This Secret We're Keeping

by Rebecca Done

  In fact, Jess believed that deep down, living in Wanstead with Ian and two young girls while all her friends achieved their various career goals (the highlight of Debbie’s professional life to date being a brief period organizing the diary of her now husband at a stationery supply company) was the real reason her sister wanted to sell the cottage. Booting Jess and Smudge out of their sweet little seaside home and into a bedsit in King’s Lynn was probably the only way for Debbie to feel temporarily better about her own life.

  Anna shook her head. ‘Why the hell would she sell her own cottage to pay off the debts from her husband’s affair? That woman is such a doormat.’

  Jess thought it was more that Debbie had a really bad aim when it came to directing her anger at the right people. She was angry with Ian, so she screamed at the children and blamed Jess; she was angry with their mother, so she screamed at Ian and blamed Jess. In the end, it always boiled back down to Jess, which was nothing new. She’d been living with that for the past seventeen years.

  ‘You could always move in with Zak,’ Anna suggested tentatively. ‘You know he wants you to.’

  As far as Jess was concerned, cohabiting with Zak was not likely to happen – but they’d been wrangling over it for months. Unable to understand why she refused to be turned on by fashionable London postcodes, Zak was doggedly persistent in selling the idea to Jess with all the creative fervour of an estate agent presenting top-floor bedsits as penthouses. He was particularly fond of informing her that Octavia had moved in with him after only six weeks, which Jess thought to be a slightly odd choice of sales tactic given all the irreconcilable differences that had followed.

  Jess frowned and shook her head. ‘I’m still trying to build up the business. I don’t want to have to start all over again in London.’

  ‘What about buying the cottage from Debbie?’

  From down on the rug, Smudge positioned himself so that his belly was angled skyward, his legs akimbo. Obligingly, Jess rubbed him with her foot. ‘No, I’d never get a mortgage. I can’t even go into my overdraft without the bank shining a light in my eyes. God, maybe I’ll have to move in with you.’

  Anna looked uncomfortable and cleared her throat. ‘Actually, I don’t think you could, Jess. Not with Smudge.’

  Smudge lazily flicked one ear at the mention of his name and flexed his paws, but his eyes remained firmly shut.

  ‘Anna, I was joking.’

  ‘Well, no. It’s more that …’ Anna released a short, tense breath. ‘Rasleen asked me last night if I spend much time around domestic animals.’

  Jess felt a small stone begin to form in her stomach.

  ‘I mean, she’s advised me to cut them right out.’ Anna aimed wide eyes at Jess, pleading with her not to be angry.

  ‘Cut them out … like cigarettes?’ Jess said, feeling punctured as she wondered exactly when Rasleen had managed to turn yoga into a byword for bollocks.

  ‘Sorry,’ Anna said, and Jess realized that Anna was actually asking her not to bring Smudge over any more.

  From his spot on the floor, Smudge registered Jess’s unauthorized break in stroking his belly and opened one almond-shaped eye as if to try and ascertain what could possibly be stopping her.

  ‘Anna,’ she protested, ‘I feel like Rasleen’s trying to lay all the blame at your door. Or mine. Or Smudge’s. Or possibly anyone’s except her own.’

  ‘It’s not that. It’s more just … a process of elimination.’

  Thinking it a little odd that Rasleen referred to the various components of Anna’s life as if they were toxic by-products, Jess exhaled. ‘God, I really need a drink.’ But as soon as she’d said it, she felt a twinge of self-reproach, recalling the wine and champagne she’d accidentally made Anna drink at Carafe a fortnight ago.

  ‘Rasleen hasn’t had a drink for nine years,’ Anna remarked solemnly, as if this were a fact to be admired.

  ‘But she’s her,’ Jess pointed out gently. ‘And you’re you.’

  ‘But Rasleen’s got six kids,’ Anna whispered.

  Jess’s voice cracked as she tried to protest, the tears springing quickly to her eyes. She swallowed and grabbed Anna’s hand, wanting to squeeze it full of reassurance. ‘That’s nothing to do with it,’ she managed to say eventually. ‘I think you should stop seeing this woman. What a horrible thing for her to say to you.’

  ‘Jess, I’d do anything to get pregnant,’ Anna said, beginning to cry. ‘I’d literally do anything. What’s a fucking glass of wine when you don’t have a family of your own? When you’re surrounded by kids and none of them are yours? Do you know how sick I am of people telling me how great I am with kids? They tell me I’d make a fantastic mum, Jess. And I have to smile and thank them like I’m fucking flattered.’ She spat out the words as if they were poisonous.

  They stared at one another then for a couple of moments, helpless and heartbroken, before Anna began to gabble, ‘I’m sorry, Jess, I’m so sorry.’ And Jess knew exactly what she was saying sorry for, and the two girls wrapped their arms round one another as they sobbed over a horrible past and uncertain future.

  Smudge, who had always been sensitive to sadness, sat up at this point and slid his chin on to Anna’s knee, causing Anna to break down completely. He sat there quite patiently as she bent over and buried her face against his neck, allowing her tears to soak into his fur. Occasionally he would swivel his eyes towards Jess as if to seek reassurance that everything was going to be okay; but really, she didn’t know if it was.

  ‘I’ll walk you down,’ Anna said as Jess prepared to leave later that evening. ‘Simon’s still on shift. I might be able to talk him into a quick swim.’ Swathing her slender frame in a creamy cashmere cardigan, she grabbed her keys and phone, following Jess and Smudge out of the flat and down the fire-escape staircase leading to the car park. The air was warm and still, the scent of peonies lingering from the perfectly manicured flower beds.

  It was too late by the time Jess spotted the car parked up next to hers. They’d already begun to cross the gravel, and Anna clocked him straight away, sitting outside on the low wall in front of Jess’s bumper, his back to them.

  ‘Well, look at that,’ Anna declared loudly. ‘He’s turned up four days early.’

  Smudge began to strain at the lead, tail batting furiously from side to side. Clearly, like Jess, he was a big Will Greene fan.

  ‘So, thanks for having us,’ Jess mumbled, attempting rather awkwardly to pull off their goodbye while they were still only halfway across the gravel. ‘Thank you for supper.’

  Anna shot her a look and kept walking, flip-flops snapping sharply against the soles of her feet. ‘Nice try.’

  Turning his head as they approached, Will stood to greet them, dressed for the heat in scuffed jeans and a T-shirt with sleeves that capped his biceps. Jess could see him hesitating, trying to gauge Anna’s body language, before eventually opting to slip both hands into the back pockets of his jeans and brace himself against whatever onslaught was doubtless coming his way.

  ‘I saw your car,’ he explained swiftly to Jess as the two girls drew to a halt in front of him. He glanced at Anna. ‘Hello, Anna.’

  ‘Mr Landley,’ Anna clipped, her voice abrupt and unwelcoming. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

  Jess saw Will swallow, though his expression revealed nothing. She bent down and let Smudge off the lead, whereupon he instantly scampered over to Will and began making frenzied circles around his legs.

  Will glanced down at Smudge but chose to remain standing. ‘How are you?’ he enquired of Anna, his tone polite but warm.

  Anna simply nodded, after which there followed a long, excruciating pause. ‘Well, you two obviously have plans. Don’t let me hold you up.’

  ‘I was just driving past,’ Will said quickly, meeting Jess’s eye. ‘I sent you a text.’

  Her phone was buried deep inside her handbag. ‘Sorry, I –’

  ‘Well, take care, Mr Landley, won’t you?’ Anna cut in sharply, tu
rning her back on him to envelop Jess in a hug. ‘Call me,’ she whispered, before stalking off in the direction of the hotel lobby without looking back.

  ‘Sorry,’ Will said with a grimace as soon as Anna was gone. ‘I was only going to hang on for ten minutes. Should have stayed in the car.’

  ‘It’s okay. She was just surprised to see you, I think,’ Jess improvised.

  ‘I assumed you’d be alone. I thought you might be using the gym or something. Sorry.’ He squatted down then to stroke Smudge, who by now had rolled on to his back and stuck his paws in the air, eyes squeezed shut.

  ‘I’m glad you stopped,’ Jess said, looking down at him with a hesitant smile.

  He glanced up to meet her eye. ‘I’ve been out for the afternoon. Charlotte’s at home with the childminder.’ A pause. ‘Natalie’s away at the moment.’

  Jess swallowed. ‘Oh.’

  He rubbed Smudge’s belly for a couple of moments more before straightening up. ‘I was only going to say … do you fancy popping over for a nightcap? Charlotte’ll be asleep by now. I just need to relieve the childminder, and then …’

  ‘If you’re sure it’s okay?’

  ‘Yes, it’s fine.’ He paused, then added, ‘Just a catch-up.’

  She nodded. ‘Well, I’ll go and drop Smudge off first.’

  ‘I’ll text you.’ Their gazes briefly locked before Will turned and got back into his car, much to Smudge’s displeasure.

  As Will’s car made a wide sweeping circle of the gravel before heading out on to the main road, Jess remained where she was, caught once again in a bitter and reluctant wrestle with her conscience. But it was Anna’s voice in particular that was shouting far more loudly and insistently than any of the others in her mind.

  Stay away from him.

  Stay away from him.

  13

  The house was dark except for one lamp in the corner of the living room and the soft glow of Will’s sound system playing Buddy Guy blues on low. The room smelt of a fragrance designed to imitate freshly laundered linen.

  Will had thrown all the windows open but the evening heat still clung, and Jess was glad she’d taken the opportunity at home to change, swapping her shirt for a sleeveless tunic. Perched at the end of Natalie’s pristine sofa, she made a mental note not to spill anything or leave any sort of trail to say she’d been here. She was struck once again by the complete lack of evidence to indicate that Charlotte lived in this house – no Disney DVDs on the side, felt-tips on the coffee table or tiny fingerprints on the screen of the iPad. Nothing. She felt sure the neurotic addiction to order was Natalie’s, and was starting to wonder how she coped with the reality of having a small child, with all the associated tomato ketchup, poster paint and chocolate cake on birthdays this normally entailed.

  Jess allowed her gaze to rest on the little copper statue above the television. She thought back to the night she’d given it to him and permitted herself a smile at the memory.

  ‘So, Anna Baxter. There was a distinctly uncomfortable blast from my past.’ Will was facing away from her, fiddling with the volume on the sound system. Jess couldn’t help noticing that every exposed inch of his flesh was tanned, from the back of his neck right down to his feet.

  ‘I know, I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Anna’s just … she’s trying to look out for me.’

  ‘No, don’t apologize. It was stupid of me to pitch up like that. I saw your car from the road and thought …’ He shook his head and straightened up, turning towards her again. ‘Never mind. So you’re still friends?’

  She nodded. ‘We have been since school. Anna and her husband actually own that hotel.’

  He laughed, once, and ran a hand over his head. ‘Oh, fuck. Even stupider.’

  ‘You weren’t to know.’

  ‘So should I be worried?’ he asked her, though the flicker of a frown across his face told her he already was. ‘Anna used to put me on edge, a bit. I always felt like she was … I don’t know. Watching me. Can’t really explain it.’

  ‘She knows we’ve seen each other,’ Jess said quickly, ‘but I trust her. She won’t tell anyone.’

  ‘Okay.’ He nodded, seeming to accept this. ‘Right. Drinks. What would you like? I have anything and everything.’

  Jess smiled. ‘Surprise me.’

  ‘Okay.’ Smiling back, he tipped his chin down to meet her eye. ‘You’re sure, though? I have a bit of a thing for flaming sambucas.’

  ‘Positive.’

  Surveying the room while he was gone, Jess noticed a giant bouquet of blooms in creams and peaches bursting like a floral firework from a vase on the edge of the hearth. Wondering with a spark of envy if he bought flowers for Natalie every week, she quickly averted her gaze, only for it to land back on the family canvas above the mantelpiece instead.

  It did something strange to her insides, to look at that photo of a little girl and see Will written across her face, her smile, her eyes. To see his existence etched on to hers was oddly bewitching and, at the same time, completely heartbreaking.

  She’d managed to compose herself by the time Will returned a few moments later with two glasses of white wine. ‘Thought I’d play safe,’ he said, handing her one. ‘We can work up to the pyrotechnics later.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  They regarded each other briefly.

  ‘It’s okay,’ he said after a few moments, so expert still at reading her thoughts. ‘I invited you. This is all … above board. Just two friends catching up.’

  She swallowed. ‘I know.’

  He looked then as if he wanted to say something else to her, before appearing to change his mind. ‘I tell you what’s weird – being able to pour you a drink without feeling like I’m grooming you.’ He raised his glass and took a seat on the armchair near the sofa. ‘We should toast to that.’

  Jess smiled and raised her glass back. ‘Although I do seem to remember helping myself on more than one occasion. To be fair, I think you did try to stay above the letter of the law.’ She took a sip of her wine. It was crisp, dry and deliciously cold, as if it had been in the freezer.

  ‘Yeah, and failed miserably. As evidenced by my prison term.’ He took a lengthy swig from his glass, and she wondered if he wasn’t quite ready to joke about it yet after all.

  ‘You brought it with you,’ she said then after a light pause, tipping her head at the little copper statue above the television. She wondered what back story he had assigned to it for Natalie’s benefit.

  He cleared his throat. ‘Didn’t want to leave it gathering dust for six months.’

  ‘I’m so glad you kept it.’

  ‘What would I have done – thrown it away?’

  ‘Things get lost sometimes.’

  ‘Not things like that.’ Resting his head back against the armchair, he watched her for a couple of moments. ‘It’s nice to see you again, Jess. Not in my garage.’

  ‘And you. Although it wasn’t bad, you know. As garages go.’

  His smile was drily appreciative. ‘I actually can’t quite believe you’re here.’ He tilted his head then, like he needed to get a better angle on the reality of her. ‘And the bizarre thing is, I don’t even have to hide my past with you. Because – guess what? You are my past. Do you have any idea how fucking incredible that feels? Hey, it doesn’t matter if she finds out you went to jail because SHE ALREADY KNOWS. You’re the only person in my life acquainted with the full facts of my shady history.’ He made a wry toast with his glass towards her. ‘You should feel extremely privileged, Miss Hart.’

  She smiled sadly. ‘Well actually, it always felt like sort of a privilege to know you.’ She took another sip of wine and sank further down into the sofa, tucking her legs up underneath her so she was curled up like a ball in the corner of it. ‘There you go – an incredibly-corny-but-true sound bite, just for you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, like he meant it. ‘Do you mind if I replay that in the middle of the night when I’m feeling like a complete
scumbag?’

  She nodded. ‘Feel free. Although in my opinion you’re not. A scumbag.’

  ‘Ah, well, the last thing I do before I go to bed is kiss my daughter goodnight while she’s sleeping. That’s a killer for making me feel like the world’s biggest scumbag.’

  She didn’t say anything, just waited while he frowned into his wine glass like he’d spotted a foreign object floating there and was trying to work out what it was. ‘I’ve sort of got into this habit of looking at her fast asleep, and her face is all glowing from her nightlight, and I start imagining the day she finds out that her father’s a liar and a convicted sex offender.’

  ‘That’s not a very good habit,’ she said softly, trying to ignore the regret she felt bunching up inside her chest.

  ‘I know. I’m a full-on insomniac these days, so I do it every night, and I can’t stop. That’s the thing about having children that the parenting manuals don’t tell you. You love them compulsively, and it’s not always healthy.’

  ‘Is it since prison?’ she asked him quietly. ‘The not sleeping?’

  He shrugged lightly, as if to reassure her. ‘Yep. I’m used to it now though.’

  Jess looked away from him and down at Natalie’s carpet, which was unnervingly speck-free in the manner of a show home. Loving compulsively, she thought. I can relate to that.

  ‘It’s one of those bastard rock-and-hard-place situations,’ Will carried on. ‘You know – Natalie and Charlotte are in the dark, and I’m lying to them every day of my life; or I’m honest, and I never see them again.’ He puffed out his cheeks and released a tense breath. ‘But that’s the way it’s got to be. I accepted that a long time ago.’

  As they both took a contemplative sip of wine, Jess rested her head back against the sofa, memories crowding into her mind. ‘Do you remember that first ever night, at your cottage, when you insisted on driving me home even though you’d been drinking?’ She smiled faintly at him.

  He looked over at her. ‘Ah, yes. My finest hour – kiss a schoolgirl, drink-drive her home. What a gentleman.’ He shook his head. ‘Still not quite sure what you saw in me.’