Tell Me No Secrets

by Lynda Stacey

  ‘How dare you blame me!’ Isobel was furious and threw the bar of soap in her anger. It flew from her hand and hit the wall with the velocity of a bullet. It broke into a hundred pieces and dropped into the dirt on the floor.

  ‘Oh, wasn’t that clever?’ Roberto shouted. ‘That was our only bar of soap.’

  Isobel burst into tears. ‘You’re lucky it wasn’t a knife.’

  ‘Really.’ He grabbed her hair and pulled her out of the water. Isobel screamed and grabbed at her head. ‘Stand up,’ he growled, pulling her naked body over the side of the bath and throwing her to the floor. ‘Pick it up, clean it, and when I get back, I expect it to look like a bar of soap, just in case I want to be selfish enough to use all the dry wood in one go, and take a damn bath.’

  ‘I hate you.’ Her words were venomous, as was the look in her eyes.

  ‘Yeah. Well, I hate you too. Get some sleep. I might be back tomorrow. I might not.’

  The door crashed shut behind him.

  Roberto walked through the trees, towards the cliffs. He needed to get some air and to look at the sea. He checked his mobile for the hundredth time that day and moved himself into an open area in the hope of getting a better signal, when it suddenly sprang into life and Giancarlo’s name flashed up on the screen.

  ‘Giancarlo, thank God. What’s happening?’ Roberto sat down on the grass and took in deep breaths of sea air.

  ‘Well. What’s happening? That’s a good question.’ Giancarlo’s tone was on the edge of aggressive and Roberto knelt up nervously and looked around.

  ‘We did the drugs lift, Giancarlo, just as you said but we had problems, someone squealed. At first, we thought it was the captain, we got rid of him, over the side. But then, Luca, he disappeared and now, we’re thinking it must have been him.’

  ‘Is that what you think? Is it? Well, let me tell you now. I don’t pay you to think,’ Giancarlo growled down the phone.

  ‘Right, sorry. We’ve made our way to the hideout.’ He paused for breath and once again looked around, checking that no one could hear his conversation.

  ‘At the hideout, good, good. I’m sure Isobel is loving the luxury? Is she?’

  ‘Luxury, Giancarlo, are you serious? She’s really not impressed, driving me insane. You’ve got to get us out of here and soon, because I swear another few days with her and I’ll be burying her in the woods.’

  Giancarlo laughed. ‘Well then, that’s good, everything turned out exactly as you both deserved and just as I wished.’

  ‘Wished? Wished? What the hell are you talking about?’ Roberto closed his eyes as the sudden realisation hit him: Giancarlo was not coming.

  ‘My boy. Didn’t I always tell you not to cross me? Didn’t I warn Isobel that she shouldn’t cross me either, that she should stay faithful, that she was mine to have and mine alone? Well she was unfaithful, I knew over a year ago that she was sleeping with Luca and then more recently with you. And that’s why I originally put a bounty on her head. But now, they have all of you.’ He paused. ‘Two hundred thousand was a small price to pay to bring you all to justice.’ He laughed, ‘Well, this is what happens to people who go against me. I get my revenge.’

  Roberto pulled the phone away from his ear, and stared at the handset before carrying on. ‘Giancarlo, I swear, I didn’t know. You have to believe that. Isobel only just told me. I’m begging you, take it out on her if you wish, but you have to come get me.’

  ‘Ahhhh, Roberto. That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t have to do anything. You see, I’m clean. They have nothing on me. I’ve made sure of that. But, you my boy, murdered James Duggan and now the captain of the Red Lady, admittedly with the help of your cousin, Luca, and Isobel, which makes her a drug dealing, murdering accessory. Which means, one way or another, you’re all screwed and you’re all going to prison.’

  Roberto could feel his anger boiling. He stood up and walked towards the cliff edge and looked at the sea which threw itself angrily up against the rocks. Giancarlo had stitched them up.

  ‘Giancarlo. That’s where you’re wrong. I still have the drugs and drugs mean money. I can buy my way out of the country and when I do, you bastard, I’m coming for you. You’d better watch your back,’ he shouted down the phone.

  But Giancarlo just laughed. ‘Do you think for one minute I’d have let you get your hands on the real drugs? The drugs you have, my boy, are made of talcum powder. They’re worthless.’ Roberto heard a sickening, high pitched laugh come from Giancarlo. And then the phone went dead.

  ‘Bastard,’ he shouted, and then cursed. He closed his eyes and kicked at the dirt. He had no money and no drugs to sell. He had no choice but to go back to River Cottage, find his passport and get as far away from here as possible. He needed to stay hidden and, when it was safe, he needed to get out of the country. He nodded. That’s what he’d do. But what if Kate was there? He thought for a moment. Well, he hoped she was. It had all been her fault. If she’d been a woman to satisfy him he’d never have strayed with all those women, had sex with Isobel and annoyed Giancarlo. He nodded as though agreeing with himself. Kate was to blame for everything and he’d make her sorry for bringing him to this.

  Roberto made his way through the trees and the undergrowth as he followed the track by torchlight, kicking at shrubs of grass along the way until he got close to the beach, turned and followed the narrow path towards where he’d hidden the van.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  ‘You’re both here then,’ Elizabeth Duggan said as Kate pushed Eve’s wheelchair through the door and into the substantial hallway of their parents’ home.

  ‘Yes, Mother, we’re both here,’ Eve replied, the sense of dread in her voice more than apparent and Kate felt sorry that she’d practically forced her into coming.

  ‘I thought Ben was coming with you, dear.’ Her mother looked past both her and Eve, as though expecting him to walk in behind them. ‘I’ve heard so much about him and can’t wait to meet him. He just has to be nicer than the last one you had. And where’s Max?’

  Kate took a deep breath. ‘He’s with Eric.’ It had been two days since Rob had gone missing. During those days she and Ben had become very close. They’d eaten together, waited for news together and had slept in the same bed together. They’d held onto each other for constant support, and on more than once occasion, Ben had gently kissed her, without expectation of more.

  No one knew where Rob was. Whether he was dead or alive, and if he was alive, where he’d turn up next. At Ben’s insistence, Kate had stayed with him at all times, just in case Rob did come back, and the feeling of nervous anticipation surrounded them both. She knew she didn’t love Rob anymore, and wondered if she ever really had.

  Kate thought of Ben, of how he’d supported her when she needed it the most and if she were really honest, she was a little disappointed that things hadn’t gone further. But then, after what he’d said, maybe he was biding his time and waiting for the right moment, or maybe, it could be that he was just being a friend and wasn’t interested in romance at all.

  They’d talked for hours. Ben had given her sensible advice. Advice she’d quickly realised was right. She knew that her mother was sick, she needed help, medical help. But also, Kate knew that the only way things would get better, for them all, was if she were to say what was on her mind, and tell them how she felt, once and for all. If things didn’t change, if Mother didn’t agree to get the treatment she needed, then Kate felt that she had no choice but to walk away. Permanently.

  She sighed, loudly, and glanced over to where her mother stood, hands on hips, looking her up and down.

  ‘Katie, wake up, dear. Now, what are you wearing?’ she asked as Kate looked down at the clothes she’d borrowed from Eve. She sat down on the antique pew, and removed her pumps before dropping them into the wicker basket by the door and then helped Eve with her coat, replaced her shoes with slippers and then pushed her through to the huge antique oak kitchen with its array of units and coloss
al range, which put most people’s cookers to shame.

  ‘Mother. Kate’s wearing my dungarees. I only bought them last week and they’re the latest fashion. They look nice,’ Eve responded before picking up a magazine and pretending to look at it. Kate had held her breath during the retort and now watched as Eve flicked through its pages hoping their mother wouldn’t give out any more insults. The last thing either of them needed tonight was any sort of lecture.

  Kate already wished she was back in Caldwick with Ben.

  ‘I’ll be there late tonight,’ Ben had said as he’d hugged her goodbye.

  ‘Now then, we have roast chicken, new potatoes, cauliflower with a cheese sauce, broccoli and carrots. Is that okay, girls?’ Elizabeth’s voice rang out as though nothing had been said. It was as though during any given emergency it was Mother’s job to cook the dinner and nothing would ever stop her.

  Elizabeth Duggan busied herself in the kitchen and Kate studied her, wishing she’d been blessed with the kind of parent who would at least be happy to see them, or at least give them a hug when they needed one. But unless something dramatic happened, that would never happen. Not in this house, it never really had, and Kate walked out of the kitchen and into the garden. The fresh air would do her good. Besides, she needed to think. Tonight was the first time she’d seen both of her parents together for months; it would be the perfect opportunity to speak to them both and she wanted to think carefully about what to say.

  She sat on an old wooden bench and stared into space.

  A robin settled on the ground in front of her seat and chirped at her while it dug for worms in the soft, well-tended soil.

  ‘Oh to be a bird,’ she thought as she wondered what sort of life the robin really had. It had to be less complicated than her life. But then again it must have its perils too and the idea of scratching around in the dirt for dinner didn’t appeal.

  She thought of Rob, of whether any of it had been real. Whether he’d ever loved her or he had just appeared in her life after the accident and hadn’t left. Her mind once again drifted to the accident. She still wasn’t sure what had really happened, whether there had been another car, whether they’d had to swerve to miss it, or had James simply lost control?

  There were so many questions, with so few answers.

  It was just after six o’clock when the front door opened and her father walked in from the golf club. It was Sunday, the one day that he didn’t work. He looked older and more tired than he’d been the last time they’d seen him, but seemed to be happy when he walked in and saw them. But mother was determined not to be outshone and she immediately ran to him, kissed him on the cheek, took his overcoat from his hand, and hung it up for him, just as she always had.

  ‘Did you play well, dear?’ she asked automatically as she closed the cloakroom door and returned to the kitchen to finish the dinner.

  ‘Yes, dear,’ came the customary answer. ‘Now then, let me take a look at the girls.’ He held his arms out towards Eve, as though waiting for her to run into them, just as she’d done as a child. Eve wheeled herself over without hesitation and hugged him affectionately, but Kate stood back, waiting to be invited, just as she’d done since the accident had happened. ‘Come on, Kate. What are you waiting for, give your father a hug.’ He looked up at her and she smiled with relief, knowing that all was not lost.

  The dinner was served at the farmhouse table in the kitchen. Kate sat silently. She had nothing to say, not yet and she spent the whole time pushing vegetables around her plate, without eating a single one. Her throat was still sore and the thought of chewing and swallowing still filled her with dread. Looking up, her father simply stared at his plate and ate. Normally he’d have made conversation. He’d chat about work, politics, his golf game or the traffic, but tonight he also said nothing, which increased the tension that passed through the room.

  Kate flinched as her mother suddenly jumped up from her seat, wrung her hands on her apron and snatched the plate from before her. She scraped its untouched contents noisily into the bin and then rinsed it carefully, before placing it neatly in the dishwasher. Collecting the rest of the dishes, she smiled at both Father and Eve, asking if they’d enjoyed all the lovely food that she’d taken the time to prepare.

  Kate’s eyes caught Eve’s. She’d already told her that she planned on speaking to her parents and knew that Eve wasn’t happy with the idea and would prefer to keep the peace, never ask the reasons why and stay surrounded by her own bubble, without fear of rupture.

  Kate patted Eve’s hand. ‘It’ll be fine,’ she whispered as Mother approached with dessert.

  Kate stood up and spoke. ‘Father.’ She kissed Eve on the cheek and then walked toward the lounge door. ‘Could I speak to you please?’

  Eve cringed as her mother tutted loudly, it was obvious she didn’t like being left out of the conversation. Eve left her dessert untouched, excused herself from the table and began to wheel her chair into the lounge. She hadn’t wanted to come and would have been happier at home, with Eric and Max, but Kate had needed her support and Eve knew she’d do anything for Kate.

  Solomon, her parents’ ginger tabby cat, jumped up onto her knee and pummelled her lap, before settling down to find a comfortable place to sleep. The cat was at least twelve years old and had always settled with Eve at every chance he got.

  ‘Oh, hi, Solomon. How are you doing, my ickle puddy cat? Did you miss me?’ She tickled the cat’s ears and watched as he turned on his back, making himself more comfortable. ‘I bet you did.’

  ‘Eve, darling, he’s just a cat. Cats are far too independent. They don’t miss anyone.’ Her mother’s tone droned in from the kitchen and Eve sighed, deciding much to Solomon’s disapproval that she might try and wheel herself further away, maybe make her way into the den, anywhere where her mother might never find her.

  But it was Kate who came to find her.

  ‘Eve, do this with me,’ Kate’s voice implored, but Eve shook her head.

  ‘I … I can’t. Please, Kate, don’t make me do this. She hates us.’

  Kate knelt down. ‘Eve. She doesn’t hate us, she’s sick. We need to help her, look after her, just as she did us as children.’ Their eyes locked, and silently, but reluctantly, they agreed and Kate held out her hand to grip Eve’s.

  Kate stepped back into the kitchen. ‘Mother, would you care to join us? I think you should, this concerns you too.’ Her mother quickly wiped her eyes with a tea towel, before smiling and following her daughters into the lounge.

  Her father pointed to the chesterfield, but Kate stayed standing. She paced up and down in front of him, whilst studying each piece of furniture in turn. It had all been at the old house and most had been in her father’s study, room she’d only ever been allowed to enter if there had been a need to discuss her school reports, her latest form of misbehaviour or the way she’d been fighting with one of her siblings. With a deep intake of breath, she turned and looked up, first at her father, then at Eve, and then at her mother, who had positioned herself on the settee opposite Father.

  ‘The accident,’ she finally spat out. She heard her mother gasp and Kate stared at her father, watched his reaction and hoped that he’d make the conversation easy. But Father was a master at concealing his emotions; being a barrister meant that his stern poker face had been practised to perfection. It was the trick of his trade, the one thing he could use to ensure that the opposing side found it difficult to read his thoughts. They couldn’t know what he was thinking, couldn’t know if he was happy with a defendant’s answer or not.

  ‘What about the accident, dear?’ His words were slow and clear. ‘I’m sure we’ve gone over this before,’ he spoke dismissively and Kate knew that this was the one subject that he hated talking about the most. She watched as he flicked an imaginary speck of dust from his perfectly clean shirtsleeve.

  ‘We all need help, Dad. Mum is sick.’ Kate knelt down and stared into her mother’s eyes. ‘Mum, James is dead, he’
s gone and he isn’t coming back.’ She waited for a reaction, but her mother just sat, quietly, staring at nothing in particular. ‘You blame me? You both blame me for his death, don’t you?’ The statement was direct and was meant to force a reaction. Kate knew that this was one of the only questions that neither her father nor her mother could wriggle out of.

  ‘I … I don’t think we do, dear. Now, why don’t you go and help with the dishes? I’m sure your mother would appreciate it.’ He looked at his wife who still sat, staring into space.

  ‘Mum, are you okay?’ Eve whispered, looking up at her twin. ‘Kate.’

  Kate was so busy studying her father, wondering if he knew that in one night she’d not only lost James, but she’d also lost both her mother and her father too, that she hadn’t noticed the tears that now fell silently down her mother’s cheeks. She hated herself for doing this, but knew that if the words were not said, right here, right now, nothing would change. Kate bowed her head. It was time they heard the truth.

  ‘The last thing I’d have ever wanted was for James to die. He was my big brother, my idol, I loved him,’ she began. ‘I didn’t drive the car that killed him.’

  ‘We know that.’ Her father wouldn’t meet her gaze, he just looked at the floor.

  Kate felt herself getting warmer. Her knees felt like jelly and they began to buckle beneath her. She looked around and moved toward the red leather chair where she perched, her hand gripping its edge, like a vice holding onto the wood. She couldn’t think of the words to use and tears began falling down her cheeks.

  ‘I … I can’t live like this, Daddy.’ She paused and gulped for breath. ‘Mother is sick, she doesn’t know what she’s saying half the time. She thinks that James has just stopped visiting. Everything she says is an insult, a dig, and I’m sure she needs professional help. You … you have to get her some, you can’t keep ignoring it.’ Again she paused and her eyes locked with his. ‘And you … you can’t keep blaming me either. I need you, Eve needs you and …’ She wiped her tears on the back of her hand.