Tell Me A Secret

by Samantha Hayes

  Lorna is silent for a moment, but even through fuzzy lenses, I can see that her cheeks pink up and her eyes turn teary.

  ‘A lodger…’ she says as if she didn’t mean to, as if the word is a bitter pill.

  ‘Yes,’ I say, sitting back down, folding my arms. ‘Thing is, it all went a bit… a bit wrong.’ I pull a face.

  ‘Wrong?’

  ‘Yes, I had to… end it,’ I explain. I take her glasses off, setting them down on the desk, going over to the window and pulling back the blinds. It’s raining and there’s no sign of Nigel. He told me he was going down to the job centre today.

  ‘I’m almost getting the feeling you’re afraid to be loved, Nikki.’ She swallows drily. ‘As if you put yourself in situations which you know are wrong for you. Like a protection, a defence against being loved genuinely so you can’t get hurt. Things from our pasts can have an odd way of manifesting in the present.’

  ‘Oh, those pesky little things from our past,’ I say, flashing her a look before sitting down again. ‘How they simmer away in our unconscious minds.’ I lean forward. ‘Then boom!’ I clap my hands together, making her jump. ‘Something explodes. Something so big happens, so unexpected that everything just clears like a fog lifting and it’s as though you can suddenly see things as they really are.’

  Lorna is silent again, biting her lip, staring at me, then at her notepad, not knowing where to look.

  ‘And it’s in that flash of clarity that you know exactly what to do to make things right. Even if it means doing something so terrible, so dangerous, so hateful and messed-up you feel as if you won’t be able to live with yourself ever again.’ I sip more water, eyeing her over the glass. ‘Does that make sense?’

  She gives a tiny nod, barely perceptible.

  ‘Because sometimes you have no choice.’

  And deep in her eyes, I see that she understands me perfectly.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Lorna

  ‘Lilly! Lilly!’ Freya says, jumping about in the hallway when her friend comes inside. It’s good to see her excited for a change.

  ‘Come on, Frey,’ Mark says. ‘Let everyone get in.’

  She grabs Lilly’s hand and leads her upstairs to her bedroom, leaving me wondering how two little girls can make such a noise on the stairs.

  ‘Lorn,’ Annie says, with an almost pitiful look on her face, her head tilted. ‘How are you doing?’ She reaches out for a hug.

  Her tone makes me feel like a patient, wondering what everyone’s been saying about me behind my back, discussing my mood, my looks, why I haven’t seemed myself lately. But tonight, I’ve made the effort. I have to appear normal for everyone’s sake. For my sake.

  ‘I’m well, thanks,’ I say, hugging her and Ed. I take their coats and the wine they’ve brought, and go through to the kitchen with Annie following behind. ‘Actually, I feel pretty great,’ I say, forcing a smile, testing out the words. ‘And it’s Friday.’ I reach a couple of glasses down from the cupboard. ‘Yay.’ It comes out a lot flatter than I’d intended.

  ‘Cheers to that,’ Annie says, raising her glass. ‘I’m happy to see you looking so much brighter. Nice top, by the way.’

  I chink glasses with her as Mark rummages in the fridge for beers, going back into the living room where Ed is. A moment later and he’s got the vinyl on and I hear them in deep discussion about music. Annie and I sit perched on stools at the island worktop.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, smoothing down the sheer fabric. Truth is, I’m a bit behind with the laundry and it was the only thing I could find in my wardrobe that was clean and not made of Lycra or sweatshirt fabric. It’s killing me to wear it, though. Why I bought it, who I wore it for, makes me want to scream.

  You look stunning in that, he’d said. Shame I’m going to have to take it off you… It was that night on the boat.

  ‘Ooh, someone’s got some fancy ideas,’ Annie says, sliding some brochures across the counter. ‘Booking a holiday?’ She flicks through one – the blue skies, slivers of white sandy beaches and beautiful people relaxing, laughing, holding hands, turning my stomach.

  ‘All Mark’s doing,’ I say. ‘He came home with them today. He wants just the two of us to go away. And soon.’

  ‘How romantic,’ Annie says, nudging me. ‘Though you don’t sound very enthusiastic. Look at all the activities and water sports in this place.’ She glances at the front again. ‘Antigua. Tell me you’re not turning down scuba diving and sailing in the Caribbean? I really will think you’ve lost your mind then.’

  I force the laugh, allow the smile. ‘It’s a nice thought but there’s work, my clients… I can’t just let them down at a moment’s notice.’ Then the other morning flashes through my mind, when I cancelled a morning’s list to see Andrew. ‘Anyway, I can’t exactly ask Mum to look after Freya while we go away. She’s got her hands full enough with… well, you know.’

  ‘Your dad?’

  I nod, rolling my eyes. ‘Nothing changes.’

  ‘Anyway, you don’t need to ask your mum, stupid. Not when you’ve got me. Duh.’ She makes a silly face and sips her wine, helping herself to the olives I put out. ‘Lilly would love it if Frey came to stay for a week or two. I’m her bloody godmother, Lorn. What use am I if I can’t give you and Mark some alone time?’

  ‘Thanks, Annie, that’s kind,’ I say, considering the idea for a moment. I’m Lilly’s godmother too, and Annie’s the only one I’d truly trust with Freya should anything ever happen to me and Mark. I know she’d have a good home with Lilly as a new sister – and, I sometimes wonder, a better home given how things stand here now. But, if the worst should happen, it makes me worry about what Jack would do, not having his own mother or any godparents. He’s not quite eighteen and seems a mile off being independent. I suppose Mark’s mum and dad up north would take him in, though he barely knows them.

  ‘Try not to look quite so morose about it, Lorn?’ Annie says, rolling her eyes while flipping through another brochure. ‘Wow, look at this place. Pure luxury.’

  I give it a quick glance, unable to get excited about a holiday when Andrew is lying in a morgue somewhere. I think about his relatives, family, friends – how they were told, who’s making arrangements. I knew so little about him, or what he represented in my life, why I was so attached to him.

  Then the thought of meeting whoever Andy_jag is tomorrow makes my heart race, my palms sweat. I glug back some wine to dull my nerves, just as Freya and Lilly tumble into the room – a welcome distraction.

  ‘Mummy, is it time to order pizza yet?’ Freya says, jumping up and down. They’ve both got scarlet lipstick daubed on their mouths and are each wearing a pair of my heels.

  ‘Oh Christ, I hope that’s not Lorna’s best Chanel lipstick, you girls,’ Annie says, covering her face and laughing.

  ‘Don’t worry, I don’t own such a thing,’ I say, grabbing a menu from the drawer.

  ‘It’s this one, Mummy,’ Freya says, sounding as though she’s going to get a telling-off. ‘Is it OK to use?’ She holds out a little tube with the end all gooey and wound right out. It’s as scarlet as scarlet comes. I don’t recognise it.

  ‘Oh,’ I say, taking hold of it. ‘Did you get this from Annie’s bag? It’s not mine.’

  ‘And definitely not mine,’ Annie says, laughing. ‘You wouldn’t see me dead in that colour.’

  ‘It was on your dressing table, Mummy,’ Freya says, looking worried. ‘Please don’t be cross.’

  ‘It’s OK, darling,’ I say, hating that she almost looks scared. ‘No telling off. You both look gorgeous. Just mind your ankles in those shoes.’ I open my iPad, pulling up the pizza menu. ‘Here, choose what you want, girls.’ I turn to Annie while they discuss toppings. ‘That’s odd,’ I say, looking at the lipstick. ‘I’ve never seen this in my life before. It’s just some cheap brand, look,’ I say, showing her the logo. ‘I might not be a Chanel girl, but I certainly have my standards. I’ve never bought this type before.’
>
  ‘It’s amazing what you keep buried at the back of your cosmetics drawer,’ Annie says. ‘But at least Freya and Lilly are having fun.’

  ‘No, Annie, you’re not hearing me. This is not my lipstick.’ I glance through to the living room. Mark and Ed are engrossed in conversation. ‘I have no idea where it’s come from.’

  Within the hour, the six of us are sitting around the table – the girls tucking into Hawaiian pizza, while we adults share out a Chinese.

  ‘Sorry it’s just another takeaway,’ Mark says to Annie and Ed. He gives me a look. ‘Lorna, perhaps you could do that lamb dish next time they come over? A home-cooked meal.’

  ‘Nonsense, this is just fine,’ Annie says, touching my arm, before I can reply. ‘That’s why restaurants have delivery services,’ she says, passing me the rice.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, freezing with the serving spoon halfway to my plate. I catch Mark’s eye from the other end of the table. ‘I’ll cook next time, for sure.’

  He stares at me, pausing before giving me his trademark smile, eyes creasing, lighting up. I breathe again.

  ‘Ed, you should see where Mark’s taking Lorna,’ Annie says. ‘The Caribbean.’

  ‘Nice for some,’ Ed replies, laughing and almost choking on a prawn cracker. ‘Did you remember to book Butlins, love?’

  ‘All sorted, darling,’ Annie replies, blowing a pouty kiss across the table. ‘And Frey-frey, how do you fancy coming to stay with us while Mummy and Daddy go on holiday? Jack too, if he wants, though I suspect he’d rather stop at home.’

  I watch my daughter’s face and, for a moment, she glances at me, looking scared, a little lost, but then, when she realises what it means – lots of sleepovers at her best friend’s house – she beams approval.

  ‘Then you won’t feel sad any more, will you?’ Lilly says, grabbing another slice of pizza. ‘For not having any friends. But don’t worry, cos I’ll always be your friend and it’ll be like we’re sisters and stuff, and you can even share my mummy and nana if you like, then you won’t have to worry.’

  Freya stops eating, her bottom lip quivering.

  ‘What do you mean, not having any friends?’ I ask Lilly, biting my tongue about Freya sharing her mum and grandma.

  ‘Since Freya hurt that girl Rosie, no one at her school will be her friend,’ Lilly mumbles with a string of cheese stretching out of her mouth. ‘But you can come to my school instead if you like,’ she says matter-of-factly, chewing.

  ‘It was only cos Rosie told everyone about Nana,’ Freya snaps back with a scowl. ‘She deserved it.’ She crushes the remains of her pizza slice between her fingers, tears pooling in her eyes. ‘But I wish Jack had never told me to hurt her,’ she says, just as her big brother comes into the dining room, striding right up behind her. His smile falls away and his cheeks burn scarlet when he hears what Freya just said.

  ‘Hi, love,’ I say to him, trying to ease his agony. It’s not the right time to discuss this. ‘Would you like some food?’

  ‘No, thanks,’ he says quietly, giving Freya a look and shaking his head. He sighs heavily and goes off upstairs.

  ‘Christ,’ I whisper, glancing at Annie. I put my napkin on the table and go after him. ‘Jack… Jack, wait—’

  ‘Abbi, just leave him be,’ Mark says firmly, making me stop in my tracks, the hair on my arms standing on end.

  I turn around slowly. ‘What did you just call me?’ I grab the door frame.

  ‘I said, “Baby, just leave him be”.’ He stares at me, smiling kindly, no doubt wondering what’s got into me, why I seem so on edge and anxious. ‘Come on, sit down and enjoy your meal, Lorn, before it goes cold.’

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Lorna

  I’m not going. I can’t possibly go. It’s dangerous, foolhardy, risky and reckless. I’ve been awake since 4 a.m., wishing I hadn’t drunk quite so much wine last night. My head thrums.

  Mark shifts beside me, groaning, reaching out a hand to me, finding my skin beneath the T-shirt I’m wearing. Even though his eyes are closed, I see the smile spread on his face. He presses up close, letting me know how he’s feeling.

  ‘Morning,’ I whisper. He leans in for a kiss, wrapping his arms around me. ‘I’m going for a run soon,’ I say, incapable of giving him what he wants right now.

  ‘Noo,’ he says, holding on tight.

  I tense. I can’t do it. Not with everything on my mind. I switched my phone off overnight, making sure it was in my bedside table drawer rather than left downstairs. I hardly dare turn it on for fear of there being more messages from Andy_jag, perhaps cancelling. Perhaps worse.

  ‘Love, I need to get up,’ I say, stretching, trying to pull away. But Mark’s holding on. ‘I haven’t run in ages and I’m losing my fitness. I want to go on…’ I hesitate, hating myself all over again. ‘… on quite a long one today. Will you just hang out here with Freya for a bit?’

  ‘You know what?’ he says, backing off and sitting up suddenly with a grin. ‘I’ll come with you. Jack can stay with Freya. He won’t mind, plus there’s leftover pizza for their breakfast. You know how much they love that.’

  ‘You want to come with me?’

  ‘Sure. We hardly ever run together. It’ll be fun. You can show me your favourite route.’

  ‘Well… I was going to try out a different one today. And… and actually, I’m meeting Cath and we’re going to get a smoothie along the way. Have a natter.’

  ‘Cath? Running?’ Mark laughs, stretching his arms out before putting them behind his head.

  ‘She’s trying to get fit,’ I say unconvincingly. ‘For her new dates. We’ll just be chatting about girl stuff.’

  ‘Fine,’ he says, eyeing me. ‘I’ll leave you two to it, then.’ And he throws the duvet off, getting up and heading for the shower.

  It’s a bright morning and, thankfully, being Saturday, the park is busy. I pull my sunglasses down off my head, covering my eyes as I approach, glancing all around, suspicious of everyone. Mums and dads with pushchairs, toddlers in hand, are everywhere, as well as other runners, people meeting up, couples out for a morning stroll. It’s all so normal, all so unthreatening and regular, yet every face I see sends fear through me – especially when someone catches my eye, like the man who just wheeled his bicycle past, staring at me for a moment too long.

  Was that him? Was that Andy_jag?

  I’m dressed in my running gear, so Mark didn’t get suspicious, and my hair is swept back and covered by a dark grey bandana. My sweat top is zipped up to my chin but, try as I might, I can’t hide my entire face behind sunglasses and the collar. Anyone who knows me would still recognise me. I’m keeping away from the spot I suggested we meet at, choosing to wait, as inconspicuously as I can, a little bit removed but where I can still see the park gates. Still able to run for it should I need to. And if it’s the police setting me up, it wouldn’t look good if they knew I showed up here, the location mentioned in Andrew’s Double Take account. Not with them coming to see me on Monday.

  I check my watch yet again. Twenty minutes to go.

  ‘What are you doing, for God’s sake?’ I whisper under my breath, pacing about, checking my phone for the hundredth time. There haven’t been any more messages and he’s not been online since I agreed to meet. ‘This is madness. Just prolonging the pain…’ Tears collect behind my sunglasses, and I’m thankful no one can see. If I was sensible, I’d go home and forget it, get on with my life, get the therapy Joe suggested.

  ‘Oops, sorry, sweetheart,’ someone says, startling me. I nearly scream as they bump into me.

  ‘Oh… that’s OK,’ I say, relieved it’s just an old man. I pace about, catching site of a food van out in the street not far from the gates. It looks as though it’s just set up and could be a good place to watch from without looking suspicious. A couple of people are waiting to be served. A coffee would be a good distraction to pass the next fifteen minutes – each one dragging like an hour. I stare at every single f
ace going in or out of the park gates as I head over towards the van, joining the queue.

  At first, it doesn’t register who’s inside, who’s casually tossing burgers and sausages on the griddle, shovelling onions around with a spatula. Probably because I’m too busy staring at the passers-by, hoping, praying to see Andrew, by some miracle, still alive.

  But something has snagged in my mind, making me even more anxious. It doesn’t fully hit me until the other customers have left with their coffees, until I’m up against the counter, staring up at her with no chance of walking away unnoticed.

  ‘Hello!’ Nikki says brightly, instantly recognising me. ‘Fancy seeing you here. Isn’t it a lovely morning?’ She’s alone in the van.

  ‘Oh,’ I say, desperate to turn and go. I don’t want to risk engaging with a client outside of work again, and certainly not now when I’m preoccupied. Plus, I don’t want to miss Andy_jag. ‘Hi, yes, lovely.’ I step away, deciding against the coffee.

  ‘What can I get you?’ she says, stopping me in my tracks. If I’m rude and ignore her, she might say something to the clinic. And she did speak to me first so, technically, talking with her very briefly is OK.

  ‘Just a coffee, please,’ I say quietly. ‘Black, no sugar.’ I keep my eye on everyone coming and going from the park.

  ‘Live around here, then, do you?’ she says, scraping the hotplate, adding more burgers. I glance up at her briefly.

  ‘Er, no. Yes, kind of,’ I say. ‘Not really.’

  She laughs again, her broad, white smile seeming different now she’s outside of the therapy room, as if she’s much more comfortable in her domain: the burger van. ‘You don’t sound too sure?’

  I smile, not replying, stepping from one foot to the other, my eyes flicking about. Chatting to a client was not on the agenda.