The Art of Keeping Secrets

by Rachael Johns

  While others around them hurried off to the bathroom or the bar during intermission, Emma, Flick and Neve stayed in their seats. The second half of the show enthralled everyone as much as the first and there were sighs of satisfaction and disappointment when the actors danced and sung their final encore.

  ‘Wow, that was awesome,’ Emma said as people around them started to stand and stagger up the aisles towards the exit. ‘I think I’ll have an ABBA earworm for days.’

  ‘Me too,’ Flick agreed. ‘We should get matching Mamma Mia! t-shirts.’

  ‘Can you two stop talking as if this is a normal night out at the theatre?’ Neve’s voice cracked on the last word and Emma noticed her whole body shaking.

  ‘Sorry,’ Emma said. ‘Do you know how we can find … him?’

  ‘I could probably sneak backstage, but there’s the risk someone might throw me out before I’ve seen him. I think I’ll ask at the box office.’

  ‘Good plan.’

  Flick and Emma stood but Neve didn’t make a move.

  ‘Or maybe one of you guys could find him and tell him for me?’ she asked.

  Emma glared at her. Did she really think that was an option?

  ‘Come on.’ Flick grabbed Neve and dragged her to her feet. ‘We’ve come a long way for you to do this and we’d be shite friends if we didn’t make you follow through.’

  Following Flick’s lead, Emma took Neve’s other hand and started towards the aisle, pulling her along behind with Flick bringing up the rear. The audience had thinned out with only themselves and a few other stragglers lingering. Just as they exited the theatre, the woman behind the little window in the box office switched off the light.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Emma called loudly, soliciting the attention of everyone who remained.

  The woman looked up and frowned as they approached. ‘Can I help you?’

  Emma and Flick looked to Neve but she remained mute.

  Flick finally spoke for her. ‘We’re hoping to catch James Cooper.’ When Ticket Girl stared blankly at them, she elaborated. ‘He’s one of the directors.’

  ‘I know who he is.’ The girl rolled her eyes. ‘Who wants to see him?’

  Neve thrust her shoulders back, held her chin high and found her voice. ‘I do. My name is Genevieve Turner. James and I were colleagues in Australia and he said to look him up if I was ever in town.’

  The lie rolled from Neve’s tongue and Emma found herself impressed rather than appalled.

  ‘Did he?’ The woman spoke only to Neve now, still sounding sceptical.

  ‘Yes. He did.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, but today is James’s night off. He’ll be here tomorrow night if you want to come back.’

  ‘Oh.’ Neve’s face fell, her bravado exiting stage right.

  Emma and Flick exchanged twin expressions of disappointment. How on earth were they going to get through another day of Neve in mental meltdown mode?

  Ticket Girl sighed. ‘Look, I can give you guys cheap tickets for tomorrow night if you like. Crap seats though.’

  ‘We’ll take them.’ Flick’s hand shot to her handbag.

  ‘No.’ Neve held a hand up as she shook her head. ‘You guys don’t have to sit through all this again.’ She looked to the woman behind the window. ‘Just one ticket please.’

  ‘You sure?’ Flick asked.

  ‘Yes?’ Emma added. She’d happily watch Mamma Mia! on Broadway a hundred more times in the name of friendship and support.

  Neve nodded, retrieving her purse and handing over her credit card. ‘Tonight was stressful enough. And no offence guys, but I think you being here only magnifies my panic.’

  The young woman cleared her throat, eying them warily. ‘Is there a problem?’

  ‘No, no problem at all.’ Neve snatched the ticket and credit card back and shoved them in her bag, all the while glaring a warning at Emma and Flick. They’d been friends long enough that they could communicate without actual conversation and they got the message loud and clear: Zip your lips if you don’t want me to lose this chance.

  They thanked the woman for her help and then escaped onto the street—still abuzz with people. Neve half-sighed, half-laughed. ‘What a letdown.’

  Flick pointed a finger at her. ‘You realise if you chicken out tomorrow, we’ll make you follow through the next night.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Neve promised. ‘I reckon James not being here tonight is a blessing.’

  ‘How so?’ Emma asked.

  ‘Well, you may have noticed I’ve been a bit of a nervous wreck…’

  ‘No way!’ Flick exclaimed. ‘Have you?’

  Neve smiled, looking more relaxed than she had since they’d landed at JFK. ‘I think this is fate’s way of getting all my nerves out of the way before we actually meet. I know I’ve been anxious, but I’ve also been terribly excited at the prospect of making things right, for Will. Finding out that wasn’t going to happen tonight was such a huge disappointment that now there’s only room for anticipation.’

  Emma couldn’t tell if Neve truly felt this way or simply wanted to get them off her back. But she didn’t want to stand out here on the sidewalk all night arguing over it. The painkillers were wearing off and she just wanted to crawl into bed, go to sleep and dream of Mamma Mia!

  ‘Okay, if you’re sure,’ Flick said. ‘I guess Emma and I will find something to occupy ourselves.’

  Emma nodded. ‘This is New York after all.’

  ‘Thanks guys.’ Neve smiled and pulled them both into a group hug. ‘You two are the best, you know that? I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

  ‘Get a room,’ yelled some guys staggering past.

  ‘We have one,’ Flick retorted.

  The women laughed.

  ‘Shall we go to the bar for a nightcap?’ Neve suggested as they began walking in the direction of the hotel.

  Emma groaned inwardly, but she didn’t want to be a killjoy. ‘Okay, maybe just one drink,’ she agreed.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Felicity

  The moment the elevator doors opened onto the lobby level, Flick and her friends were hit with the loud buzz of many people chattering. They followed the noise to the hotel bar to find it full of businessmen, with only a few power-dressed women to be seen in the sea of dark suits.

  ‘Must be some sort of conference,’ she observed.

  Emma gaped at the crowd like it was a school of piranhas and took a step backwards. ‘Maybe we should just order room service.’

  Neve pulled a face. ‘You don’t drink cocktails in a hotel room!’

  ‘She’s right.’ Flick grabbed hold of Emma’s hand. ‘Come on. We’re not going to let a few tipsy blokes ruin our fun.’

  With Neve leading the way and Flick still holding onto Emma, they wound their way through the bodies towards the bar, catching snatches of conversation.

  Emma squealed and Flick stopped to glance behind her. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Her eyes were wide in horror. ‘I think I just got groped,’ she hissed.

  Flick laughed. ‘It might be your lucky night.’

  Emma scowled but there was a sparkle in her eyes that made Flick’s heart sing. Despite the headaches that were plaguing her friend, Emma had smiled more today than she had in the last few months. Flick could already feel this trip working its magic on her and she hoped it would help give her some clarity of mind as well. Seb had sent her another text this morning, but she wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to say to him yet.

  At the bar, Neve pushed between two men to place their order. ‘Shuffle over guys,’ she said to the blokes on either side of her. ‘Make room for my friends.’

  Grinning, the men did as they were told—Neve had that kind of effect—and Flick and Emma settled themselves, leaning against the bar. No chance of scoring a seat in this crowd, but at least they’d have somewhere to stand while they drank their drinks.

  ‘I ordered three cosmopolitans,’ Neve told them. ‘We can do manhattans
next.’

  ‘Sounds good, but are you sure you’re okay? You know … after tonight?’ Flick felt as if Neve had undergone a personality transplant in the last half hour—she’d gone from nervous wreck to wanting to party in a matter of minutes.

  Neve’s smile was wide but perhaps a little forced. ‘Of course I am. Life doesn’t always go to plan,’ she said as three pink-filled martini glasses landed on the bar in front of them, ‘but I’m adaptable.’ She picked up glass and took a sip. ‘Mmm, it’s good. Drink up, ladies.’

  As this wasn’t the place for a deep and meaningful conversation, Flick decided the supportive thing would be to do as Neve asked. ‘What shall we do tomorrow?’

  ‘Let’s go to Central Park,’ Emma suggested, rubbing her forehead as Flick took the first sip of her cosmo.

  ‘Have you got another headache?’ Flick asked, twirling the straw between her fingers.

  Emma shrugged. ‘Just a little one. Think it’s the noise and the jet lag.’

  ‘Do you need a painkiller or something?’ Neve popped her drink on the bar and put her hand on her shoulder bag. ‘I’m sure I have a packet in here somewhere.’

  ‘It’s fine, I’ve already had one.’

  One? Flick had lost count of the number of pills Emma had popped since they’d left Perth—and that was only the ones she’d seen. Could Emma have some sort of addiction? She was genuinely worried but didn’t know how to broach the subject without offending her and ruining their trip.

  ‘Well, let me know if you need any,’ Neve said, picking up her drink again. ‘Now. Where were we? Central Park. Can we go on one of those horse and carriage rides?’

  Flick laughed.

  ‘What?’ Neve exclaimed. ‘I’ve always wanted to be driven around in a horse and carriage, ever since Mum read me Cinderella when I was little.’

  ‘It’s a good way to see the park,’ Emma said, glass in hand even though she hadn’t yet taken a sip. ‘And Flick wanted to see the Museum of Metropolitan Art, which is close by.’

  Flick clapped her hands together. ‘Sounds like a plan then.’

  ‘I love a plan.’ Neve lifted her empty glass; the contents had vanished quickly. Maybe she wasn’t as chilled out about the nonevent of the evening as she wanted them to believe. ‘How will we get there?’

  ‘Subway is our easiest bet,’ Emma said.

  Neve frowned. ‘Carrie never took the subway. Isn’t it … dangerous?’

  Emma raised an eyebrow. ‘Carrie and her friends are fictional. You can’t come to New York and not take the subway. It’s part of the experience.’

  ‘If you say so.’ She didn’t look convinced at all.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Emma said, putting her glass back on the bar. ‘But I’m exhausted. Hope you don’t mind but I’m going to hit the sack.’

  ‘We do mind,’ Neve objected. ‘The night’s still young and you haven’t even finished your drink!’

  Flick resisted the urge to point out that Emma hadn’t even started it. ‘Go and get some rest,’ she said, reaching out to pat Emma’s arm. ‘We won’t be long but we’ll be quiet when we come in.’ Someone had to stay and supervise Neve, who seemed intent on enjoying herself.

  ‘Thanks.’ Emma smiled her appreciation. ‘And don’t worry about disturbing me. Once my head hits the pillow I’m out for the count. Here, you have my drink.’

  Emma thrust her cocktail towards Neve and although she cocked her head to one side as if about to object, her fingers closed around the glass and she took a sip.

  Emma kissed them both on the cheek. ‘Be good. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

  ‘That really limits our fun.’ Neve pouted, watching as Emma turned and started through the mob of people.

  Flick was about to voice her concern about Emma when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Frowning, she turned slowly and came face to face with a man in a navy suit. A man she hadn’t seen since she was a teenager.

  ‘Jeremy?’

  At least he looked like her old school friend, but like good wine he’d vastly improved with age. His undeniably handsome face grinned back at her, his dirty blond hair slightly too long, as if he were overdue for an appointment at the barber, but on him it worked.

  ‘Felicity!’ he exclaimed, in the same stunned tone she had used. ‘I thought I saw you when you came in but then I thought my mind must be playing tricks on me. I’m here at the conference and we’ve had a few drinks, if you know what I mean. But I kept glancing over and then when you turned your head a minute ago, I just knew it was you.’ He chuckled. ‘How the hell are you?’

  ‘I’m great,’ Flick lied.

  ‘You certainly look fabulous,’ Jeremy said, his gaze sweeping appreciatively down her body and back up again. She would usually have been appalled at such attention, but tonight she felt flattered. Lately Seb was more likely to appreciate his own reflection in the mirror than her.

  Neve peered at him like he was some kind of creepy stalker. ‘You’ve been watching us?’

  ‘Oh relax, Neve.’ Flick elbowed her in the side. ‘This is an old friend. Jeremy Smythe. We went to high school together.’ Later she’d tell Neve that they had only been friends because they didn’t have much choice if they didn’t want to be loners in the schoolyard at lunchtime. ‘Jeremy, this is one of my best friends, Neve. God, how long has it been?’

  When they were teenagers, they’d been the geeks that nobody else wanted to hang out with—if they’d even noticed the odd duo existed. But Jeremy had definitely grown into his looks. His acne had gone and his lanky body filled out—he obviously spent plenty of his spare time at the gym.

  ‘Pleased to meet you.’ Jeremy smiled and offered his hand.

  Neve took it reluctantly. She obviously still wasn’t sure whether he was a psycho serial killer or not.

  ‘Would you like to come over and sit with me and some mates? We’ve got a table.’

  ‘Oh, we were just about to leave.’ Neve smiled tightly.

  ‘That would be lovely,’ Flick said at the same time. Then she looked to Neve and gestured to Emma’s drink in her hand. ‘You’ve still got to finish that.’

  It wasn’t every day a blast from the past showed up and she didn’t want to say goodbye to her old friend just yet. Neve narrowed her eyes and then lifted the straw to take a sip.

  ‘Excellent. We’re over in the corner. Come this way.’ Jeremy gestured for them to go ahead of him.

  Drinking as she walked, Neve went first and Flick followed, something low inside her tightening when Jeremy brushed his hand against the small of her back. An unfamiliar tingle weaved its way up her spine.

  It felt like centuries had gone by since anyone besides Seb had touched her and although this wasn’t exactly an intimate caress she was glad neither Neve nor Jeremy could see the heat rush to her face. She took a sip of her cosmo, hoping the cool liquid would lower her body temperature.

  ‘Blake, Robbie,’ Jeremy said when they arrived at a table covered in a multitude of empty glasses. The men had obviously been busy. ‘This is my old school friend, Felicity, and her friend, Neve. I invited them to come sit with us.’

  The men—one a redhead with a goatee beard, the other dark haired and close-shaven—grinned up at the girls.

  ‘Hallelujah,’ said the redhead. ‘If I had to listen to any more of Blake’s babble, I was going to kill him. Take a seat.’ Robbie smiled at Neve and gestured to the seat between him and Blake.

  With a reluctant sigh, she sat and both men focused on her.

  ‘So what brings you to New York?’ Blake asked.

  Flick didn’t hear Neve’s answer. Taking the chair Jeremy held back for her, she quickly got lost in his conversation.

  ‘You still living in WA?’ he asked.

  ‘Yep—still in Mount Lawley actually.’

  ‘What brings you to New York?’

  Not about to explain that she’d run away to the other side of the world because she didn’t know if she could ever look at her husband the
same way again, she leaned a little closer so Neve couldn’t hear. ‘My other friend Emma and I—she’s in our hotel room—have come to support Neve in a tricky situation. She’s come to reconnect with an old friend and tell him something she should have told him years ago.’

  ‘Sounds intriguing,’ Jeremy said, his voice low and his head close enough that Flick got a whiff of some earthy-scented cologne.

  She ignored the urge to inhale deeply. ‘What about you? You still in Perth?’

  ‘No. I call Dubai home now. I’ve been there for five years.’

  ‘Wow. I’ve heard some great things about Dubai. Wonderful climate, good shopping…’

  ‘And it’s all true. You should come visit one day.’

  It was probably an innocent invitation, but Flick found her eyes wandering to Jeremy’s hand, checking for a wedding band. She was out of practice interacting with men and her gaze was far too obvious. He caught her glance, laughed and answered the question she’d been pondering.

  ‘Not married. Tried it once but the missus got bored of me working away from home so much that she worked her way through the neighbours, trying them on for size. She finally decided on the policeman across the road and that’s when she asked me for a divorce.’

  Ouch! Flick didn’t know what to say to that. Jeremy didn’t sound too cut up, but betrayal—in whatever form—always hurt. She gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘Sounds like you’re better off without her.’

  He smiled in a way that made her both uneasy and a little bit aroused. At least that’s what she thought the fluttery feeling in her belly signified. ‘What about you?’

  She blinked. ‘What about me?’

  He laughed and glanced down at her hand. ‘You’re married, then?’

  She suddenly wished she’d taken off her wedding ring this week, just to experience what it felt like to no longer be one half of the perfect couple. With a sigh, she rolled the ring around her finger as she stared at it. ‘It’s … complicated.’