The Art of Keeping Secrets

by Rachael Johns

  Yet the thought of putting herself out there again—having to meet men, go on dates and risk heartbreak all over again—left her in a cold sweat. Sure she could walk the walk and talk the talk, make jokes about men and sex, but it had been eighteen years since she’d played the dating game—not counting the few dismal dates she’d been on when Will was little. If only she had a different job, maybe she’d meet potential suitors at work, but in her line of business it was mostly women. The few men she dealt with were usually as camp as they come, fun to hang out with but not relationship (for her) material. She supposed she could try the online thing. Internet dating hadn’t been an option in her pre-Will days, but maybe it could be fun. Or terrifying!

  Deciding these thoughts were too complicated for the early hours of the morning, Neve sighed and felt along the wall for the light switch. She turned it on, shut the front door behind her and sauntered down the hallway to the kitchen. Although bed beckoned, her throat felt parched and she needed water.

  ‘Hi Mum.’

  At the sound of Will’s voice, she dropped her shoes and her bag, slamming a hand against her chest. Thanks to the moonlight shining in through the kitchen window, she could just make out a silhouette sitting at the kitchen table. ‘What are you doing home already? And why are you sitting in the dark?’ she demanded as she turned on the kitchen light. ‘You almost gave me a heart attack!’

  Her son looked back at her—every bit as tall, dark and handsome as his father had been—his expression thoughtful. Will shrugged; something was bothering him.

  ‘Are you okay? Did something happen at the ball?’ If Stacey had dumped him she’d kill the little tart.

  He shook his head and she wasn’t sure if that was a ‘no’ to being okay or a ‘no’ to something happening.

  Pulling out a chair and sitting opposite him, she leaned across to hold his hand. ‘I thought you were going to the afterparty?’

  He shrugged again and she tried a different tack. ‘You hungry? What was the food like at the Hyatt?’

  ‘It wasn’t bad. Stacey and I spent most of the night dancing.’

  Neve smiled. ‘That sounds like fun.’

  ‘It was all right. But yeah, I could go a midnight snack.’ As she got up to raid the fridge, he said, ‘Where’ve you been?’

  ‘We went back to Emma’s place, chatted for a bit, had a few drinks.’

  ‘You didn’t drive home, did you?’

  ‘No, of course not.’ Neve shook her head, smiling at the way Will looked out for her. Sometimes you’d think he was the parent. ‘Toby’s dad drove me. How’d you get home?’

  ‘Stacey’s dad dropped me off. She wasn’t allowed to go to the afterparty and I felt bad going without her.’

  ‘That was nice of you.’ Pride soared within her as she took a chocolate cake out of the fridge—her wonderful mother had dropped it round earlier in the day when she did her weekly clean of the house. Neve wouldn’t have made it through the last seventeen years without her parents—being a single mother had been a lot harder than she’d anticipated, even though Will was pretty much the perfect child.

  ‘Had things on my mind. Didn’t really feel in the mood for partying,’ Will admitted, and Neve’s heart skipped a beat. She thought of Emma’s announcement about Will’s classmate getting some girl pregnant and the evening’s champagne swirled in her stomach.

  ‘What’s up?’ She hoped her voice didn’t give away her anxiety as she sliced two pieces of cake—a large one for him and a sliver for her—and put them on plates. She laid the plates on the table and poured two glasses of milk.

  In many ways Neve and Will were closer than most mothers and sons because they were all the other had ever had, but she’d learnt over the years that he closed up if she pried too much.

  Hoping he couldn’t hear the thumping of her heart, she took a bite of her cake. If Stacey was pregnant, she’d stand by them both; none of this forcing them to get married. Granted she didn’t feel old enough to be a grandmother, but nor had she planned on being a single mum and that had turned out all right.

  Finally, after he’d almost devoured the cake, Will said, ‘I want to meet my dad.’

  Neve’s stomach sunk as if someone had dumped a brick inside it. If she wasn’t sitting down, she’d have no doubt fainted, yet her dizziness had nothing to do with alcohol intake or fatigue. She blinked. Maybe she’d imagined the announcement, finally envisaged the most alarming bombshell he could possibly drop.

  ‘I’m sorry, can you say that again?’ she asked, snatching up her glass and taking a gulp of milk like it was something much stronger.

  Will chuckled nervously. ‘Sorry… I meant to lead up to it or something, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I want to find my father. I want to meet him, hopefully get to know him.’

  Nope, her ears had heard perfectly well the first time. More’s the pity.

  ‘Well…’ Neve summoned the chirpiest smile she could. ‘What’s brought this on?’

  ‘It’s not something sudden,’ he confessed, staring down at his plate and pushing the last bit of cake around with his fork. ‘I’ve been thinking about him for a long time now. You said I looked like him, but I want to know him. I want to hear his voice, sit down and share a beer.’

  The first thought that came into Neve’s head was You’re too young for a beer. Of course she didn’t say it. Will not being the legal drinking age was the least of their problems.

  ‘O-kay,’ she said. Panic set her heart racing and she hoped he couldn’t see it on her face. ‘Right. Well. Lovely.’

  How the hell hadn’t she seen this coming? Hadn’t everyone always told her that boys needed their fathers? It was only natural for kids to want to know their parentage. Until thirty seconds ago, she’d disregarded this notion whenever anyone raised it. Will hadn’t suffered for being raised by a single mum. She’d watched action movies with him, played with cars instead of dolls, learnt to kick a footy. He’d found good friends and earned a scholarship to one of the most prestigious boys’ private schools in Western Australia. What exactly had he lacked?

  ‘Truth is, Mum, I’ve already started looking.’

  ‘Oh?’ Her heart clenched again as an icy chill washed through her—she didn’t know how many more surprises it could take.

  ‘Please don’t get all funny,’ Will gushed, leaning over the table and this time taking her hand. ‘It doesn’t change how I feel about you. You’ve always been the best mum ever, but … it’s like … it’s like I don’t know half of who I am. Remember that time I had to do a family tree in year nine and we made up James’s side because you, we, didn’t know anything of it?’

  Neve flinched at the way Will said his father’s name so casually, and an almost physical pain squeezed her chest at his heartfelt words. ‘I remember,’ she whispered and then somehow managed to ask, ‘So, what have you found out?’

  His face fell and he pushed his plate away from him with force. ‘Nothing. It’s like he doesn’t even exist.’

  She closed her eyes briefly, relieved that he didn’t know the truth. But guilt immediately followed at the lies she’d fed him over the years. Quick on its heels came the desire to protect her little boy. The desire to turn his downturned lips into a smile again. Putting her own needs and fears aside, she asked, ‘What exactly have you done so far?’

  He straightened. ‘I’ve searched James Clark on the internet. I even narrowed it down to James Clarks involved in theatre but there are literally hundreds of them on LinkedIn and Facebook and none of them look remotely like me.’

  That’s because his surname isn’t Clark. It’s Cooper.

  ‘I’ve contacted a few and they’ve all been really apologetic but none fit the mould.’

  ‘I wish you’d come to me earlier,’ Neve said. Over the years, Will had occasionally asked her about his father—usually near Fathers’ Day when he had to make a card for ‘dad’ at school—but although she’d told him snatches of the story, she’d sanitised the truth for
his young mind. ‘I could have helped.’

  He shrugged. ‘I didn’t want to hurt you. I know thinking about him makes you sad, but I think I do need your help. Have you any idea where he could be now?’

  Of course she had an idea, much more than an idea in fact. Even before Facebook she’d kept track of him through contacts and mutual acquaintances in the theatre industry. A couple of years ago she learned he’d moved from Melbourne to New York and was directing musicals on Broadway. Lucky bugger. How she’d kill to work on Broadway. But although she’d kept tabs on him like some mad stalker ex, she’d never once made contact. Not since walking away almost eighteen years ago.

  How could she after what she’d done?

  Since James’s move overseas, getting information had become much trickier; her contacts were all Aussie and didn’t have the same urge as she did to know his whereabouts. She’d googled of course, but Will was right, the internet gave a lot less information than most people believed. Although Neve still thought about him all the time, she’d decided this was fate’s way of telling her to finally let go.

  But perhaps she’d been wrong about fate.

  ‘I’m sorry, darling, I don’t have any idea.’ Somehow she kept her voice steady. ‘But if this is something you really want to do, how about you let me look into it? You shouldn’t be worrying about this during the most important year of your school career.’

  Hopefully he’d agree, which would give her time to work out what the hell to do. And she really didn’t want him wasting time that could be better spent.

  Will’s eyes widened and an optimistic smile spread across his face. ‘You’d do that for me?’

  ‘I’d do anything for you,’ she said, and it was true, even if the thought of facing James churned her stomach. ‘But I really do want you to concentrate on your studies for the next few months, so why don’t we agree to wait until your exams are over?’

  His face fell. ‘I can’t, Mum. It’s all I think about.’

  Neve tried not to frown. ‘Why now, sweetheart?’

  ‘It’s not just now,’ he said. ‘I told you. I’ve always thought about him, but I didn’t want to hurt you. I still don’t. But as you said, I’m in my final year at school and soon we’ll be having the graduation ceremony. Everyone else will have their dads there. I want mine too. I want to feel normal for a while.’

  Normal? She didn’t think there was such a thing as a normal family anymore. Besides Flick and Seb—but couples like them were few and far between. Still, she could tell Will wasn’t going to be swayed on this.

  ‘Okay. I get it,’ she whispered, swallowing a large gulp of air as she imagined herself and James sitting alongside each other at the Dayton year twelve graduation night later in the year. It was such a bizarre image that she had to smother a maniacal laugh. ‘It’s a lovely idea, wanting your father to see you graduate, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up.’

  ‘I won’t,’ he promised. ‘But if you mean it about helping, then you’ve got to keep me posted with your progress, okay? I want to know the minute you find him or any lead about where he might be. Don’t treat me like a baby. Don’t protect me from the truth. And please, don’t talk to him without me. Once you find him, can you let me handle it from there?’

  He sounded so grown up that Neve agreed without thinking, immediately regretting the promise. She noticed her hands were shaking to match the trepidation in her heart and just wanted to be alone a while to digest this news. ‘Now, if you’ve had enough to eat, don’t you think we should both be getting off to bed? We can talk more about this in the morning.’

  Truthfully she hoped this was a crazy dream, either that or Will would have forgotten this conversation or changed his mind by the morning. She wanted to bury her head right back in that sand.

  Will pushed back his chair and nodded. ‘I’ll clean up this mess first. You look exhausted. I’ll see you in the morning.’ Then he trekked around the table and leant over and hugged her. He’d never been shy about showing his affection, not even in public as he’d grown into a teenager, but this hug held greater meaning than any before. It was his silent message of thanks and it made her want to cry.

  As his head rested on her shoulder, she bit hard down on her lower lip. ‘Sweet dreams, my boy,’ she said, patting him on the back.

  ‘Thanks, Mum. You too.’ He pulled back and looked right into her eyes. ‘You’re the best, you know that?’ And with those words, he started collecting their plates and glasses from the table.

  Neve headed down the corridor to her bedroom on shaky legs. Once there, she went inside, closed the door behind her and flopped down on the bed.

  As a make-up artist, she knew the importance of cleansing her face every evening before bed. She’d never once gone to sleep without scrubbing off her make-up and applying all sorts of anti-aging creams, but there was a first time for everything.

  Although exhausted, she lay on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling, thinking of the promise she’d just made to Will.

  How the hell was she ever going to get any sleep now?

  Chapter Four

  Felicity

  ‘What are you doing?’ Flick woke up with a start, her face cool from the car window, as Seb attempted to lift her from the passenger seat. Somehow he’d opened the gate, driven through, parked the car in the carport and closed the gate again without disturbing her. Their border collie black Labrador cross, aptly named Dog by a much-younger Toby, danced at his feet in his usual excited welcome.

  Seb chuckled and smiled down at her. ‘Taking Sleeping Beauty to bed. Relax and go back to sleep, my love.’

  She shooed his hands away as he tried to get a grip on her. ‘I’m awake, I can walk myself.’

  Hurt flashed in Seb’s eyes at her irritated tone. ‘Sorry. I was just trying—’

  She sighed and put her hand out to touch his perfectly toned forearm. ‘I know. I’m sorry. It’s me, I’m in a funny mood tonight. Think it’s something to do with the realisation my babies are growing up. That soon they won’t need me anymore.’

  ‘Of course they’ll need you,’ he reassured, offering his hand to assist her out of the vehicle. ‘Just because Zoe’s getting married and Toby’s almost finished school, doesn’t mean you’ll suddenly become superfluous. If anything they’ll need you more as they navigate the highs and lows of adult life.’

  ‘I guess.’ Flick took his hand and Seb grabbed her bag and closed the door behind them. He beeped the car locked as they turned towards the house.

  ‘And,’ he began as he took hold of her elbow so she didn’t stumble over Dog or trip on the uneven garden path, ‘even if they don’t need you, I always will.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She squeezed his hand, hit with a sudden rush of love for him. Much as her friends’ insistence that he was some sort of Prince Charming irritated her, they were right; she was one of the lucky ones. ‘For always being my voice of reason and also for being so wonderful tonight and letting us spend some time with Emma. She’s not doing so well at the moment.’

  ‘I can hardly blame her. The way Max flaunts his new life in front of her face… well, it’s distasteful to say the least.’

  ‘I could honestly murder him sometimes. We talked about going on a girls’ trip tonight and she really needs the break, but even though she played along, I can tell she’d never go.’

  Seb opened the front door and Dog dashed inside. ‘That’s really tough. Maybe even a night away to a fancy hotel would give her a lift. She’s a travel agent. Perhaps she could arrange a discount through work?’

  Flick slipped off her uncomfortable heels and leaned forward to kiss him. ‘That’s a great idea.’

  He smiled. ‘And you know what else is a good idea? It’s starts with “b” and ends with “ed”.’

  ‘Yes.’ Flick yawned. ‘I can’t remember the last time I stayed up this late. I’m going to be paying for it for days.’

  ‘I bet Emma appreciated it though.’

  T
he two of them—married for what seemed like forever, but was in actual fact twenty-two years—headed down the hallway to their bedroom at the other end of the house and began their evening rituals. Usually if Toby were out overnight at a friend’s place, they’d make love and enjoy the quiet time together, but tonight Flick could barely find the energy to wash her face and get out of her cocktail dress.

  ‘What did you get up to this evening?’ she asked as she squeezed toothpaste onto her brush.

  They had a double vanity—his and her sinks—and she recognised Seb’s expression as she looked at it in the mirror. What a stupid question. As if Seb got up to anything else when he had the house all to himself. After more than two decades of marriage, she shouldn’t have been surprised—she’d accepted him for who he was, and they’d talked openly about it, but she’d never quite gotten used to his clandestine hobby.

  He picked up his own toothbrush. ‘Just messed about on the computer.’

  That was when she also noticed the tissues in the wastebasket—bright pink lips stamped onto them. She hadn’t even bothered with lipstick before she left the house, had hurriedly smeared some gloss across her lips as they parked in front of Max’s house.

  She spat into the sink, put down her toothbrush and wiped her mouth. ‘Buy anything?’

  He shook his head. ‘Just did a little window shopping.’ A slow smile spread across his face. ‘I may have taken a wrong turn on my way to the bathroom at Max’s place and somehow stumbled into Chanel’s walk-in robe. Oh my God, you should see how big it is—at least twice the size of this ensuite—and her dresses … I simply had to check out some of the designers online.’

  ‘You went into their bedroom?’ Flick couldn’t keep the horror from her voice. Her heart slammed against her chest at the thought of someone finding him in there. How would he have explained that one?