’t like the word toilet.’

  ‘His father ran tourist boats, Hope. He isn’t the Prince of Wales.’

  Hope smiled. ‘Shame. I’ve always wanted to meet Princess Di. Do you think we look a bit weird just standing here watching him?’

  ‘Completely.’

  Dan looked up and Charity waved at him then turned to her sister. ‘Obviously, this isn’t goodbye.’

  ‘Obviously. Just a brief interlude in the drama of Hope and Charity.’

  ‘Very brief. There’s the festival…’

  ‘…and my birthday.’

  Charity’s face collapsed and she turned away. It felt like she was leaving for good, which ought to make her happy but she knew she’d miss her sister.

  ‘Oh come on,’ Hope said, pulling Charity into her arms, her own voice filled with tears. ‘It’s just Southampton, not Timbuktu. And you’ll only be gone six months.’

  ‘I know, but I’ll miss you.’

  ‘I’ll miss you too,’ Hope said, her voice sounding very small for a moment.

  Charity put her hands either side of her sister’s thin face. ‘Remember to be nice to the customers.’

  ‘I’m always nice to the customers!’

  ‘And stop feeding the seagulls leftovers. You think I don’t notice but I do.’

  Hope sighed. ‘If I must.’ She picked up Charity’s box and opened the door, Charity following with her suitcase. Dan was standing on the pathway, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Charity held her breath for a moment as he looked into her eyes, her head swimming slightly.

  ‘Drive carefully,’ Hope said to him. ‘Precious cargo on board.’

  ‘I will,’ Dan said, his eyes still on Charity.

  ‘And don’t let her feed any seagulls,’ Hope added.

  Charity laughed. ‘Oh, Hope, I really will miss you.’ They gave each other a hug and, as they pulled away, Charity noticed tears fill Hope eyes. ‘I love you,’ she said quickly. She didn’t often say that to her sister but she’d so wished she�
�d said it to Faith before they lost her.

  Hope smiled. ‘You too, Charity.’

  Dan took Charity’s suitcase and Charity gave Hope’s hand a quick squeeze then she followed Dan down the path, away from the home that she’d grown up in, and which held such wonderful and terrible memories.

  During the journey they talked as though the kiss hadn’t happened. But the tension in the car was there, slight glances, the way Dan watched her lips when she talked, her desperate desire to slide her hand over his each time he changed gear.

  Halfway there, Dan pulled over on to the hard shoulder and pulled her into his arms, kissing her as cars whizzed by, making the car rock gently each time. Charity reached up, smoothing her fingertips through his hair, moving closer to him, her chest now against his, feeling the thump of his heart.

  After a while they both looked up at each other.

  ‘Sorry, I had to do that before I crashed the car,’ he said.

  She searched his face, saw the fine lines around his green eyes, those long black lashes, the straight line of his tanned nose. She couldn’t help herself as she reached up, her fingers tracing a line down his cheek.

  He put his hand over hers and leant down, pressing his lips softly against hers again. She sighed and folded into him.

  ‘I suppose we better carry on driving if we want to get there by lunch,’ Dan said reluctantly.

  ‘I suppose.’

  He started the car up again and it wasn’t long before they arrived in Southampton. Her flat was housed in a tall brown brick house with large white sash windows. She hadn’t actually visited it yet, just agreed to rent it after seeing photos that were sent to her in the post. But it was perfect, just a few minutes’ walk from the university with a large sitting room and bedroom, and lovely period features such as ornate cladding on the ceilings and marble fireplace.

  When they got into the flat, she looked out of the window imagining Faith jogging along the streets below to get to a lecture,

  ‘Gorgeous view,’ she said.

  Dan didn’t respond so she turned around. He was watching her intently, his chest rising and falling, and, before she knew it, they were walking towards each other. Dan wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips gently against hers. She felt that softening she’d felt the day before during their first kiss, right in the very core of her, making her relax against him.

  As their kisses grew deeper, Dan carefully pulled her jumper over her head, both of them laughing as Charity’s dark hair grew static, standing on end. As she unbuttoned his shirt and pressed her hands against his warm tanned chest, they smiled at each other. With his eyes still on hers, Dan undid each button of her jeans and pulled them off for her, kissing her bare feet as he did so. She unbuttoned his jeans, gliding her fingers over the gold hair on his calves, feeling the muscles and soft skin.

  They touched each other gently, carefully, Dan’s face intense as his fingers, lips and tongue explored every part of her, savouring her until she couldn’t bear it any more. She wrapped her legs around him, pressing herself against him, making him enter her with a gasp, and she saw a brief moment of vulnerability in his eyes.

  It was so different from being with Niall. He’d been fast, passionate, lifting her into positions, nipping at her ear, moaning and rocking. Being with Dan was like soft ripples building in intensity instead of violent storms.

  Charity woke later not even aware she’d fallen asleep. Dan was in the small kitchen in just his pale blue boxer shorts, blond hair in his eyes as he beat an egg in a bowl.

  ‘I didn’t know I’d brought eggs with me,’ Charity said, wrapping the sheet around herself and padding into the kitchen.

  He glanced up, smiling. ‘I did.’

  ‘You’re so organised.’

  He put the whisk down and reached for her hand, pulling her into his arms. ‘You smell divine,’ he murmured into her ear. ‘Just you, no perfume. Natural. I like it.’

  ‘I do wear deodorant.’

  He laughed. ‘I know.’ His face grew serious as he gently moved her sheet away. ‘Let me look at you.’ She shook her head shyly, burying her face into his neck. ‘After what we’ve just done together, I can’t believe you’re so shy,’ he said.

  ‘I can’t help it.’

  He slipped a hand beneath the sheet, smoothing it over her curves. ‘I can’t stop touching you,’ he said. ‘I feel like Christopher Columbus discovering new lands.’

  ‘Now I know how you win over models, it’s those cheesy lines.’

  ‘It’s true though. I’m used to straight lines, you’re all curves.’

  Charity frowned. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good thing.’

  ‘It’s wonderful.’ He looked into her eyes. ‘You’re wonderful.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re here with me.’

  He shook his head, incredulous. ‘Me neither. It’s a bit crazy, isn’t it?’

  ‘A good kind of crazy,’ Charity said, thinking of the conversation she’d had with Hope. ‘When do you need to go to the States?’

  ‘Need? You forget I’m my own boss. I choose when to go. You start your job in a week, right?’ Charity nodded. ‘Okay, let’s enjoy this week together. How’s that sound?’

  Charity smiled. ‘Perfect.’

  When Charity woke each morning over the next week to find Dan there, she was amazed. She watched him sleep, cheeks flushed, blond hair hanging over his closed eyes, and her heart throbbed. She’d wondered how he would cope in her little flat considering he was used to space and luxury. But he seemed at home, in fact, they hardly left the flat, both of them discovering they were too desperate to get back into the flat’s small bed to waste time going out for dinner. When Charity did leave to do some shopping, she loved returning to find Dan’s long body draped across the blue sofa, a book in his hand, designer glasses perched on his nose. Or a phone pressed between his ear and shoulder as he whisked a stir fry up in the kitchen, one hand stirring the food, the other flicking through paperwork, somehow managing to continue running his company despite being in the middle of Southampton in a tiny flat.

  When they made love, she loved how Dan’s gentle way of touching could make her feel so frantic with feeling. It didn’t surprise her that he seemed to know just how to make her react: a touch here, a kiss there and she was arching her back, moaning, melting into him and wanting more. She imagined he was like that in every part of his life, careful, measured, aiming for the best possible result. Perhaps it ought to feel cold, but it didn’t. The way he looked at her, like she was the most remarkable thing he’d ever seen, filled her with warmth.

  At night he woke instantly when she had nightmares about Faith. And the images would quickly disappear as Dan whispered in her ear to calm her. Niall had been a deep sleeper, barely noticing when she cried out.

  The night before her first day at work, he made her dinner and the small flat was abuzz with tension. She was nervous, not just because it was a new job but also because she’d be based on the very campus her sister had been based on. She also couldn’t bear the idea of Dan leaving. He seemed to feel the same, brow creased as he ate.

  After a while, he sighed, putting his fork down. ‘It’s no good. I can’t leave you.’

  Charity let out a breath of relief. ‘Thank God.’

  He laughed. ‘I know, right? It’s just too awful to think about.’

  ‘But what about the States?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking, why go to the States when my office is already based in the centre of the UK’s cruise world?’

  ‘You’re actually going to build a cruise ship?’

  Dan’s eyes sparked with excitement. ‘Why not? I’ve always dreamt of doing it. I’ve seen an apartment in town I can rent, too.’

  Charity bit her lip. ‘I’m only really planning to stay for six months. Hope and I had plans…’

  ‘I know. Look, I’m not just doing this for you, Charity.’ He sighed. ‘Truth is, I was running away by choosing the States. But being wi
th you makes me want to stay in the UK, whatever transpires between us.’

  Charity explored his face. ‘What is going to transpire between us?’

  He leant over, stroking her cheek. ‘I don’t know. But it seems pretty promising so far, doesn’t it?’

  She smiled. ‘It does.’

  The next morning, she woke to find Dan had made her breakfast in bed. As she dressed, butterflies in her stomach at the prospect of starting her new job, Dan watched her with a small smile on his face.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s just great watching you get ready for work. It’s great being with someone who cares as much for their job as I do.’

  ‘Is this alright?’ she asked, looking down at her black skirt and patterned blouse.

  ‘Gorgeous.’

  ‘I wasn’t sure if—’

  ‘Gorgeous,’ Dan repeated, coming up behind her and putting his arms around her as he kissed her neck. She watched them in the mirror. They were a contrast, his blond hair against her dark hair, his tanned skin against her pale skin. While she was all soft curves, he was long and wiry.

  ‘We fit perfectly, don’t we?’ he said as he examined them.

  She smiled. ‘Yes.’

  He reached into his pocket, pulling out a long rectangular box. ‘I hope this fits perfectly too.’

  ‘What’s this?’ she asked, taking it.

  ‘Just a good-luck present.’

  She opened it, not believing her eyes when she saw a delicate gold watch with a pearlescent clock face inside. ‘Oh, Dan, you shouldn’t have.’

  ‘Try it on.’

  She carefully took it out of the box, noticing an engraving on the back simply saying ‘Courage’. Then written on a note inside:

  ‘Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.’ Winston Churchill.