The Art of Keeping Secrets

by Rachael Johns

  Last night he’d tried to cuddle her in bed and his hands on her skin had felt like ants crawling all over her. She hated him for making her feel like that. Hated that he couldn’t be what she needed.

  ‘Please don’t.’ She held up her hand and met his gaze properly for the first time.

  ‘Don’t what?’ His voice cracked a little and he recoiled as if she’d slapped him.

  Flick closed her eyes and let out a long slow breath. ‘Pretend everything’s okay!’ she yelled. ‘You haven’t said a word about the letter since I showed it to you.’

  ‘But I thought you didn’t want to talk about all that yet?’

  ‘You know what I want, Seb?’ She thrust her finger at him like she were telling off a naughty child. ‘I want all that to go away. I want a normal husband.’ Tears threatened as the emotions that had been building up inside her bubbled to the surface, pushing to break free.

  ‘I’m sorry, Flick.’ He looked close to tears as well. They never fought.

  ‘I know. But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend our marriage is what everyone thinks it is when inside my heart is breaking. I told you I need time and I promise I’ll send you a message to say we got there safely but I need you to admit that your decision will change us in one way or another.’ She took a quick breath. ‘So please just go to work and let me pull myself together before Neve gets here.’

  ‘Okay.’ He nodded, his voice barely a whisper as he backed away.

  She could tell he wanted to hug her but was glad he resisted. He’d always been a touchy, feely, expressive type. Other women had often commented on his public displays of affection, but right now she wished he was a straightforward bloke who liked beer after work, football on the weekends and forgot to put the rubbish out when she asked him.

  ‘Have a good a trip then,’ Seb said, his voice tinged with sadness as he tightened the knot on his pale pink tie. Against his charcoal shirt and black pants, it looked stylish and not at all irregular. Real mean wear pink, or so the slogan went. She would never smile at that sentiment again.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘We’ll talk when I get back. Okay?’ Hopefully a week away from him, away from their home—where she was constantly reminded about the life they’d built together and the lie that lay beneath it all—would help her work out what she wanted.

  He nodded and then left the kitchen. A couple of minutes later she heard the front door shut and the car start.

  Flick glanced at her watch and was contemplating another coffee when her mobile rang. She looked around for the sound, located it near the microwave and frowned when she saw it was Emma’s boss. What was he calling for?

  ‘Morning, Patrick.’ She hoped he wasn’t calling with bad news.

  *

  They’d been planning to sneak into Emma’s house using the spare key she’d given Flick in case of an emergency, pack a suitcase for her and then drive by the travel agency to pick her up. But a spanner had been thrown into the works when Patrick called to say she’d phoned in sick.

  ‘What if she’s really sick?’ Neve said once Flick had filled her in on the situation. ‘Nothing worse than flying when you feel like shit.’

  ‘She won’t be. It’ll all be down to Max taking the kids away but I’m sure our arrival will cheer her up.’

  Neve tilted her head to one side, the sun glinting against her golden hair. ‘I wish I had your confidence. I think she might kill us.’

  Flick laughed, glad to be focusing on something other than Seb. ‘She doesn’t have it in her. She’s been threatening to kill Max for how long? And he’s still thieving valuable oxygen from the world.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  Flick nodded towards the street as a black stretch limousine pulled into her driveway. ‘Looks like our ride is here.’

  Neve’s hand flew to her chest as she stared at the black beast. Flick couldn’t help grinning at her friend’s incredulous expression.

  After a few seconds, Neve recovered enough to speak. ‘Are you serious? I thought Seb was driving us.’

  Flick shook her head as their driver—wearing an actual chauffeur’s cap—emerged from the vehicle and strode towards them. ‘He has to work.’

  The driver dipped his cap and smiled. ‘Ladies. I’m Gideon Blake. Pleased to be of service.’ He sounded so damn masculine and looked pretty fine in that uniform as well. Heck, even his name was hot. ‘Are you ready to go?’

  ‘We certainly are,’ Flick said as she gestured to their luggage on the front verandah.

  ‘Excellent.’ Gideon strode up the few steps and lifted Neve’s suitcase in one hand and Flick’s in the other.

  Flick tried to imagine this man in a dress. Nope, impossible. She silently cursed.

  It had crossed her mind this last week that if she and Seb were to break up, then she might one day venture again into that long-forgotten world of dating. That idea alone terrified her enough, but the worry that she’d never be able to look at another man without visualising him in a short skirt and F-me boots amplified her anxiety.

  ‘I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,’ Neve said as they followed Gideon with their carry-on luggage. ‘I can’t thank you enough for coming with me.’

  Flick shrugged. ‘That’s what friends do. You need our support. Em needs a holiday.’ And I need to escape! She decided not to bring up the recent awkwardness between Neve and Emma, nor her hope that some quality time together would help heal the cracks in their friendship.

  ‘Yes, shopping therapy!’ Neve’s eyes sparkled at the thought. ‘I can’t wait to see her face when we arrive.’

  As Emma lived nearby, they didn’t have to wait long. The limo had barely stopped in front of her house when Flick and Neve leapt out like a couple of excited teenagers, promising the driver they would be as quick as possible.

  ‘Take your time,’ Gideon said. ‘You don’t need to be at the airport for another two hours.’

  ‘Maybe not, but there’s a champagne bottle with our names on it waiting at the bar,’ Neve called over her shoulder.

  Flick grinned as they stopped at the front door. Yes, champagne was definitely on the agenda. ‘Do we knock or use my key, really surprise her?’

  ‘Let’s knock. We don’t want to give her a heart attack. She’s going to be shocked enough.’

  ‘Good point.’ Flick raised her hand and rapped on the door. They waited, both silent as they listened for sounds of Emma approaching. Nothing. They frowned at each other and Flick was about to knock again when the door finally opened a fraction.

  Emma peered around it, her eyes bloodshot and her lids puffy. ‘What are you two doing here?’ she asked.

  Chapter Twenty

  Emma

  ‘Surprise!’ Flick and Neve sang in unison. The sound grated on Emma’s headache—one she attributed to the two litres of ice-cream she’d scoffed in about fifteen minutes. All she could think about was that her friends should be on their way to New York. She opened the door fully.

  Her confusion must have shown in her face because they exchanged glances and then Neve, looking as if she were about to wet her very fashionable pants, said, ‘You tell her.’

  Grinning as if nothing could wipe the smile from her face, Flick reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. She unfolded it and thrust it towards Emma. ‘Time to get ready, sunshine. You’re coming to New York with us!’

  Neve clapped her hands as Emma stared down at the paper. ‘What?’

  ‘Not quite the reaction we were hoping for,’ Flick said, ‘but you can get used to the idea while we pack your bags.’

  Before Emma could work out what was going on, her friends barged past her into the house and down the corridor towards her bedroom.

  Too bamboozled to worry about the state of her bedroom, she looked properly at the piece of paper, which appeared to be an e-ticket with her name on it. Plane departing four hours from now. Her fingers trembled and she shook her head.

  ‘No, no, n
o, no, no,’ she called as her legs unfroze and she hurried after Flick and Neve. ‘I can’t just up and go to New York.’

  ‘Yes, you can,’ Flick said with conviction as she and Neve disappeared into the walk-in robe.

  ‘Do you have an empty suitcase?’ Neve asked. ‘We can’t dillydally or we won’t be able to enjoy our pre-flight champagne.’

  Ignoring Neve’s question, Emma crossed her arms and stood at the entrance to the walk-in-robe. ‘I can’t just take time off work.’

  ‘Actually, you can,’ Flick said, barely looking up from where she was rifling through clothes. ‘We’ve cleared everything with your lovely boss. He thinks you deserve a break as much as we do.’

  At the mention of Patrick, her chest tightened. ‘Patrick is in on this?’

  ‘Yep.’ Her friends nodded and smiled. ‘He even booked the flights for me. You can call him and check if you like but he told us to tell you to have fun and not to worry about anything. He’s got a casual filling in for you from one of the other agencies. Oh, and he’ll pay you as if you were still at work, so you don’t lose your holiday allocation. He’s quite a sweetie.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He sounds like a great boss,’ Neve said. ‘Is he single?’

  Emma’s head was spinning. Having to farewell the kids and then these two showing up out of the blue had almost made her forget her recent annoyance with Neve, but this comment brought it right back. She was about to tell her that she didn’t think she was his type when Flick cut in.

  ‘Look, I don’t mean to interrupt the chitchat but we really need to get onto this.’

  It took Emma a moment to understand and then her confusion and shock returned in full. ‘You’ve really cleared this with Patrick? And what about my visa? You can’t go to the US without an ESTA.’

  ‘Relax,’ Neve said. ‘Flick’s organised everything. She’s the only person I know who could organise another person’s global travel without that person getting even a teensy bit suspicious.’

  Emma opened her mouth to say something but found she had no idea what she wanted to say. She stepped back a few feet and flopped into the cute armchair she’d found at a garage sale and reupholstered herself back when she’d had time to do such things. She stared ahead at her unmade bed, too stunned to feel embarrassed by the discarded tissues scattered across it and the empty ice-cream carton on her bedside table.

  ‘I can’t afford this.’

  ‘But I can.’ Flick smiled. ‘Consider it a present for putting up with me for so long.’

  Emma rolled her eyes. ‘As if that’s a hardship. But seriously, I can’t let you do that. What does Seb think about you spending this money on me?’

  Flick shrugged one shoulder. ‘He doesn’t know. Anyway, I’ve worked hard for our savings as well. I can splurge when I want to.’

  There was a defensive edge in her voice and for a moment Emma wondered whether something wasn’t quite right between Flick and Seb. But she pushed that thought aside almost immediately—it was like imagining that bread and butter no longer worked together. She didn’t know another couple as perfect as Flick and Seb.

  ‘I know this is a lot to take in.’ Flick crossed over and perched on the arm of the chair and patted Emma’s knee. ‘But why don’t you take a shower, freshen up and Neve and I will handle the packing?’

  ‘I can’t believe this,’ Emma whispered, her senses slowly beginning to recover. ‘Are we really going to New York?’

  ‘You betcha,’ Neve called from where she was selecting clothes.

  ‘Call it serendipity,’ Flick said. ‘Neve going away at the same time you’re kid-free, just when we’d been talking about how much fun it would be to have a holiday together. Who are we to ignore such blatant signs?’

  Emma shrugged. She was starting to come round to the idea. ‘When you put it like that …’ A rush of adrenaline zipped through her and the first real smile she’d felt in a long time lifted her lips. ‘Okay then, New York here we come!’

  The others cheered and ushered her into the bathroom before she could change her mind. As the door shut behind her, she stared into the mirror. Is this some kind of wonderful dream?

  No. If this were a dream, she wouldn’t be looking this tragic.

  She put her fingers to her puffy eyes and then glared at her red, blotchy face and her hair, which was doing a good imitation of a bird’s nest. And was that dried ice-cream on her chin?

  Ugh. She shuddered. Perhaps this was exactly what she needed—some time out with her friends. A week of shopping, cocktails and sightseeing to de-stress from the grind of everyday life. To remind her she wasn’t just a mum, ex-wife and employee, but a woman who needed to take better care of herself.

  She opened the medicine cabinet and retrieved a couple of painkillers. She swallowed them dry, then stripped naked and jumped into the shower.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Felicity

  After standing next to the luggage carousels at JFK airport for what felt like an inordinate period of time, Flick and the girls finally emerged from the building into the hustle and bustle of people and traffic. Every second vehicle seemed to be beeping its horn and there were sirens in the distance in all directions.

  ‘Cabs are that way.’ Emma dragged her sunglasses down over her eyes and pointed across to their right, reminding Flick that she was the only one of them who’d been to New York before.

  ‘Whose idea was it to travel all this way without a stopover?’ Neve groaned as they navigated through the throng of other passengers towards the taxi rank. ‘I feel like a walking corpse.’

  ‘Yes, I’d definitely have recommended a stopover in LA,’ Emma said. ‘Or I’d have gone via Dubai, it’s much shorter.’

  ‘If I recall correctly you were too busy to help me,’ Neve replied snippily.

  ‘Girls, please, enough already.’ Flick pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead as they joined the back of the queue. Drinking the lion’s share of a bottle of champagne at Perth airport had seemed like a good idea at the time, as had accepting the complimentary wine with her in-flight meals, but her body was punishing her now. The last thing she needed was Emma and Neve bickering like a couple of schoolgirls. After more than thirty hours in transit with next to no proper sleep, her patience was wearing thin. She had hoped they’d make an effort to be civil and that Emma would chill out and get over her disappointment with Neve’s affair.

  ‘What shall we have for dinner?’ Neve said after a while.

  ‘Know anywhere good?’ Flick asked Emma.

  ‘Around Times Square?’ She shrugged. ‘I’ve heard John’s Pizzeria is good, although to be honest, I’m so shattered I’d rather get room service and eat it in bed.’

  Neve inclined her head. ‘I’m all for that idea. We can eat, shower and then hopefully fall asleep at a reasonable New York hour.’

  Flick’s stomach rumbled; it didn’t care what she ate as long as she washed it down with water instead of wine. ‘Sounds perfect. And if John’s is good, maybe we can go there tomorrow before Mamma Mia?’

  The colour drained from Neve’s face and she visibly shuddered as they shuffled closer to the front of the queue. ‘Actually I’m not really that hungry anymore.’

  Just as Flick had been trying to push her problems with Seb to the back of her mind, she guessed Neve was trying not to think about the main reason they were in New York.

  ‘Have you worked out what you’re going to say to him yet?’ Emma asked.

  Neve’s complexion went from pale to green in a matter of seconds. ‘Can we talk about something else? Anything else?’

  ‘How about those cute firemen over there?’ Flick pointed to an enormous fire truck parked about ten metres up the road; three buff guys in black and yellow uniforms were leaning against it, seemingly in no rush to go anywhere. Masculinity oozed from their stances. She would bet none of them had a fetish for female fashion.

  Emma chuckled slightly. ‘I think we’re a little old to
ogle firemen.’

  ‘Speak for yourself.’ Neve grabbed her phone and snapped a couple of photos.

  One of the firemen waved and, as Neve and Flick waved back, Emma mused, ‘I don’t think that one’s much older than Will, Caleb and Toby.’

  ‘Geez, way to spoil a girl’s fun.’ Neve tucked her phone back in her handbag. ‘Look, it’s almost our turn.’

  Sure enough, while they’d been scoping out the local talent, they’d made it to the front of the cab line. The elderly couple in front of them stepped forward to await their yellow cab, and a man that seemed to be in charge of everything smiled. ‘Where you lovely ladies from?’

  ‘Australia,’ Flick volunteered.

  He made a face. ‘Heard you have some big mother-effing spiders down there. Where are you all going?’

  ‘The Marriot Times Square,’ Neve supplied. The man punched something into a little machine, then tore off some kind of receipt and gave it to them.

  Emma took it. ‘Thanks.’ She explained to the others that it had their taxi driver’s details and the price of the trip on it. Then she pointed to a yellow car as it crawled to a stop alongside the kerb and a driver who looked like he lived and breathed McDonald’s stepped out to greet them.

  ‘Hey girls,’ he said, grinning as he ran a hand through his greasy red hair and gave the three of them a pervy once over. ‘Looks like it’s my lucky day.’

  Flick couldn’t hide her distaste.

  ‘Let’s not get excited,’ Neve said dryly. ‘But you can help us with our bags.’

  While Ronald McDonald’s overweight twin struggled with their cases, the women squashed into the back seat. The cab smelt like takeaway food and had TV screens blaring on the back of both the passenger and driver seats.

  ‘Oh my God,’ Emma squealed, snapping Flick’s attention away from the TVs. ‘I can’t believe we’re actually here. It’s like a dream. I can’t believe you guys kidnapped me and whisked me away to New York.’

  ‘You know,’ Neve began with a smile, ‘we really didn’t have to twist your arm too much.’