The Art of Keeping Secrets

by Rachael Johns

  ‘Anything I can do to help?’ Patrick asked.

  Emma smiled at him. ‘You can hold the flowers while I fetch a vase.’ She handed him the bouquet and Flick could practically see the spark that flashed between them as their fingers brushed against each other in the exchange.

  When the coffee was made and the flowers organised, they all perched on stools at the breakfast bar nursing their mugs and staring into them.

  Emma was the first to break the silence. ‘How’s Neve coping?’

  Flick sighed. ‘As well as can be expected. She’s barely left the ICU but her parents have made her take a few breaks while they sit with Will. She refuses to leave the waiting room though, just in case something changes while she’s gone. James is arriving tomorrow.’

  ‘Jeez. I hope he’s not too harsh on her.’ Emma had changed her tune dramatically since first finding out about Neve’s affair—but then again a lot of things had happened since then.

  ‘He’d better not be.’ Flick tightened her grip on her mug. ‘Or he’ll have me to deal with.’

  ‘What exactly happened to Neve’s son?’ Patrick asked. ‘And who’s James?’

  Emma started from the beginning and the way she confided in Patrick, telling him the whole situation—including Neve’s affair with James—proved to Flick she valued his friendship a lot, even if she wasn’t yet prepared to admit this.

  But despite the can of Diet Coke and the coffee she was drinking, she felt her eyelids getting heavy. ‘Sorry,’ she said, interrupting Patrick and Emma’s conversation, ‘but I think I need to head home. I’m going back to the hospital tomorrow morning. Call me if you want me to pick you up on my way.’

  She slid off her stool and Emma went to do the same. ‘Don’t go yet!’ She sounded panicked.

  Flick ignored Emma’s protest. ‘I’ll talk to you in the morning. Have a good night. I can see myself out.’

  Emma, her back turned to Patrick, narrowed her eyes, but Flick pretended not to understand the silent plea. Emma might be nervous about being alone with a man, but it could be exactly what she needed right now.

  ‘Okay.’ She let out a reluctant sigh. ‘Thanks for checking up on me.’

  ‘That’s what friends are for.’ Flick dumped her mug in the sink and glanced at Patrick and Emma sitting beside each other. They looked good together.

  She hoped if she left them alone, the wall Emma had built up around her heart after Max’s betrayal might start to crumble. She deserved some happiness after everything she’d been through.

  *

  ‘Mum,’ called Zoe from the dining room, the moment Flick walked through her front door fifteen minutes later. ‘Come in here, we need your advice.’

  Flick groaned as she shrugged out of her jacket and hung it on one of the hooks in the hall. ‘Coming.’

  She found her family—Zoe, Beau, Seb and even Toby—sitting at the table with a massive piece of cardboard in front of them and lots of tiny fluoro Post-it notes. Was it that time already? Zoe, eternally organised when it came to some things, had a dated to-do list of things that needed to be achieved before the big day. Working out the table plan for the wedding reception was one of them. Flick remembered arguing when she’d first seen the list that you couldn’t work out the seating arrangements before you’d sent out the invitations but Zoe had been adamant.

  ‘This way we don’t invite people who are going to cause issues,’ she’d said matter-of-factly. Flick didn’t think it worked that way—you couldn’t not ask Seb’s great aunt just because nobody would want to sit with her—but she’d learnt early in her daughter’s life that Zoe had to work out these things for herself.

  But tonight? The prospect made her want to burst into tears.

  Seb took one look at her and stood. ‘Your mum’s had an exhausting day. I think we can manage this without her.’ He took a few steps towards her and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Would you like me to run you a bath and pour you a glass of wine?’

  He knew her so well, but Flick shook her head and went to sit down at the table. She didn’t want to neglect her children—not when life had shown her that she shouldn’t take them for granted.

  ‘No, it’s fine. Let’s do this.’ She tried to swallow her irritation and show some enthusiasm as she took a glance at what decisions had already been made.

  ‘Any news on Will?’ Toby asked, his tone anxious as he ripped a bright pink Post-it in half.

  Flick shook her head, wishing she could give him some good news about his friend. Toby’s face fell. ‘But he’s not any worse either,’ she said, reaching beside her to squeeze his hand. ‘Right, where have you decided to seat great aunt Glenda?’

  A synchronised groan echoed around the table, which made Flick smile for the first time in forty-eight hours.

  Zoe made a face. ‘We’re kinda hoping she’ll be sick that day.’

  That was like hoping for a lotto win to get you out of debt.

  Aside from the quandary of what to do with Seb’s great aunt, they appeared to have made solid progress on the plan, bar a few tiny disagreements over a couple of family friends who’d divorced two years ago. Zoe was adamant they were still civil and would sit together for the sake of their adult children, but Seb wondered if it was wise to put their new partners on the same table. Flick tried to concentrate and add her thoughts, but her mind kept drifting to Will lying unconscious in the hospital.

  Just the thought of Toby being in his place sent terror flooding through her body. Their boys might be tall, strapping men physically but they were at critical stages in their emotional development and if Neve’s news about James had caused Will to react like he did, how would Toby react when he found out about his dad wanting to be a woman? And what about Zoe? She wasn’t much older than Toby, and Seb had always been her hero.

  A chill slid down Flick’s spine and she pushed back from the table. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t do this tonight.’

  She stood and just managed to flash Zoe an apologetic smile before hurrying down the hallway. But instead of going to her bedroom, she rushed outside, retreated to her studio and locked the door.

  Hopefully Seb would take the hint that she needed to be alone.

  Chapter Forty-four

  Genevieve

  After more than forty-eight hours sitting by Will’s side in the ICU, Neve barely registered the sounds around her or the comings and goings of people anymore. It wasn’t like the maternity ward where visitors, medical staff and patients alike were all smiles, happy to chat and share in a stranger’s joy. Here the solemn-faced visitors kept to themselves and the doctors and nurses went about their business, only occasionally offering sympathetic smiles to the people who sat in plastic chairs keeping vigil beside their loved ones’ beds.

  Will’s bed wasn’t far from the door that swung open on a regular basis, but Neve couldn’t have given a description of any of the people that drifted in and out.

  Until Tuesday afternoon, when the door opened again, footsteps approached and the hairs at the back of her neck tingled to life. Her insides froze and she turned slowly to find James standing at the end of Will’s bed.

  She’d been expecting him of course, but this knowledge hadn’t prepared her for the almost physical impact she felt as she laid eyes on him. No man should look that good in a pinkish coloured shirt after lord knows how many hours on a plane. But as usual, James defied such laws. Her body temperature skyrocketed and she had no control over her gaze as it slid down over his body, taking in his faded jeans and brown boots, and then skipping back up again to his sexy stubble and the dark sunglasses pushed up on top of his head.

  The past few days she’d felt barely alive, but James’s arrival sent her pulse racing again.

  Immediately she remembered that she hadn’t showered or changed her clothes—she hadn’t wanted to take the time away from Will in case his condition changed while she wasn’t there. She even begrudged the time it took to go to the bathroom. So she could only imagine what she must look lik
e.

  Guilt speared her. Who the hell cared what she looked like when Will was lying beside her clinging onto life by a thread?

  This thought snapped Neve back to reality and her grip tightened on Will’s hand. He’s here, baby. All her son had asked of her was to help him meet his dad and she’d royally stuffed up in that department. She cleared her throat, ready to speak, and then realised she had no idea what to say. Her relationship with James had always been a roller-coaster but nothing like the emotional whiplash of the last week.

  He stood like a statue, staring at the bed, his expression unreadable as he saw Will for the first time in the flesh. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Neither of them said a word, but then James emerged from his trance-like state. He shook his head, turning his gaze slightly to rest on Neve—as if he’d only just noticed her sitting there. Their eyes met and she swallowed, biting down on the impulse to apologise again.

  But before she could say anything, he stepped around the bed and came towards her. Her heart shot to her throat as fear overwhelmed her. He was understandably furious but surely he wouldn’t try anything in here?

  ‘Gennie.’ His voice was barely a whisper.

  She dropped Will’s hand and stood, ready to protect herself if need be.

  Then, taking her totally by surprise, he closed the distance between them and pulled her against him. Was this some kind of trick? She’d never been more shocked in her life.

  ‘How are you doing?’ His deep warm voice whispered against her cheek as her body relaxed against his. So much for being a strong, independent woman. Aside from when her parents and Flick and Emma had arrived at the hospital, Neve had barely shed a tear since being here, but now the barricades came crashing down and tears sprouted in her eyes. She wasn’t sure whether she was crying at the comforting feeling of being wrapped in James’s arms, at the shock of him actually being here or the kindness in his voice, which she totally didn’t deserve.

  Whatever the reason, she couldn’t speak to answer him. They stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms for what felt like an eternity. Her tears soaked his shirt and when he finally pulled back, she realised her hair was wet from his tears. Again, she had to physically restrain herself from saying sorry.

  James, one arm still holding her to his side, turned towards the bed and looked down at Will. ‘He looks like me.’

  His voice held such pride and emotion. All Neve could do was nod.

  ‘It’s okay to touch him?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘The doctor said touch is good and that it’s quite likely he can hear what is being said around him. We’ve been encouraged to talk to him, especially about things he loves, like rowing.’

  ‘We?’ He looked into her eyes and her heart skipped a beat.

  Neve licked her lips. ‘My parents. They’re the only ones apart from me who have been allowed in here. It’s immediate family only. They’re outside in the waiting room—you probably passed them on your way in.’

  He nodded, dropped his hand from her side and reached out, hesitating a moment before placing it on top of Will’s hand.

  ‘Hello, son,’ James said, his voice choked.

  Neve’s heart turned over in her chest at the emotion in his tone. For the briefest second, she swore Will’s eyes flickered, but the next moment they were still again and she guessed desperate hope had fuelled her imagination. For so long it had been she and Will against the world—when he was a toddler, she’d called them the Dynamite Duo—but suddenly she felt as if she were an intruder.

  Perhaps she should leave James alone with Will for a little while. Not long enough to go home and fix her appearance—let’s not get carried away—but long enough to have something to eat, down another coffee and go to the bathroom. Long enough to let James spend some one-on-one time with his son. He probably had things to say, private things.

  She took a step back so that she could walk behind James, but his voice halted her.

  ‘Stay!’ he said, without even turning his head. Then, ‘Stay and tell me more about our boy.’

  Neve let out a long sigh. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. I may have been angry at you for what you did, but this—’ he gestured to Will lying on the bed ‘—this is my fault as much as it is yours.’

  ‘What? How do you figure that?’

  ‘If I hadn’t put so much pressure on you, maybe you’d have had some more time to work out the best way to tell him, maybe—’

  Neve held up a hand. ‘Stop, James. This is not your fault.’ There was no point both of them beating themselves up.

  ‘Either way, now isn’t the time to hold grudges,’ he said. ‘The past is past. All that matters now is our son getting well again.’

  A lump formed in her throat. She couldn’t agree more. Will didn’t deserve any of this and neither did James. If she needed to be punished for living a lie, for keeping a terrible secret all these years, then it should be her life in jeopardy.

  ‘Okay,’ she whispered as she lowered herself back into the plastic seat. Her knees were too shaky to hold her up any longer. She wasn’t naive enough to think that James had forgiven her, but he was man enough to set aside his disgruntlement for the time being, and for that she was grateful.

  She began to speak, telling James random anecdotes from Will’s seventeen years—funny things he’d said as a child, hobbies he’d been passionate about, awards he’d received. She couldn’t have kept the pride from her voice if she’d wanted to. Over the years, Neve had learnt to curb her enthusiasm when speaking about her son’s achievements, but James was an avid listener, wanting to know every tiny thing about Will, and the act of telling him calmed her in a way that nothing had been able to until now.

  She hoped Will could hear her voice as she spoke and James’s laughter as he listened. She hoped the knowledge that his much longed for father had finally arrived would help give their son the will to survive.

  Chapter Forty-five

  Emma

  Emma desperately wanted to be at the airport to meet her kids as they came through arrivals, but she’d been specifically told not to drive. Flick had made her promise to ask for help if she needed it, but she was dealing with enough of her own issues. She could ask Patrick, but that might raise suspicions from her kids. She wasn’t yet sure what was going on there but even if something was, the rules of single parent dating clearly stated that children should not be introduced to boyfriends until the relationship was serious. Then there was the fact that Caleb and the girls would wonder why she hadn’t just driven herself.

  Sigh.

  They would find out soon enough. That thought sent a shiver down her spine as if a spider had scuttled over her back. She still hadn’t determined exactly how much to tell them about her illness. While she’d always been upfront and honest with them, the prospect of having her head sliced open terrified her and she wanted to protect her children from the stress. With Will still in a coma and exams coming up, Caleb had enough to stress about without adding her problems to the equation.

  Double sigh.

  She glanced at her watch and paced to the other end of the verandah. According to her flight tracker the plane had landed over an hour ago, and Laura had messaged from the car when they were leaving the airport. Her family should be home any second. Usually she’d be bouncing up and down like an excited child after not having seen her kids for two weeks, but today there was nothing in her heart but trepidation. Emma put a hand to her forehead, surprised there wasn’t an indent by now from all the rubbing. Her doctor had given her a prescription for a stronger painkiller, so that had kept the ache tolerable, but the thought of telling Caleb, Laura and Louise about her tumour and imminent operation had brought with it the worst headache she’d had all week.

  The sound of a car coming up the road halted her pacing and a few moments later Max’s flashy SUV rolled into the driveway. Emma forced an enthusiastic smile and lifted her hand to wave as the vehicle came to a stop. She hur
ried down the steps onto the grass as the back doors of the car were flung open in synchrony and her babies tumbled out. They looked a few shades darker than when they’d left and were wearing clothes she didn’t recognise. Laura and Louise waved crazily and screamed, ‘Hello Mum,’ as they rushed towards her, but Caleb approached more slowly. She opened her arms wide for the girls and looked over their heads at him, seeing pure fear in his eyes.

  ‘Any more news on Will?’ he asked.

  She shook her head and he nodded solemnly. The girls stilled in her arms and looked up to her.

  ‘But he’s going to be okay, isn’t he?’ Laura’s voice shook.

  Although Will was primarily Caleb’s mate, the close association of their families meant the twins looked upon him as another older, slightly less annoying brother.

  Emma swallowed. She wanted to say yes, to reassure them, but the latest news from the hospital hadn’t been as good as they’d hoped.

  ‘I want to see him,’ Caleb said, shoving his hands in his pocket. ‘Can we go now?’

  Emma spoke softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. ‘I’m sorry, but you can’t. It’s only immediate family in ICU.’

  Caleb cursed and kicked the grass beneath his feet. Then, without another word, he stormed up the steps and into the house, no doubt intending to take his anger out on his Xbox.

  ‘Guess I’ll grab all the luggage, shall I?’ Max called from the car.

  ‘Thanks, Dad,’ the girls shouted back. Oblivious to his sarcasm, they headed into the house after Caleb.

  With a sigh, Emma trudged over to the SUV, greeted Max with as much civility as she could garner and helped him unload the kids’ suitcases from the boot. Chanel didn’t look up from the front seat or acknowledge Emma, instead tapping away on her iPhone like the teenager she practically was.

  Emma and Max dragged the three suitcases and extra hand luggage up the steps onto the verandah. It was an unspoken rule that Max no longer came inside the house that had once been their family home, but instead of dumping the luggage and leaving, he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed.