The Art of Keeping Secrets

by Rachael Johns

  As she suspected, Toby was more interested in her wound than what had happened at the hospital. ‘Wow, you’re going to have an epic scar.’

  She chuckled. A scar on her forehead was the least of her worries right now.

  The moment they entered the hospital, Toby’s awe over her scar ended as they all looked to each other, wondering what was next.

  ‘Neve said to go through to the ICU waiting room,’ Flick said.

  ‘I’ll ask the receptionist for directions,’ Seb offered.

  While he approached the main desk, Flick stepped close to Toby and put her arm around him. ‘He’s gonna be okay, I’m sure. He’s a fighter.’

  Toby nodded, but looked as close to tears as Emma had ever seen him. She silently prayed Flick was right.

  Seb returned a few moments later and they followed him to a lift, which took them to the ICU waiting room. Emma shivered as they stepped into the bare room, lined with horrible plastic chairs and a decrepit-looking coffee machine on one wall. A TV on mute flickered in the corner, but of the few occupants in the room, only one person was looking at it and even he didn’t seem to be taking anything in.

  ‘There’s Neve parents,’ Flick whispered, nodding towards a couple holding hands, sitting on two chairs in the corner. Emma had only met them a couple of times but Neve’s mother could almost pass as her older sister. Although in her sixties, she preserved herself well. It was easy to see where Neve’s interest in hair, make-up and fashion had come from. Her father was nondescript and balding, your typical retiree.

  ‘We should go talk to them?’ Emma meant it as a statement but it came out as a question.

  Flick nodded and they followed her the short distance across the room. Neve’s parents looked up as they approached and recognition flashed in their eyes.

  ‘Hello, Mr and Mrs Turner,’ Flick said. ‘We’re Neve and Will’s friends. I’m sorry we have to meet again like this.’

  Mr Turner clasped his wife’s hand and she sniffed before burying her head in a pretty floral handkerchief. ‘Thank you for coming in for Neve,’ he said.

  ‘How is she?’ Emma asked. ‘How is Will?’

  At that moment, a door off to the side opened and Neve emerged. She appeared to have aged ten years since the previous day. They watched as she approached and Emma didn’t dare breathe in case she was about to deliver bad news.

  ‘Hey guys,’ she whispered. ‘What a week, hey? Thanks for coming in.’

  Flick asked the question they were all thinking. ‘How is he?’

  Neve took a quick breath as if she hadn’t had time to worry about a simple thing like inhaling until now. ‘He’s still critical but they’re doing everything they can. Mum, Dad, do you want to go in for a bit? He’s unconscious but…’ Her voice drifted off and her parents stood.

  Words weren’t necessary. They exchanged looks and a long hug with Neve and then went through the door she’d come from.

  Neve fell into the seat her mum had been warming only moments before. Emma and Flick sat on either side of her and Seb and Toby remained standing. ‘I’m sorry, but they’ll only allow immediate family in ICU.’

  ‘We’re here for you,’ Flick said. ‘Is there anything we can get you? Or Will?’

  ‘A change of clothes, some toiletries?’ Emma suggested, hoping Neve wouldn’t take this the wrong way.

  ‘I need coffee. Proper coffee.’ She glared at the machine over on the wall that looked like something out of a 1970s sitcom.

  ‘Toby and I are on it,’ Seb said.

  As the two of them walked off, Seb wrapped a comforting arm around his son and Emma’s heart squeezed at the sight. He’d always been such a great, hands-on dad, but what would happen to the strong bond he had with his children once he came out?

  ‘This is such a mess,’ Neve said, rubbing her hand over her face. ‘He looks awful. All pale and battered.’

  ‘Have the doctors given you any further information?’ Flick asked as Emma gripped Neve’s hand.

  Neve shook her head. ‘They put him in an induced coma. That’s about as much as I understand. And that’s apparently a good thing. I have no idea what half the big scary medical terms they use mean, but it sounds like they know what they’re doing.’

  ‘Of course they do,’ Emma said. ‘What exactly happened last night?’

  Neve sniffed. ‘We were having a lovely chat over pizza and then I went and ruined it by telling him why we’d really gone to New York. He reacted worse that I imagined. Totally flipped, stormed out of the house and then took my car. I should have called the police then, I should have—’

  ‘Stop!’ Flick interrupted. ‘Should haves are a waste of time. You need to focus on Will. There’s no point going over how you could have played things differently.’

  ‘I can’t stop thinking about what must have been going through his head when he rolled the car. How betrayed he must have felt. I just want to give him a big hug and never let go but he’s got so many tubes attached to him that I’m scared I’ll knock something out.’

  Emma and Flick didn’t say anything. Emma had no idea what to say. If she were in Neve’s position, if one of her three were lying in intensive care, there’d be nothing in the world that would make her feel better. She hoped that simply being here to listen was something.

  ‘Would you like me to call James for you?’ Flick offered.

  James. Emma had almost forgotten about the poor man who had only just found out he had a son and now faced this, but Neve shook her head. ‘I already did it.’

  ‘Oh,’ Flick said.

  ‘I called him straight after I called my parents,’ Neve explained. ‘It was the least I could do after what I’ve put Will through. He’s catching the first flight he can get.’

  ‘Here?’ Emma asked. Her eyes widened in shock. ‘He’s coming here?’

  Neve nodded. ‘He’s a good man. I only hope he gets here in time.’ With those words, her whole face crumpled, her shoulders shuddering as she broke down.

  Emma and Flick looked helplessly over the top of her at each other, before both leaning in and embracing their friend. Emma had lost count of the number of group hugs they’d shared in the past week.

  It wasn’t long before Seb and Toby returned with two cardboard carriers of takeaway coffees. ‘I wasn’t sure how your parents took their coffees,’ Seb said as he handed Neve hers, ‘but I bought them a couple of flat whites.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Neve whispered, her hand shaking as she took the drink.

  At that moment, Neve’s parents reappeared from the ICU ward and all eyes snapped to them. It was obvious they’d been crying.

  ‘Is there any change?’ Neve leapt up, spilling coffee down the front of the jumper she’d been wearing on the plane.

  Her father shook his head. ‘We’ve been thinking though. Mum can sit with Will while you go home, freshen up and get a change of clothes. I’ll drive you.’

  ‘No! I’m not going anywhere.’ Without another word, she shoved her barely touched coffee into Emma’s hands and rushed back into the ward.

  Emma and the others, including Mr and Mrs Turner, sighed in unison.

  ‘I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here if I was her either,’ Flick said. ‘Perhaps Seb and Toby can go to Neve’s place and collect a few things instead?’

  ‘We’d be happy to, wouldn’t we?’ Seb said, looking to Toby.

  He nodded.

  Mrs Turner looked sceptically at Seb. ‘Will you know what things to get? Neve’s very particular about her clothes and make-up.’

  ‘I don’t think she’s worried about anything but Will right now,’ Emma said, but inside she wondered if Seb perhaps knew more about Neve’s needs than anyone else.

  ‘I’m sure we’ll manage.’

  ‘Yes.’ Neve’s mum sighed. ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. Thank you.’

  ‘Not a problem.’ Seb smiled and once again he and Toby left.

  The Turners retreated to the corner they’d been sitting in when ev
eryone had arrived, and Flick and Emma sat back in their seats and each took a gulp of coffee.

  ‘How’s things with you and Seb?’ Emma asked.

  Flick took a moment to reply. ‘Good, actually. We had a big chat last night.’

  ‘And?’ Emma prompted.

  ‘And I’ve told him I’ll stand by him.’

  About to take another sip, Emma’s hand froze, the paper cup suspended halfway to her mouth. ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘We’re going to stay married.’

  ‘Oh!’ Emma couldn’t hide her surprise. Flick had been so angry in New York, so determined that Seb’s transitioning would be the end of their relationship. And quite frankly, neither Emma nor Neve could blame her. It would certainly be a deal breaker for her. It was one thing to be politically correct and agree that everyone should have the right to be whoever they wanted, but it was quite another when such a decision affected you personally. What had changed Flick’s mind?

  ‘I’ve given this a lot of thought,’ Flick said. ‘The last week has been hell in many ways, but it’s also clarified a lot of things for me. And in the end, I love Seb. Always have and always will. It’s as simple as that.’

  Emma forced her head to nod and tried to offer an understanding smile, but all she could think of was that love was never simple. And that marriage was one of the most complicated institutions ever invented.

  ‘What about sex?’ Lately she’d lost some of the ability to think before she spoke. She blamed the tumour. ‘I’m sorry, you don’t have to—’

  Flick smiled. ‘It’s okay. To be honest, I’m not sure. We’re going to go to counselling so I can understand more how Seb feels and what is ahead of us, but although we’ll still be married, of course our relationship will change.’

  In other words, it would no longer include the exchange of bodily fluids.

  As if reading her mind, Flick said, ‘Seb’s my best friend and that’s the real foundation of marriage. Everything else fades after time anyway.’

  Emma thought that a pessimistic way to think, but then again, her own marriage hadn’t exactly been the epitome of success. Even so, she worried about her friend’s emotional wellbeing. It seemed the only person making any compromises in this scenario was Flick. Seb got his dreams fulfilled but Flick had to readjust hers. She couldn’t help but wonder if Flick would one day regret those sacrifices.

  ‘Are you even allowed to stay married?’ she asked. ‘Like, same sex marriage isn’t legal in Australia, but I guess you guys are already married, so …’

  ‘I have no idea.’ Flick exhaled deeply. ‘That’s a good question. One of many I hope will be answered as we talk to the counsellor at the reassignment clinic.’

  How Flick could speak about this so matter-of-factly, Emma couldn’t comprehend. Her decision to stay seemed like such a leap from their conversations of a few days ago. ‘You know I love you and will stand by you whatever you decide, but have you really given this enough thought?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes. I married for life. For good, for bad, for better, for worse.’

  Emma tried very hard not to raise her eyebrows. She was fairly certain the for worse part of the marriage vows meant things like terminal illness or dire financial straits, but your husband wanting to be a woman?

  That was on a whole other level.

  ‘Enough about me. How are you feeling today? Do you want me to come with you to your biopsy tomorrow?’

  ‘Patrick has offered to drive me.’

  Well, that part wasn’t a lie, but she’d brushed him off with the promise that Neve and Flick were taking her. Truth was, she was happier this way. Her feelings for Patrick were too complicated to deal with right now and Neve needed Flick more than Emma did. Having a tumour in your head wasn’t a walk in the park, but nothing could compare to the possibility of losing your child.

  Chapter Forty-three

  Felicity

  Exhausted after another day hanging out in the waiting room of ICU, all Flick wanted was to head home, fall into a warm bath and have a glass of wine, but first she had to check on Emma. She felt guilty for even thinking of things such as warm soothing water and alcohol when Will was still critical and Emma so sick. She’d been tempted to simply call Emma and ask how the biopsy had gone, but a little reprimanding voice in her head reminded her that a phone call could hide things. She needed to see her face when she asked.

  Taking a sip of the Diet Coke she’d bought from the hospital vending machine, she turned the steering wheel with the other hand and pulled into Emma’s driveway to find another vehicle already there. As she climbed out of her car, a tall man emerged holding a bunch of bright flowers and it took Flick a couple of seconds to recognise Patrick.

  ‘How’d you go today?’ Flick called by way of a greeting. She guessed he’d popped out to get takeaway for dinner or something. The flowers were a nice touch and made her wonder if there wasn’t something more going on between him and Emma than she’d let on.

  ‘We were quite busy for a Monday actually,’ he replied and then lowered his voice as Flick got closer. ‘How did Emma’s biopsy go? I wanted to call and wish her well but the day got away from me.’

  She frowned. ‘Hang on, didn’t you take her to the hospital?’

  ‘I thought you and Neve were going with her,’ he said, his tone uncertain.

  Flick shook her head. ‘Neve’s son was involved in a serious car accident on Saturday night. He’s in intensive care. I’ve been with her at the hospital all day—not the same one Emma had her biopsy at unfortunately.’

  As realisation dawned on them, they turned to face Emma’s house and then started towards it.

  ‘She drives me crazy with her determination to be superwoman and her refusal to ask for or accept help,’ Flick said. ‘If she hadn’t had the seizure in New York, she’d still be popping painkillers like they were candy and no closer to knowing why she had such shocking headaches.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Patrick murmured and then gave a solid rap on the front door.

  They both folded their arms across their chests and waited for Emma to answer. Flick silently counted in her head. She’d give her thirty seconds—if Emma didn’t come to the door by then, she was using her spare key.

  At twenty-seven, the door opened and Emma appeared, dressed in dark jeans, a long sleeved t-shirt and a puffer jacket as if she were ready to go out. She glanced from Flick to Patrick and bit her lip, knowing she’d been caught out.

  ‘Hi guys,’ she said, her eyes not meeting either of theirs. ‘I thought you might be my taxi.’

  ‘What taxi?’ Flick asked with a slight shake of her head.

  ‘I’m not allowed to drive so I called a taxi to take me to the hospital to see Neve. How is she? Any progress on Will?’

  ‘He’s still the same,’ Flick said, her heart hurting at the thought, a reminder of the helplessness she’d felt all day. She hadn’t been allowed in to see Will but fetching coffees and snacks when Neve or her parents needed them hadn’t seemed enough.

  Emma sighed and pursed her lips together. ‘I still can’t believe it.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear about Neve’s son,’ Patrick said, offering Emma the flowers he’d bought. ‘These are for you, Emma.’

  She blinked and then took them, lifting them to her nose and inhaling. ‘Thank you. They smell lovely.’

  Patrick shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled, a slight red tinge flushing in his cheeks. Flick watched with interest.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he said, then, ‘Did you have your biopsy today?’

  ‘Yes. It went well I think. I’ll get definite results tomorrow or the next day and then an operation date will be set if that’s what the specialist believes needs to be done.’ Emma spoke as if they’d asked her about a job interview, not something as serious as drilling a hole in her skull and taking a sample. Flick could tell she was pretending to be fine when inside she was probably terrified about what the results might show. ‘Would you guys like a coff
ee?’

  As she asked this, a taxi pulled into the driveway behind Patrick’s and Flick’s cars and beeped its horn.

  ‘I’ll send him away,’ Patrick said. ‘If you want to visit Neve, I can drive you.’

  Emma nodded as if realising it wouldn’t be wise to refuse another offer of help. As Patrick turned and jogged towards the taxi, Flick glared at her friend. ‘How did you get to the hospital today?’

  Emma gestured towards the taxi. ‘I called a cab. I was fine. Really. Neve needed you and I didn’t want to inconvenience Patrick; he’s already going to be overworked with me needing time off.’

  Flick didn’t have the energy to argue. ‘Okay, but promise me you’ll stop trying to be so independent. We’re your friends, we want to help.’

  ‘Promise,’ Emma said, although she didn’t sound very convincing. ‘Now coffee or wine? I’m not supposed to drink but don’t let that stop you.’

  ‘I’ll have a coffee but I won’t stay long.’ She leaned closer to Emma. ‘Don’t want to cramp your style.’

  Emma blushed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Patrick is just a friend. A good friend.’

  ‘A good friend who brings you beautiful flowers? I knew he wasn’t gay.’

  ‘You’ve given me flowers before.’

  ‘Yes, but in my experience, men don’t bring flowers without an ulterior motive and I reckon Patrick’s is to get in your pants.’

  ‘Shh!’ Emma pressed her finger against her lips, her cheeks turning crimson as Patrick’s footsteps sounded behind them. ‘Come inside, you two.’

  She ushered them into the house and then headed down the corridor towards the kitchen.

  ‘Your house is immaculate,’ Flick noted.

  ‘It’s easy to keep clean when the kids aren’t here. And even easier when I’ve hardly been here either. Now, let me put the kettle on.’

  ‘Please sit and let me do that,’ Flick said, only just stopping herself from physically forcing Emma onto one of the stools at her breakfast bar. ‘You put those flowers into a vase.’