Secrets Between Us

by Valerie Keogh

  Her eyes flicked over the choices, but she always ordered the same, a mushroom and artichoke pizza for her and pepperoni and olives for Will. She’d get Tia a chicken pizza. Years of living in an institution had taught her to eat anything she was given and, as she’d shown no particular preference or dislike of anything, it was easier just to order for her. It was nearly seven. Will was late, but she was certain he’d be home soon. She might as well place the order now.

  ‘That’s fine,’ she said as she finished the call and hung up. She took the exact change plus a tip from a bowl in the same drawer and went to leave it handy on the hall table. Her post was there, she’d not bothered looking at it when she came in and picked it up now with little real interest.

  Her breath caught when she saw, tucked among the letters, a scribbled note from Will. He’d been home, changed and gone out again before she got home.

  Going out with the boys. I’ll be late back. Don’t wait up.

  No endearments, no apologies for leaving her alone on a Friday night. Nothing. She crumpled the piece of paper and threw it across the wooden floor. Then she picked it up, smoothed out the creases and read it again. The words hadn’t changed, nor had the way they made her feel.

  Her throat clogged with tears she refused to cry as she headed back into the kitchen. Unfortunately, Tia had chosen that moment to come over for a drink and she stood in front of Ellie with the slightest hint of a smile on her face.

  ‘What are you smiling about?’ Ellie asked, moving to the fridge to take out a bottle of wine. Pouring a glassful, she took a sip and looked at Tia over the rim. Did her smile mean she was happy? Will seemed to think so, but maybe her smiles were just a meaningless imitation of the smiles she saw around her, or on the TV.

  ‘I’ve ordered pizza,’ she said.

  Tia turned to her, the smile still in place. ‘Good, I like pizza. When is Will going to be home?’

  ‘Soon,’ Ellie said, hoping she was right. She sipped her wine as she looked at her sister. The smile never went to her eyes, she thought. And as she looked at her, she realised Tia was staring back in a calculating, assessing way that made her shiver. She looked away.

  The doorbell interrupted her thoughts. ‘The money is on the table,’ she said as Tia immediately rushed off to answer the door.

  They took their pizzas, still in their boxes, through to the sitting room and Ellie switched on the television. She flicked through channels before landing on a movie channel where Gone with the Wind had just started. It fit the bill, and for a few hours she munched pizza, drank wine and lost herself in the problems of the South and of women who struck her as being just a little bit more pathetic than she was.

  Will’s pepperoni pizza sat on the table between them. Tia had offered to put it in the oven to keep warm for him but sat back when Ellie just shook her head. They ate in silence, the film playing out on the screen, the occasional rustle as one or the other of them fumbled for the next slice of pizza or when Ellie reached for the wine bottle she’d left within reach.

  Will would be drunk when he arrived home. A boys’ night out had been a regular occurrence when they had first met, years before, but as his friends had settled down, married and had kids, they were less and less frequent and, now, almost non-existent.

  ‘Pathetic,’ she said drawing a wary glance from Tia who reached for her last slice of pizza without a word. ‘Oh,’ Ellie said, quickly, ‘don’t worry, I didn’t mean you.’

  When the movie ended, Tia took the pizza boxes out and didn’t return. Ellie flicked through the channels for something to watch, one eye on the mantel clock, the other on the screen. Midnight came and went. Ellie stood, swaying slightly before getting her balance.

  Heading to bed, she left the empty wine bottle and the glass where they were.

  18

  Will struggled to get his wallet out to pay the taxi driver. When he did finally manage he found it hard to focus on the contents.

  ‘How about I do that?’ the driver said, taking the wallet from his hands, opening it and extracting two ten-pound notes. He waved them in front of Will’s face. ‘Two tens, okay? The fare is sixteen. How much of a tip do you want to give?’

  ‘Keep the change,’ Will said, moving to walk away before being called back by the driver who was shaking his head and rolling his eyes as he waved Will’s wallet.

  ‘Oops,’ Will said, taking it and shoving it into his jacket pocket. He gave a wave and headed up the short path and steps to his front door, pulling his keys out as he moved. Alcohol numbed his brain and unfocused his eyes. He jabbed at the keyhole, missing it several times. He looked at the doorbell, tempted to press it, but he hadn’t forgiven her yet. A final determined effort to focus and he got the key in, giving a muttered cheer as he turned it in the lock. He pushed the front door open as quietly as he could, taking a step forward into the darkness. One step more, and he tripped over the doormat he had forgotten was there, stumbled and landed face-first on the floor, the clatter echoing in the stillness of the dark hall.

  He lay where he was for several minutes, wondering sleepily if the best course of action was inaction. He had almost drifted off to sleep when he heard the soft shuffle of feet on the stairs and, looking up, he saw Ellie.

  She looked like a ghost, a light from behind backlighting her, making the fine nightdress she was wearing almost totally transparent. His heavy eyes stared at her body curving in all the right places, a dark shadow between her legs and, despite the alcohol, lust shot through him, making him instantly so hard he had to adjust his position on the floor.

  ‘Come here,’ he said, lifting a hand to reach for her.

  He expected hands on hips and a shake of her head, but she took the last few steps towards him tantalisingly slowly.

  God, he thought, I love her so much. As soon as she was near enough, he reached for her ankle and slid his hand upward. Then it was both hands, reaching, seeking, finding. There was a time and a place for the slow foreplay that they both loved, but this wasn’t one of them. He pulled her down onto the floor beside him, pushing the nightdress up and out of the way and, with a speed he didn’t think he’d manage, he unzipped his trousers to release his erection.

  ‘Oh God, my darling,’ he said, ‘I can’t wait.’ Lifting her hips, he slipped inside her with a groan of pleasure and then with a few swift movements and a louder grunt, he came, almost immediately, his orgasm short but intense. Seconds later, he felt his limp penis slip out of her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered, his head swirling as he levered himself onto his elbows to look down at her. ‘I’ll make it up to you.’

  She whispered something he didn’t catch as he rolled off her, pulled her to him, and fell into a deep, boozy, post-orgasmic sleep.

  When he woke, it was still dark. Had it been a dream? He reached a hand out to sit up, pulling it back with a sound of disgust. Not a dream. Wiping his hand on his shirt, he stood up shakily and went into the kitchen. He switched on the light, pulled several pieces from the kitchen roll and returned to the hallway to wipe up the sticky mess.

  The wall clock told him the bad news. It was almost five. His head banged as if his brain was trying to escape. Heading back to the kitchen to dispose of the paper towels, he reached into the kitchen cupboard, pulled out a packet of paracetamol and popped two, swallowing them with a pint of tepid water from the tap. There was no point in disturbing Ellie at this time of the morning. He pushed open the door into the sitting room, kicked off his shoes and lay on the sofa. Within minutes, despite the thumping in his head, he was asleep.

  By the time he woke, two hours later, the medication had done its business. He sat up slowly, nonetheless. The distinct sound of the electric shower overhead told him that Ellie was already awake. He smiled and stretched. It was going to be all right.

  Swinging his feet to the floor, he made his way up to the spare bedroom – a room Ellie laughingly referred to as his dressing room – stripped and dropped all his clothes into the laundry basket.

/>   Thirty minutes later, he was showered, shaved and dressed and feeling much better until he looked in the mirror, where his reflection told him plainly that he’d had too much to drink last night. His skin was pasty, the whites of his eyes red.

  ‘Never again,’ he muttered, turning away and reaching for the door, which he opened at the exact moment Ellie opened hers. For a long moment, neither said a word.

  Then Ellie smiled, her eyes flicking up and down his body. ‘You look pretty okay after your late night. You had a good time?’

  He gave her a crooked smile. The storm had passed. ‘The best bit was when I got home,’ he said, moving closer to kiss her gently on her lips. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

  ‘Me too,’ Ellie said. ‘But now,’ she added, checking her watch, ‘I have to run. I’ve got a presentation first thing that I need to get in and prepare for.’

  He reached out a hand to stop her. ‘How about we go out for dinner tonight?’ he said, and then saw the hesitation in her eyes. She was so easy to read. ‘Just us,’ he reassured her. ‘Me and you. A date, if you like.’

  Ellie smiled and put her hand over his. ‘A date. Perfect.’

  He stood listening for the light tap of her feet as she reached the wooden floor of the hallway and then the opening and closing of the front door. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly. It would all be okay.

  As that thought crossed his mind, he heard laughter drift up from downstairs; even their laugh sounded the same. If he hadn’t already heard Ellie leaving the house, he would have assumed it was her. He shook his head, checked his watch, swore and ran down the stairs. Coffee would have to wait until he was in the office. He grabbed his keys from the hall table drawer and left.

  19

  Typically, Ellie was late home that night. She rushed in the front door, shouting, ‘I’m home,’ before taking the stairs two steps at a time. She had a quick shower before slipping on a red dress she knew he liked. Dressed, hair loose, she looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. She wasn’t particularly vain, but she knew she looked good. She could hear him humming a happy tune from somewhere in the house and smiled, feeling happier than she had in days.

  He was at the bottom of the stairs waiting when she went down, taking the steps slowly, deliberately swaying her hips, watching that certain look appear in his eyes.

  ‘We don’t have to go for dinner,’ he said, putting a hand around her waist and drawing her close.

  Her laugh tickled against his ear. ‘I’m the kind of starving that only calories will fix,’ she said, pushing away from him and reaching for her coat. They left together, Will stopping in the doorway to call a quick goodbye to Tia before the door clicked shut.

  He had booked dinner at a French restaurant he knew she liked, asking for a table by the window overlooking a neat garden filled with solar-powered fairy lights. Even in the weak winter sun they lit up the trees beautifully at night. It was the closest to magic he could organise and she appreciated it. The service and the food were as good as ever and they sat looking out at the lights and talked of nothing of great importance, hands entwined.

  Finally, over coffee, Will brought up the subject they’d carefully avoided all evening. ‘I’m never going to understand about Tia,’ he said, his fingers tightening on hers. ‘She seems so content with us, I really didn’t think there was an issue with her staying.’

  Ellie returned the pressure on his fingers. ‘I don’t know if it’s because of what happened as children but I see her differently from you, Will. There’s something about her that makes me uneasy. Some of it is the way she can manipulate you so easily.’

  He shook his head. ‘You’re on about those picture frames again?’

  Ellie squeezed his fingers tighter. ‘I know you find it hard to believe, but she was singing just minutes before and then suddenly she was sobbing! She used to do the same when we were children. She’d cry those big tears until she got whatever it was she wanted.’

  She watched him give that idea some thought. It might make it easier for him to understand if he thought of her behaviour as being manipulative.

  Cunning and manipulative, she wanted to say, but decided she’d said enough to give him some thought.

  She wanted to bring up the other matter, Tia’s fertility and the pain it would cause her to see evidence of it every month. But it was still too raw, too gut-wrenchingly difficult to accept and, anyway, she wasn’t sure, despite his protestations, that Will really understood.

  Thankfully, she didn’t need to use it to close her argument. She saw the decision on Will’s face break before he spoke and felt the knot of tension somewhere inside her ease.

  ‘Maybe it’s just impossible to understand what it’s like to be a twin,’ Will conceded. ‘To see someone so like you every day.’ He sighed. ‘I’m not one hundred per cent happy about it but, if it is that important to you, we’ll do as you want.’

  Ellie took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Thank you,’ she said. She didn’t say anything else, instead she ran her free hand over her face and let relief sweep over her. A few months and Tia would be gone. There was no way to explain the inexplicable, so she didn’t try, merely raising his hand to her mouth and pressing her lips to it. She held his gaze. ‘Let’s go home.’

  ‘Better?’ Will whispered in her ear much later.

  Multiple orgasms had left her slick with sweat. ‘Much,’ she said, wiping her face with the sheet. She sat up. ‘I need a shower,’ she said, and then, with a sideways glance at him, ‘you want to come and wash my back?’

  She knew it wasn’t an offer he was likely to refuse. They showered and kissed under the running water, soapy hands caressing until, aroused again, Will lifted her, balanced her against the shower wall and was inside again. ‘You are unbelievable,’ she said, as he strained to hold himself back. He’d always been the most considerate lover and she knew he wanted to see her orgasm again. He’d told her once, in their early days together, that he loved to see that rare look of complete abandonment on her face.

  She was more than pleased to oblige, giving way to the first wave of pleasure and then allowing herself to drown in wave after wave. She felt his release afterwards and wrapped legs and arms around him, holding him inside, close. For a moment, everything except the two of them was forgotten.

  Giggling like children, they dried each other, finger by finger, toe by toe. Will wrapped a towel around her dripping hair. ‘You should dry it before you go to bed,’ he said, tucking the towel in, ‘you might catch cold.’

  Ellie kissed him on the cheek, took the towel from her hair and replaced it more securely. ‘It’ll be fine,’ she said, ‘I used to do this all the time.’

  In bed, Will’s arms wrapped around her, she snuggled into him, loving the smell of him; so different from her despite the same shower gel they’d both used.

  ‘We should market it,’ she said sleepily. ‘Eau de Will.’

  ‘What?’ Will said, hanging on to wakefulness by his fingertips before falling over into sleep before Ellie had time to explain.

  She heard the change in his breathing and carefully moved herself from his embrace. She loved him, but she couldn’t sleep wrapped in his arms. Moving to the other side of the bed, she stretched out. There was nothing like great sex to promise a good night’s sleep. On that thought, she closed her eyes and was gone.

  She slept soundly, moving so little during the night that the towel was still in place when she woke. Will was already up. Ellie’s hand slid over his side of the bed and found it still warm, he hadn’t been gone long. She lay a minute, a smile curving her lips and then, with a sigh, she threw back the duvet and swung her feet to the floor.

  In the bathroom, she unwrapped her still-damp hair. It would be a mess if she didn’t do something with it. She opened a jar, dipped her fingers into the gel and smoothed it over her hair before using the hairdryer to finish drying it and tying it back in a knot with several hairpins. In the competitive world of finance, lo
oking like she’d been caught up in a cyclone was not the impression she wanted to give. A last check in the mirror and she was satisfied; none of the excess of the night before showed on her face.

  Downstairs, she met Will’s smile with a slight blush and a smile of her own before saying hi to Tia who was watching breakfast television in the living room.

  The coffee machine gurgled and steamed. She reached for a cup, poured some and added milk. Lifting it to her mouth, she looked across to where Will still looked at her, a smile lingering on his lips and in his eyes. ‘We’re like naughty schoolchildren,’ she said quietly to him, shaking her head.

  He glanced around to see that Tia was still engrossed in the television and then said softly, ‘Nothing schoolgirl about you last night.’

  Ellie grinned and finished her coffee. ‘I’d better leave this grin behind when I leave for work,’ she said, putting the cup in the dishwasher. They left together, briefcases bumping as they walked along the street, and parted in the tube station with a final smile and a lingering look.

  20

  The next few weeks vanished. Ellie made what seemed like hundreds of phone calls to the company who were developing the residential complex in Brighton, but pleas to allow Tia to move into one of the completed bungalows fell on deaf ears. They were already reserved, she was told. Ellie even went so far as to take the exhausting and, as it turned out, worthless step of going to Brighton to speak to the developer in person. He was pleasant and charming and promised he’d do his best and she came away hopeful only to be told, during a follow-up call to a sales agent, that, as she’d been told several times, Tia couldn’t move in until her designated bungalow was finished.