The Secrets We Share

by Emma Hannigan

  ‘There are no skeletons,’ he said, in a slightly patronising tone.

  ‘Oh aren’t there? So why did you tell me you had no family, and why have you seamlessly acted as if they’re all nothing to do with you? For the record, Max, this isn’t normal behaviour. It’s not OK and it’s not going to continue. I can’t live with someone who takes other women in his arms and pretends his family are dead. I thought I knew you, Max. But clearly I don’t.’

  ‘Amber, please! I can explain,’ he said. ‘It’s not what you think.’

  ‘Please don’t treat me like an idiot for another second. Oh, and for the record, Nathalie sees it too, all this skirting around being a husband and father. She’s not stupid. Step up and be the father she needs. I shouldn’t have to tell you to do that, but you have zero emotional connection with our beautiful girl. She’s missing out as a result. It’s time to man up, Max.’

  Amber didn’t feel a whole lot better as she hung up. She’d imagined a lovely scene where Max broke down and took her in his arms and told her he loved her and that he was sorry he’d shut her out. She’d been ready to support him and tell him it was OK to pour his heart out now.

  She hadn’t envisaged him taking another woman in his arms and kissing her in public.

  She loved Max with every fibre of her being, but she wasn’t prepared to remain locked in a one-sided marriage any longer. It would practically kill her to leave him, but she hadn’t been raised to act like a victim. More than that, she didn’t want Nathalie to see her confidence draining away as she silently taught her daughter to remain in a situation where she wasn’t cherished and made to feel wholly loved.

  All the way home, Amber sobbed as if her heart would break wondering whether Max had ever loved her at all. Miraculously she made it back safely. She couldn’t get out of the car, though, and sat with her head against the steering wheel until a gentle rapping on the window made her look over. Her friend Evie was there, full of concern.

  She managed to climb out and Evie helped her into the house. Eventually she calmed enough to tell her friend and neighbour what she’d witnessed.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ Evie said. ‘Max always seems so smitten with you. Are you sure you didn’t get the wrong end of the stick?’

  ‘What would you think if you caught Mike holding a woman’s hand and then hugging and kissing her? That she had dust in her eye? Come on, Evie! He’s a rat and I’m going to have to deal with it.’

  Chapter 15

  Nathalie was delighted with her evening. Ava was a pretty darn cool aunt. She was looking forward to getting to know her better. There was something about her that led Nathalie to believe she’d suffered some kind of trauma. She was so reluctant to open up about her true feelings.

  She made it to the bedroom, wrangled out of her clothes and grabbed a nightshirt. Tiptoeing to the bathroom, she made a half-hearted attempt at make-up removal and brushed her teeth.

  Now that she was back, she knew what she wanted to do. She crept down to the sewing room and swiftly found the next letter. Back in her bedroom, she flicked on her bedside light and settled down to read.

  August 1937

  My darling Lukas

  Our stolen moments shared in my room will be forever imprinted on my heart.

  I met with Ava, my dearest friend from the orphanage, today. She had not laid eyes on me for several months. Instead of her usual warm smile, she greeted me with visible shock. Her gaze went directly to my belly, which made her gasp.

  Nathalie stopped in shock. She couldn’t believe what she was reading. Hannah was pregnant? She read on.

  I feel like such a fool. I had no idea that our love would create a child. At seventeen I ought to know these facts, but it seems I have learned the hard way.

  Lukas, the very thought of you makes me smile inside and out. You are my angel on earth, my soulmate and best friend. If we lived in a different world, we would be accepted and I know our lives would be filled with laughter.

  The Führer is well established here now. His popularity has gone from strength to strength with the authorities in recent times. His police occasionally put into prison those who are so unpatriotic as to ridicule him. Very few are safe from his wrath. I overheard the master, your father, speaking with some men in the drawing room. They say that recently 150 leaders of a Catholic youth organisation have been arrested and accused of treason – for having associated with Marxists.

  I’m so scared, Lukas. The government is going along with the Führer’s plans by making life harder still for Jews. Our exclusion from both public and private employment has left at least half of my community without a means of livelihood. I visited with my darling friend Frau Schulz at the orphanage and she has advised me not to speak of my Jewish status. She says that in many towns Jews cannot find lodging. Some are finding it difficult or impossible to buy food, including milk for their children, or to get medicine. Over some shops there are signs that read ‘Jews Not Admitted’.

  The Führer is invading our land and his army is growing in numbers by the day. It is no longer safe for me to be here. I could not have it on my conscience if you were arrested for fraternising with me. I know my time here is running out. I have given myself one more week in your arms. One more week in paradise before I let you go.

  Frau Schulz agrees and says she can help me. She has a sister living near the Alps. I will go there and give birth to our child. It will take her a week to organise my transportation.

  I know you will survive without me, for you were put on this earth to make a positive difference. You are one in a million and there are great divine plans for you, my love.

  My heart is breaking as I try to accept that I have merely seven more days to absorb your being into mine. After that, the love I feel will have to be enough to get me through what lies ahead.

  No matter where I go or what I do, I will always treasure the time I have spent with you. You are, and always will be, my heartbeat, my one true love.

  Hannah

  Nathalie struggled to read the last line. Her vision was blurred by her tears. Anguish ripped through her as she envisaged the poor girl and the heartbreaking decision she’d made.

  She turned on her side, still clutching the letter, and cried herself to sleep.

  The aroma of fresh bread woke her. Sitting up and rubbing her eyes, she knew she needed to get the letter back to the sewing room before Clara realised it was missing. She was about to get out of bed when she heard footsteps on the stairs. Shoving the letter under her pillow, she called out.

  ‘Hello, dear,’ Clara said. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ve baked some soda bread for your breakfast. I’ve a couple of things to do and was hoping to be back before you woke.’

  ‘You go ahead,’ Nathalie said. ‘I’ll be just fine. I might even go back to the beach for a bit. It was so lovely last night.’

  ‘Good idea. It’s sunny, so you should make the most of it. How was Ava last night?’

  ‘Good,’ Nathalie said. ‘She’s so much nicer when you get to know her.’

  Clara laughed. ‘I’ll go now. I need to have a couple of blood tests done. Those sorts of things happen when you’re my age. Nothing to worry about, but rather annoying!’

  ‘Oh, would you like me to come with you?’

  ‘Not at all, dear. I’ll be back before you know it.’

  Nathalie waited until she heard the car pulling out before running downstairs to put the letter away. Feeling scared of what she might read, she picked up the next one in the pile.

  September 1937

  Dear Lukas

  By now you will have realised I am gone. I wish I could have left you a forwarding address, but that would make my actions futile. I need to save you from certain condemnation. You are so blindly in love with me that you think we will be accepted. But I am able to see that this will never come to pass.

  I want you to know that I am safe. I went to Frau Schulz at the orphanage and she fulfilled her promise to help. S
he has sent me to a beautiful little village in the mountains. I took the train to Vienna, then caught a connection to Brixental.

  Frau Schulz’s sister Alina lives here along with her husband Frank and their three-year-old son Jacob. This little boy is the light of their lives and it’s easy to see why. His floppy brown curls, round chocolate-button eyes and peepingly shy demeanour make him most endearing.

  Alina is a talented seamstress. She has turned their simple farmhouse into a pretty and comfortable home. I am learning how to knit, sew curtains and bake delicious crunchy bread. Most precious of all, I have begun to make a patchwork quilt. Alina is a wizard at these creations and it’s my ambition to be even half as able as she.

  Each square has a special meaning. Some are from a ragged sheet I had at the orphanage. Some match the pretty curtains Alina has hung in my bedroom and some will be for you, Liebling. I did a terrible thing when I left you: I stole your blue striped shirt. The one you wore the first day we kissed. When I hold it close, I can inhale your scent and feel like you are still with me. I intend using the material to make a heart shape in the centre of my quilt. That way you will always be in my heart and thoughts and a part of you will still be in my bed.

  Not a day passes that I do not think of you. My belly expands at a rapid rate and I feel our child growing inside me. If I didn’t have this part of you with me, I know I would cease to be.

  Distance will heal your wounds. Some day our time together will seem to you like a passing dream. I have no doubt, nor do I bear you any ill for the fact, that you will forget this girl who once adored you.

  I have instructed Frau Schulz to keep my whereabouts a secret. I don’t want you to try to find me. No good would ever come of that.

  Ava, my dear and loyal friend, is the only other person who knows where I am. At least that way there will be some trace of my whereabouts – a strand of evidence that I once passed your way. A part of my heart wishes I could post this letter to you, my sweetheart, but the sensible part will never allow me to do so.

  I love you more than you will ever know. I hope your tears will dry and you can find love once more.

  Hannah

  Feeling utterly desolate, Nathalie took the key Oma had given her the night before and locked the house. She was filled with a sudden need to breathe fresh air and see normal people living normal lives. To be reassured that life was still going on around her as usual.

  The beach was already filling up with delighted children, dogs and walkers. Thinking a rush of sugar would do her good, Nathalie approached one of the pretty wooden kiosks and asked for a whipped ice cream cone.

  ‘Make that two, and I’m paying.’

  She spun around to find Conor there.

  ‘Hey!’ she said, delighted to see a familiar face. ‘I thought you only came here in the evenings.’

  ‘OK, I’ll confess,’ he said as he handed money to the seller. ‘I live over there.’ He pointed to one of the grand terraced houses that faced the seafront. ‘I have a bird’s-eye view of the promenade from my living room window. I spotted you and wanted to chat to you. Do you mind?’

  ‘If you’re gonna buy me ice cream, you can spy on me any time,’ she laughed. ‘Where’s Herbie?’

  ‘He’s out with my mum. They might trot along in a minute. I doubt they’ve gone too far. Our lives revolve around this area. A two-mile radius to be exact. My father works in town in an office and my mum helps out at a crèche further along the promenade. Herbie is actually trained to deal with children with special needs. So he often goes to the crèche to visit the kids.’

  ‘That’s so cool,’ Nathalie said.

  They walked to a bench and sat down.

  ‘I just had a call from Darragh. He’s my best mate. He emigrated to Australia a couple of weeks ago. His family fell on hard times and had no choice but to join the rest of his extended family down there. I miss him,’ he said simply.

  ‘How long were you guys friends?’ she asked, enjoying her ice cream.

  ‘Since forever,’ he said, nodding.

  ‘I lost my bestie a few weeks ago too,’ she said.

  ‘She emigrate too?’

  ‘No, she died,’ Nathalie said and promptly burst into tears. She covered her face with her hand, mortified that she’d broken down with this guy. She figured he’d make some lame excuse and run back to his house, never to be seen again. Instead he sat and waited for her to calm before shoving his ice cream in the nearest bin and holding his arms out to her.

  ‘Hug.’

  She stood up feeling slightly baffled and embraced him.

  ‘Ah, that feels good, doesn’t it?’ he said. ‘Nothing like hugging it all out.’ She stared at him. The feeling of his arms around her just now was wonderful. Her heart was thumping, not because she was sad. She laid her hand on his chest and looked up at him.

  ‘Come on.’ He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards a square made from paving stones. ‘Let’s play hopscotch. The loser gets to decide where we’re going on our date tonight.’

  ‘Huh?’ She grinned. She knew she should tell him that he was being presumptuous. How did he know she even wanted to go on a date with him! He was outrageous. But he was also quite right.

  Laughing, she followed and watched with a wide grin as he proceeded to draw a hopscotch grid with a piece of chalk from his shorts pocket.

  ‘Do you carry chalk all the time? Is this part of your master plan, that you stare out your window and spot girls and ensnare them with childhood games?’

  ‘Ah, only the pretty ones,’ he said as he poked his tongue out in concentration. ‘Now, I should say ladies first, but I’ve a feeling you’re going to be deadly at this. So I’m going first.’

  ‘Hey!’ she shouted, shoving him as he threw a stone, aiming for the first square.

  ‘Serves you right,’ she laughed as he missed. She grabbed the stone and placed it on the first number, leaping off before he could stop her. She took her time and wasn’t remotely put off by his intense stare as she negotiated the entire board seamlessly.

  ‘I’m usually right about people,’ he said with a warm smile. ‘I knew you’d be brilliant and I was right. So put me out of my misery: where are you taking me tonight?’

  ‘Where am I taking you?’ she shrieked. ‘I won! You’re doing the taking out.’

  ‘Superb,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d never ask. There’s a bar at the very end of the promenade where they do traditional Irish music nights. You know the kind? Diddly-aye type of stuff? I play the boudhrán and I’d love a groupie to come and sit beside me.’

  ‘You play the what?’ she said, looking confused.

  ‘Come along later and I’ll show you,’ he said with a cheeky wink. ‘I’ll meet you right here,’ he pointed at the ground, ‘at eight o’clock. Slán.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ She blinked, feeling more confused by the minute.

  ‘Slán,’ he said. ‘It means goodbye in Irish.’

  ‘I see,’ she said. ‘Slan to you too!’

  ‘Not slan … The a part is a long sound. As if you’re saying “lawn”. Try it again.’

  ‘Slaaaawn,’ she said.

  ‘Now you’re talking!’

  She smiled the whole way home, wondering how on earth it had come about that she had a date with a guy who wanted to converse in Gaelic and take her to a place to do something she had no clue about.

  Chapter 16

  Ava was awake. At least she thought she was. She tried to open her eyes, but her lids were so heavy. She moved her hand and realised that the surface below her was incredibly hard and scratchy. Groaning, she wondered what had happened last night.

  She’d met Nathalie. They’d talked. She was going to meet Alan. Lovely, but deadly boring. Great in bed, though.

  Images began to flash through her mind. She’d gone to the bar and he wasn’t there. She’d met that guy.

  He’d been a bit creepy at first. Sat too close to her. Smelled of stale sweat and whiskey. She’d tho
ught of leaving and going home, but knew she didn’t want to be in the apartment thinking of all the things she wished hadn’t happened to her.

  He’d bought her a drink. She strained to remember what it was, and couldn’t.

  Everything else was a total blur. She pulled her upper body up off the ground and looked around. She’d no idea where she was or what had happened to her. Looking down at her front, she saw patches of blood. She lifted her top to see where the blood was coming from. She’d clearly been kicked or punched in the ribs. She searched the area for her coat and bag. Both were missing. Crawling to the wall, she managed to prop herself up and eventually stand. The pain was excruciating. She staggered to the door. As she made her way outside, she realised she was in a warehouse in the docklands of Dublin.

  Mercifully there was plenty of early-morning traffic as commuters made their way to work.

  Flagging a taxi, she managed to tell the driver her address. He glanced in the rear-view mirror several times before asking her if she was all right.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Had a rough night, that’s all.’

  She kept her cool until they arrived at her apartment. Praying that her car was still there, she was relieved to notice it neatly parked where she always left it. She thanked her lucky stars and pressed the buzzer for the concierge.

  ‘Harold,’ she rasped. ‘It’s Ava Conway. I’ve lost my wallet. Can you come and pay this taxi and bring my spare apartment key? I’ll pay you back as soon as I get inside.’

  ‘Of course, hold tight. I’m coming this minute.’

  Ava wanted to bawl. But she knew she needed to hold it together for another few minutes. Harold appeared and paid the driver before leading her to the elevator.

  ‘What happened? Do you need me to call the police?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘It was my own fault. I was walking home alone. I went to the hospital and they’ve given me the all-clear.’