Tell Me No Secrets

by Lynda Stacey

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ‘What do you mean, you’re getting divorced?’ Kate demanded as she stared at Elizabeth Duggan in disbelief. Her mother had suddenly announced that not only had she decided that she’d left their father, she was leaving him permanently. Kate thought of the conversation she’d had with Eve. Their mother adored their father, everything she did was for him. Her whole life revolved around his, and Kate found it hard to believe that under normal circumstances she’d ever be hearing these words.

  ‘I can’t live with him any more, Kate. I think he’s a sociopath. He’s horrid to live with.’ She looked down at the floor as she spoke.

  ‘But, you can’t. You and Dad, you’re a team, you used to be so good together. I remember how much in love you were. We all thought so. Besides, where the hell would you live?’ Kate’s mind reeled; the fact that her mother had chosen to run here of all places was enough of a warning sign to indicate that if she left her father, she might want to move back to Caldwick.

  ‘I’ve wanted to tell you before. But your father insisted that I shouldn’t, he said you had enough guilt on your shoulders about what you did to your sister, without thinking you’d split us up too. Besides, he’s been working away a lot. It would never have been the right time to tell you.’ She turned toward the cooker.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ Kate screamed. ‘What did I do exactly? Why the hell is any of this my fault?’ In her own mind Kate blamed herself for what happened, even though her rational self understood that it was just a horrific accident that was no one’s fault, but to hear her mother actually accuse her was mind blowing.

  Her mother rummaged through the drawer in search of utensils. ‘Darling, if only you hadn’t insisted that James drive you that night. None of this would have happened. James doesn’t visit anymore; do you know that?’

  Kate spun around on the spot. James doesn’t visit? Was Eve right? Was her mother having some kind of breakdown? She stood for a moment and analysed her mother’s words. She realised she had to tread carefully but couldn’t help her next question. ‘Why … why would you even say that? I couldn’t have predicted what would happen. I didn’t know. I didn’t crash the bloody car.’

  ‘Darling, where do you keep the potato peeler? I can’t find it.’ Her mother slammed the drawer and opened another and Kate seriously wondered how on earth she didn’t know where the peeler was, especially seeing as her mother had cleaned, tidied and reorganised all of her drawers during the past few days.

  Kate sat down at the kitchen table and watched as her mother continued to search. She felt out of her depth and didn’t know what to do. ‘You really do blame me, don’t you? You really think that I wanted all of this? Do you think I want you and Father to split up? Because I’ll tell you now, it’s the last bloody thing I want, because if you did you might end up coming to live here with me.’

  Her mother turned and stared. ‘Kate, we don’t always get what we want. All I know is what we were left with and now we just have to make the best of things and make things right.’

  ‘Right … right?’ Kate screamed. ‘Good God, Mother, how the hell do you make any of this right?’ She pointed to the scar on her face. ‘James is …’ She didn’t know what to say. Did she say that James was dead, should she insist on the truth? She once again pointed to her face. ‘I have this and Eve is paralysed. How can any of us ever put that right?’

  ‘Katie, don’t be so dramatic. I’m leaving your father, lots of people get divorced nowadays and that’s that,’ she said as she chopped up carrots and carefully dropped them into the pot of boiling water. ‘I can’t live with him, he’s been too bitter and twisted and I just wish I knew why,’ her mother growled as she stood facing the range. ‘Every time he talks to me, he says something nasty, something insulting and I don’t like it.’

  Kate laughed out loud and thought of the irony. She looked at her mother’s back and wondered if she actually ever listened to what came out of her own mouth, and for just a moment it occurred to her how alike her mother and father really were. Besides, she’d never ever heard her father say anything nasty, not to anyone, and she wondered if her mother was imagining it.

  ‘It’s true that James was running late for his date,’ Kate began to whisper. She was sick of shouting, her head pounded and she needed a drink. ‘We were just doing what we’d always done. James always took us to town on our birthday; he was always going on a date and he always made out we were too much trouble, making him late. It’s just something he did. He didn’t really mean it.’

  Kate closed her eyes and thought of the times her brother had teased his younger sisters, always moaned when they were in the same clubs as he was, but always invited them in a roundabout way. ‘Don’t you dare be in the Alligator club tonight, especially around ten o’clock,’ he’d tease with a wink, which in his own way had really meant, ‘be there and I’ll buy you both a drink’.

  ‘The car just spun off the road, it was no one’s fault,’ Kate said as she thought back to the accident.

  ‘That’s right, dear, no one’s fault. That’s why my son doesn’t visit, you are scarred for life and my darling Eve now sits in a wheelchair,’ Elizabeth said as she calmly continued to chop vegetables for the evening meal. ‘Of course, if you want to believe that pulling your sister from the car and crippling her was not your fault, then that’s fine; it’s you that has to live with yourself. Your father says that if you’d only caught the bus that day, none of it would have happened and he’d still have his precious law firm. Because of you he had no choice but to sell it.’

  Kate was shocked. Eve was right, her mother really wasn’t admitting to the fact that James was dead. And, even though she’d always suspected that both her mother and father had blamed her, it was the first time that she’d actually come out and said it. It was one thing blaming herself, but quite another to have it confirmed that her parents blamed her too.

  Eve had said that mother had been crying the day before. But now there was no emotion, no sorrow, no sign of tears. The words she’d used had been said with so little feeling that her mother may as well have been reading out a weather report, telling her that Monday would have showers with a hint of sunshine, rather than the fact that she was divorcing her father. Kate didn’t know what to do. Maybe she really was having a breakdown. She looked at her phone. Should she call a doctor, an ambulance, her father?

  ‘Do you want boiled potatoes, dear, or roast?’

  ‘What?’ Kate slammed her hand on the table. ‘Mother, stop chopping the bloody vegetables and sit down. We really need to talk.’ Her chest heaved as pain and realisation tore through her body. She’d tried to put the accident behind her, even though every day she was reminded of the past and nothing made sense.

  Had she really been responsible for crippling her sister?

  All her thoughts raced around in her head, like a huge whirlwind spinning across her mind. In the course of one day she’d discovered that her fiancé was a lying, cheating rat, and she’d been told that both her parents blamed her for both the accident and for destroying their marriage.

  ‘Mum, the accident. I think you should know …’ Kate closed her eyes. How did you reveal to someone that their son was actually dead and not just refusing to visit?

  ‘I know, dear, you’re sorry. But it was still your fault. Could you pass the gravy jug?’

  ‘Are you bloody serious?’

  Elizabeth Duggan walked past Kate, picked up the gravy jug, and then walked back to the range giving the gravy her whole attention, making Kate gasp. Her mother was unbelievable; she could have a nervous breakdown, and throw all of this guilt at her own daughter, but God help anyone who got in the way of making the bloody gravy. Kate walked over to the wine rack, studied the three bottles that sat there, like it mattered, pulled out a bottle of red and then poured a large glass, drinking it down in one gulp.

  ‘Yes, please, darling, I’ll have a glass. Now did you say boiled potatoes or roast? I think roast ar
e so much nicer with beef, dear, don’t you agree?’ Elizabeth Duggan looked up from the gravy boat that she’d been polishing with a tea towel.

  Kate felt her world begin to spin. She sat down quickly as her legs began to wobble. ‘Mother! After all you’ve just said, do you seriously want to know what bloody potatoes I want? I doubt I could eat them,’ Kate growled as anger took over her voice. ‘Have you any idea how the accident ruined my life too?’ She picked up a tea towel and began viciously rubbing the make-up from her face. ‘That day ruined everything.’ Kate held her chin toward her mother, pointed at the red puckered ridge that lined her jaw and watched as her mother quickly averted her gaze.

  In the last twenty-four hours her life had turned from being predictably boring to being a complicated nightmare. It was now an intricate web of deceit, of secrets and lies, that spread out in every direction and she had no idea how to control the outbreak.

  Kate saw her mother’s bottom lip quiver. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Sorry? Does sorry even cut it? You need help, professional help. You need a doctor,’ she said as she gulped down the wine. ‘I need to phone Eve; she has a right to know what’s happening, she needs to know about you and Daddy.’

  Her mother nodded. ‘She knows, dear, I told her this afternoon.’

  ‘She knows? So what did she say? Is she all right, should we go to her?’

  ‘Don’t be silly, dear, Eve’s fine. She certainly didn’t react as childishly as you have.’ Once again the comments came, as cutting as ever.

  Kate held her head in her hands. If only her mother knew what an awful week she’d had, if only she could talk to her, tell her the truth, confide in her about Rob and let her know how her life had suddenly turned upside down. But if she knew it would only give her more ammunition, which undoubtedly she’d throw right back at her and Kate had no intention of giving her that privilege.

  The whole conversation explained so much. At least now Kate understood why her mother had begun with the comments, the insults and the carefully placed accusations that had made her so unbearable for the past year.

  Kate closed her eyes and wished that it had been her that had died and not James. In her eyes, he’d been the one to escape, the one who didn’t have to be here, to live through the heartache and to cope with all of this. She opened her eyes and poured more wine into her glass.

  ‘Darling, make that your last. No one likes a drunken woman, do they?’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Barely remembering the twists and turns of the country lanes, Kate drove into Bedale. The roads were uncharacteristically empty; the weather was drizzly, cold and windy for mid spring. Everything about the journey completely matched her mood. Tears rolled down her face as she pulled up on the cobbled road in front of the office. She simply sat and stared at the Victorian building before her.

  A knock on the window made her jump and she looked toward the noise, but her eyes were misted and she could barely focus.

  ‘Hey, what are you doing here? You okay? Is it Rob?’ Ben’s deep tone startled her. She shook her head. Opening the car door, Ben carefully pulled her towards him. ‘What happened? Come on, you’re all right. I’ve got you now.’ His arms encircled her and she felt the strength within them.

  He held her gently as she told him about the conversation she had had with her mother the night before, that she thought her mother was having a nervous breakdown and now she felt guilty for having left her alone in the house.

  ‘Nervous breakdown or not, I can’t believe she said all of that, and then expected you to sit through dinner,’ Ben said. ‘What kind of a person is she?’

  Kate slowly shook her head. ‘Apparently, she’s a sick person. But I don’t know how to handle her. I had no idea what to say, she isn’t even admitting to James being dead.’

  ‘Does she need medical help? Is she in any danger?’

  Kate didn’t know the answer, but Ben’s voice slowly bore its way through the thick mist that had overtaken her mind. She stared into space. The tears had continued, stopped and then started again.

  ‘Come on, I’ll get you a drink,’ he whispered. His arms were still supporting her protectively and her head leaned against him. She felt shielded.

  ‘I don’t need a drink,’ she replied. Even though it was cold and they were both getting wet, she had no wish to move away. His aftershave overpowered her senses and she closed her eyes and breathed in the scent. She wondered what it would be like to be loved by someone like Ben. Her eyes burnt with the lack of sleep and she closed them. Her mind swam into a deep engulfing fog. Her whole body blended against his, as a deep sense of exhaustion enveloped her.

  ‘Where’s Gloria?’ Kate heard the words as he shepherded her through the door and towards the settee. He helped her to sit, but her whole mind drifted into her own thoughts. Nothing felt real.

  ‘Kate, it’s Saturday. It’s Gloria’s day off, and yours.’ She felt his hold loosen.

  ‘Is it really?’ She went to stand up, feeling embarrassed. Not only had she gone into work on the weekend, it suddenly occurred to her that after only a week she’d felt safer heading for the office than she had staying at home.

  She pulled a tissue from a box on the table and blew her nose loudly.

  ‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Not very ladylike, is it?’ She tried to smile and lighten the mood. She eased away and pulled out a second tissue, but then sat back down as she became aware of how much she’d cried and the probability that her make-up had now been completely rubbed off.

  ‘Look. I’m so sorry,’ she whispered, feeling a sense of embarrassment. ‘I need to …’ She wanted to say that she needed to cover her scar, hide it from view, but couldn’t find the words.

  ‘Sorry for what?’ A gentle, dazzling smile lit up Ben’s face.

  ‘Well, for bawling for a start. I shouldn’t bring personal problems to work, especially on what’s supposed to be my day off. You hardly know me and you don’t need this.’ She tried to smile back at him.

  ‘I think you had good reason. The past couple of days have been hard on you.’ Ben sighed. ‘Did Rob come home last night?’

  Kate shook her head.

  ‘None of that could have been easy for you. You are still in a relationship with him.’ His words were calm and Kate once again blew her nose.

  ‘Not for long. He won’t hurt me again.’

  Ben had sat back down beside her and once again Kate leaned against him and sobbed.

  Ben sat back, pulled Kate into a hold and waited for her tears to subside. He breathed in and out as gently as he could, fearing that any sudden movement would cause her to move. He looked up as the door from the hallway opened and Patrick stepped into the room, took one look at Ben and Kate, then stopped in his tracks. Ben put a finger to his lips, waved a hand at him to retreat and Patrick took a step backwards, carefully closing the door behind him.

  His hand gently stroked Kate’s hair. It smelled beautiful and he noticed that she’d carried on curling it around the edges, just as the hairdresser had done. It suited her and added to her bubbly personality. A personality which had currently disappeared and been replaced by a blubbering mess, all because her family had happily pushed her into the line of fire and allowed her to take the blame for something she hadn’t done.

  He didn’t know why he cared, she was right, he barely knew her, but somewhere deep within him, he felt the need to protect her; but he felt helpless and didn’t know where to start or whether she’d want his protection. He remembered how helpless he’d felt when Julia had taken ill. He’d had to watch while the meningitis took over. Her whole body had been riddled with septicaemia, which had travelled through her like a fast flowing river. There had been nothing he could do to save her or the child that she’d carried inside. Yet still he wondered what his life would have been like. By now his baby would have been a toddler. He or she would have been walking, talking and calling his name. Calling him Daddy. He swallowed hard at the thought. He’d been
happy, so very happy, yet one day, without warning it had all been taken from him. He’d spent the last four years wishing that she’d come back, and had waited for a ghost that couldn’t and wouldn’t return.

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. Was this why he felt so strongly about what had happened to Kate? Was this why he felt the need to protect her? Because she too had had everything taken away, without warning? And the question was, could he protect her? Or would she be taken away from him too?

  He looked down and realised that Kate was sleeping. Soft, gentle sounds of relaxation could be heard and he smiled, feeling happy that she’d felt comfortable enough to fall asleep, and that she’d trusted him to watch over her.

  And now, for the first time he found himself fighting back feelings that he’d previously pushed away. He’d stayed away from other women, but Kate was different; she was feisty one minute, yet fragile and vulnerable the next. He wanted her to be more than a colleague, but the last thing she needed right now was someone else confusing her already bewildered mind.

  He lowered his lips to her forehead, kissing her gently. He knew it was wrong. Now was not the time to make a move on her and he wouldn’t. For now, all she needed was a friend and friendship was something he could happily give.

  Kate stirred in his arms and suddenly sat up. She yawned, stretched, and her hand immediately went up to her scar. Ben noticed that she turned her face away, hiding it from his view. He tried to think; he needed to do or say something to relax her.

  ‘Hey, sleepyhead. Listen, Patrick and I have to go on location today. And seeing as it’s your day off, and you’re here, I wondered if you fancied coming with us?’ he asked as he leaned forward and stood up from the settee. ‘We’re going into Whitby to check out some of the fishing boats, see a few contacts and chat with one or two of the locals. Apparently, there’s a boat there called Red Lady.’