How to Keep a Secret

by Sarah Morgan

  Nancy flicked through. “I don’t have the funds for anything this elaborate.”

  “I’ve looked at the costs and I think we can make it work.” Lauren’s cheeks were flushed. “I’ve become something of an expert on managing money lately. I had a baptism of fire. Providing we can rent the place for the whole summer season, we can make a profit. Enough for you to live on in the winter, although I have ideas for that, too. And what I have in mind isn’t going to cost that much. But it would require you to go to work with your paintbrush.”

  Jenna wondered if that plan was really about cost saving, or whether her sister was trying to get their mother to paint again.

  “Where are we going to find someone to rent it? Are we going to list it with someone on the island? Won’t we need a website?”

  Lauren retrieved her phone. “Yes, and that’s one of the things I can’t do myself.”

  “I could do it,” Mack said. “I could build a website if you tell me what you want it to do.”

  Jenna could almost feel her sister’s mood lift.

  “That would be great. Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I’ll figure it out.” Mack toyed with the bread on her plate. “Maybe I’ll join the Coding Club at school. Someone there would probably be able to help me.”

  Lauren nodded. “That sounds great. Thank you.”

  “It’s probably suicide, but everyone’s got to die, right?” She flushed. “Sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “It’s okay.” Lauren stretched out her hand and squeezed Mack’s. “I don’t want you to feel you have to watch what you say.”

  Jenna wished she’d watched what she said.

  She glanced toward the kitchen, wondered why Greg was taking so long. “If this works and you rent it out for the summer, you still won’t have anywhere to live.”

  Lauren let go of Mack’s hand. “There is somewhere, but I don’t know how you’re going to feel about it.”

  Nancy sat up straighter. “Go on.”

  “The Sail Loft.” Lauren passed another mood board across the table. “We could live there.”

  Jenna was relieved she didn’t have food in her mouth at that moment because she would have choked.

  The Sail Loft?

  Lauren met her gaze and then looked away again. Color streaked across her cheeks, but her chin angled in a way that told Jenna she wasn’t going to be dissuaded.

  “There are only two bedrooms.” Jenna tried logic first.

  “Yes, but the master is huge. I’ve thought about the space and it would be easy to build a partition and divide the room into two, temporarily at least. It would be small, but I think it would work.”

  Jenna wondered why she felt sick. It wasn’t as if she was going to be the one living there.

  “Why not use the top floor?”

  “Because it’s Mom’s studio. She needs it for when she starts painting again.”

  She was making an assumption, Jenna thought. “When” not “if.”

  Nancy frowned. “I haven’t been there since your father died.” Her voice sounded strange. “The place could be flooded for all I know.”

  Jenna knew her mother hadn’t painted, but she hadn’t known that she’d stayed away from the Sail Loft.

  “I wish you’d told me. I could have supported you.”

  “You’re supporting me now.”

  “Yes.” And it would mean she’d have to go back to the Sail Loft. She’d have to walk up that path and look through that window.

  “And I couldn’t have told you without telling you everything else.” Nancy sent a glance in Mack’s direction.

  “Anything you have to say, you can say in front of Mack,” Lauren said.

  Nancy looked unconvinced. “I’m not sure if I think it’s appropriate to—”

  “Mom—” Lauren’s tone was sharp “—we’ve all tried the approach where we keep things to ourselves to protect each other, and where has that gotten us? From now on everything is out in the open and we’ll deal with it together.”

  Jenna knew Lauren was still getting calls from London about Ed’s estate. Each time she’d come away several shades paler.

  She knew her sister had been hoping Ed had some money put aside that she didn’t know about, but so far there had been no good news.

  Nancy glanced between them. “You have no idea how much I wish you’d told me you knew about your father.”

  “We only saw him that one time,” Lauren said. “We had no idea he did it more than once.”

  Once had been enough, Jenna thought. “Could we get rid of the honeysuckle? I can’t stand honeysuckle.”

  Her mother gave her a steady look. “I’ve been thinking of doing it for a while. It’s invasive and competes with native plants. It will be the first thing to go.”

  “Wait a minute—” Mack stared. “Gramps had an affair and you saw him?” Her expression was so comical it even made Jenna smile.

  “At the time I thought adults only did it to have babies. For a while I was worried I was going to get a baby sister.” It was the first time she’d ever joked about it and it might have felt like a step forward if Greg hadn’t chosen that moment to walk back into the room with the main course.

  He was the only one who didn’t join in the awkward laughter.

  The look on his face made Jenna uneasy. Greg was the master of his emotions but right now he didn’t seem to be doing so well.

  Mack shuddered and Nancy shook her head.

  “It’s a wonder the two of you weren’t put off sex for life. I hate to think of you girls in that position. Of course if Jenna had been a little less adventurous, instead of always leading you into trouble—” Nancy’s gaze shifted to Jenna and Lauren stood up to help serve the casserole.

  “It wasn’t Jenna, it was me.”

  Nancy looked confused. “You were by her side whatever she did, Lauren. I knew I could trust you never to leave her, however adventurous she was.”

  “She wasn’t,” Lauren said. “I was the adventurous one.”

  It seems so long ago, Jenna thought. She hadn’t seen that side of her sister for a long time. Not since she’d left home.

  From the moment she’d moved to London, Lauren had been transformed.

  It was as if she’d been determined to stamp out her former wild self.

  “You reinvented yourself,” she said and Lauren handed her a plate.

  “I guess my last adventure was getting pregnant, and that scared me. It’s pretty sobering to realize you’re in charge of another life.”

  “Wait—” Nancy’s voice was faint. “I always thought it was Jenna. I thought you were protecting her.”

  Lauren shook her head. “The times we went skinny dipping at night, when we jumped off the Jaws Bridge, when we crept to your studio the night we saw Dad—all me. I was the ringleader. And I didn’t protect her, she protected me.”

  “My nerves were continually shredded,” Jenna confessed.

  Mack was staring at her mother. “You went skinny dipping? Like, no clothes?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you jumped off the Jaws Bridge? You always tell me not to do that!”

  “Which makes me a raging hypocrite, I know. My only excuse is that I have firsthand knowledge of how much trouble teenagers can get themselves into. There’s a part of your brain that doesn’t make great decisions.”

  “Yeah,” Mack muttered, “I think I already found that part.”

  Nancy looked stunned. “I can’t believe I got it so wrong.”

  “I wasn’t exactly a saint,” Jenna said. “I was pretty accident-prone. The paint incident really was me.”

  “And the goat,” Lauren said.

  Jenna frowned. “The goat was you. You felt sorry for it. You thought it should be liberated from that post where it was teth
ered all day.”

  Mack choked. “The story about the sisters and the goat is true? I thought it was made-up?”

  “I thought it was made-up, too.” Nancy shook her head. “I can’t believe I didn’t know this about my own daughter.”

  “Mothers never know everything about their daughters,” Mack said kindly. “Don’t beat yourself up, Grams. And there are some things you’re better off not knowing.”

  Was that true?

  Jenna glanced at Greg, but he wasn’t looking at her.

  She had a feeling he didn’t agree.

  23

  Nancy

  Purge: to get rid of undesirable things

  “Thank you for coming with me.” Nancy stood on the overgrown path in front of the Sail Loft.

  She really didn’t want to be here.

  Behind her she could hear the sea. Now, in March, the unloved garden was a wilderness, but she could see the possibilities.

  “It’s what friends are for. I can’t believe you haven’t been here in five years, and I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” Alice put her hand on Nancy’s arm.

  “After Tom died something changed for me. I suppose I turned away from the life I had when he was alive.”

  “I understand. You don’t have to go inside, Nancy. Tell them you don’t want to. Come and live with me instead.”

  That was out of the question, but the suggestion gave her the strength she needed. “I have to do this. Lauren is right, it makes sense.”

  “Not if it upsets you.”

  How much should she say? “If it means I don’t have to sell The Captain’s House, then it’s worth it.” Why hadn’t she considered this option herself? Because she was a coward. “My daughters are smart, both of them.”

  And brave.

  She couldn’t bear to think what they probably saw that night. Damn Tom and his libertine ways.

  Alice was staring at the Sail Loft in silence. “Are you sure about this?”

  Nancy paused. “Anyone would think you didn’t want to go inside.”

  Alice gave a wan smile. “I hate seeing you hurt, that’s all.”

  Nancy patted her on the shoulder and walked ahead. She could have done this on her own, but inviting Alice had been the right thing to do.

  If she was really going to move forward, then she needed Alice here.

  The key didn’t turn easily in the lock, but whether that was because it was rusty from lack of use or because her hand was shaking, she wasn’t sure.

  Finally she unlocked the door and pushed it open.

  The shutters were closed and the place smelled of dust and paint, although how it could still smell of paint after so long she had no idea. Dust sheets covered the sofas and there was a lace of cobwebs high on the ceiling. Other than that not much had changed.

  An image appeared in her head, disturbingly clear.

  She saw Tom, leaning over a dazzled woman, his laughing blue eyes charming her the way he’d charmed Nancy. Had he made promises? Had he lied? Or had he told her that this was the way he was, that he did this with everyone and that although she might feel special now, he would have forgotten her by tomorrow?

  She turned and saw Alice sitting on the dusty sofa. “Alice? Are you all right?”

  Alice stood up suddenly. “I’m worried about you. Let’s leave right now.”

  “We only just got here. Why would we leave?”

  Alice’s eyes filled. “You’re my dearest friend. I hate to see you putting yourself through this.”

  Nancy felt something stir inside her.

  She made a decision.

  “Let’s clear him out, Alice. We’ll do it together.” It was time to get rid of the man, starting with his things. Nancy walked through to one of the bedrooms and pulled out a box of Tom’s things. “We should sort through this.”

  There was a box of his clothes tucked in the spare room and she dragged it out and flung it into the garden. The feeling of satisfaction was astonishing. It was like shooting adrenaline into a vein.

  Alice flinched as if she’d been struck. “Don’t you want to sort through them? There might be things here you want to keep.” She walked into the garden and retrieved a jacket that had spilled onto the overgrown grass. “Are you sure this is the right thing to do? Don’t you want to hold on to a few memories?”

  Nancy wished she could rid herself of the memories as easily as she could rid herself of his clothes. “That’s a jacket, and it’s taking up space. He’s gone, Alice. Keeping his clothes isn’t going to change that.”

  She flung open shutters and windows, letting in sea air. The breeze flowed through the rooms, sending a few stray pieces of paper fluttering across the dusty floor.

  Today the sky was blue with a promise of summer and she remembered how much she’d once loved being here, in her beach sanctuary.

  Why should Tom continue to contaminate a place that had once been special to her?

  She was going to strip the whole place back until it was an empty shell, and then she’d build it up again the way she wanted it.

  Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a scarf and tied it around her hair to protect herself from dust and cobwebs. Then she got to work.

  She emptied cupboards, flung clothes into bags and tipped away the contents of drawers. She moved through the rooms like a whirlwind, with Alice shadowing her like a startled rabbit saying things like, “Nancy, are you sure?” and “You’re really throwing this away?”

  Nancy continued to pile things in the garden.

  When the ground floor was finally empty, she rolled up her sleeves and reached for the bag she’d brought with her. It was going to take more than a bucket of bleach to get Tom out of her life, but at least it was a start.

  Cleaning turned out to be therapeutic. She scrubbed and rubbed until sweat clung to her body.

  She was aware of Alice next to her, dusting surfaces and shaking out rugs in the garden.

  She threw out the old mattresses and scrubbed the floor and the walls.

  They needed painting. Maybe she could do that. She hadn’t painted for five years, but a wall was different, wasn’t it?

  Finally, when the downstairs rooms were as clean as she could make them, Nancy turned her attention to the top floor.

  She’d bought the place for the upstairs studio, with its acres of glass and north light. That was all that had ever interested her. If there had been a whole football team living in the downstairs bedrooms she wouldn’t have known. That must have been where the girls saw Tom if they’d been peeping through the window. What a stupid man he was for not closing the shutters before he did the deed.

  Still, at least it meant her precious studio remained uncontaminated.

  She took the stairs slowly, almost afraid to reach the top. The first time she’d seen the place she’d gasped aloud and then realized that the Realtor didn’t seem to know what a gem he had on his hands. Because she didn’t want him to push up the price, she’d muttered a lot about rotten rafters and the number of dead mice and then made him a low offer. The previous owner had died, and fortunately the family were keen for a quick sale.

  Now, of course, it would be a different matter. Land this close to the beach was at a premium.

  The moment Nancy stepped out onto the wide floor boards she felt the same rush of excitement she’d felt when she first saw the place. How could she have stayed away so long? She felt as if she’d neglected a friend.

  I’m sorry I abandoned you.

  No one had touched the place since her last visit. There was her kettle, still perched on the table in one corner where she’d left it alongside half a jar of coffee, the contents of which had solidified. When she was painting she’d gone hours without taking a break, oblivious to the world around her. She’d finish when the light started to fade and then she’d make
herself a drink and sit in the garden on her favorite rickety chair and listen to the sea.

  The tide came and went, washing away the debris from the previous day and depositing more, licking at the sand, changing the shape of the landscape.

  She imagined herself as the tide, washing Tom out of her life. It was a surprisingly satisfying exercise.

  Alice had followed her upstairs but Nancy ignored her, lost in the moment.

  Her footsteps echoed as she walked the length of her studio. This room soared up into the rafters, giving a feeling of space and light. She glanced up, checking the place was still fundamentally sound. There were no signs of water damage. No ominous stains on the wall that might have suggested a deeper problem.

  Her paints were where she’d left them. She checked them and saw that although some of the watercolors had dried up, the oil paints were fine.

  Now, with distance, she could barely remember that burning desire and elemental excitement that had driven her to put paint on canvas.

  The fire was gone and there was no longer a need to escape, so what reason was there to pick up a brush?

  She heard the sound of an engine and then the slam of a car door and female laughter.

  Lauren and Jenna.

  Jenna had been teaching, and Lauren had spent the day scouring the island for bits and pieces that she could use to transform the house.

  Nancy moved closer to the glass and watched as they walked together up the overgrown path. She saw Lauren pause to point something out and Jenna nod in agreement.

  Sisters.

  Would life have been easier if she’d had a sister? It would have been good to have someone to share things with. Someone you could trust no matter what. Someone by your side through thick and thin.

  She’d been wrong to worry about her children so much. They had each other, and they always had. Who would have guessed that it had been Lauren who was the ringleader? The adventurous one?

  Did you know that, Tom?

  She was certain that he hadn’t known. He’d spent his life thinking about himself.

  She saw them pause in the doorway, as if they were afraid to enter.

  Jenna said something and Lauren pulled a face. Then she took her sister’s hand and they vanished from view as they stepped into the house.