The Art of Keeping Secrets

by Rachael Johns

  ‘It’s fine.’ Flick rubbed her lips together. ‘I can have another taste of bubbly when we do the speeches but I don’t need to drink to have fun.’

  ‘Are you sure, Mum?’

  Flick nodded. She’d do anything to make Zoe and Beau’s day run smoothly, and in some ways having to focus on driving would keep her mind from other less desirable thoughts. ‘Come on, let’s get this show on the road.’

  Placated slightly, Zoe climbed into the black taxi cab with her father, while her bridesmaids and Toby tumbled into Flick’s car.

  ‘Can I drive?’ Toby asked. He was on his learner’s licence and while Flick wanted him to get as much experience as possible on the road, her nerves couldn’t handle much more right now.

  ‘No,’ she said firmly as she turned the key in the ignition. ‘Not today.’

  *

  When they arrived at the church, Flick slipped the car keys into her clutch bag and then walked over to join Zoe, Seb and the bridesmaids, who’d escaped her vehicle almost before she’d stopped it.

  She kissed Zoe lightly on the cheek so as not to spoil her makeup. ‘You look gorgeous, my darling. I’m so happy for you. See you on the other side.’

  And then, without so much as a glance at Seb, Flick grabbed Toby’s hand and dragged him inside the church. Soft classical music wafted over them as they made their way down the aisle to the front pew, waving and smiling at the gathered guests.

  ‘You look hot,’ Neve mouthed as Flick and Toby passed her, Will and James.

  Flick smiled at her friend, grateful for the compliment. She tried to ignore the tug of jealousy as she noticed James’s and Neve’s hands linked like two teenagers who’d just discovered sex and couldn’t stop touching each other. James had landed back in town just in time for Will’s high school graduation last week and was about to start working on The Lion King. And Flick was happy for Neve, truly she was.

  Two rows in front was Emma, looking equally as radiant with Patrick and her three children by her side. She smiled up at Flick and wiggled her fingers in an excited wave. The last few months hadn’t been easy for Emma—it turned out that recovering from brain surgery wasn’t a walk in the park. She’d had mood swings and hormonal, rage-filled tantrums that the doctors had warned her about, but Patrick had stood by her through every moment, proving himself to be ten times the man Max had ever been.

  Flick blew Emma a kiss and hurried on down the aisle to take her seat beside her dad and Seb’s parents. She kissed them all on their cheeks and glanced across the aisle to Beau’s family and waved.

  When she finally faced the front of the church, her breath whooshed out of her lungs at the sight of Beau standing up at the altar waiting for her girl. For his girl. She waved at him as happy tears welled in her eyes. Whatever the consequences of Seb’s announcement, at least she had faith and confidence that Beau would make it all okay for Zoe.

  Before she had any more time for contemplation, the organist launched into the bridal march. For a couple so young, Zoe and Beau were very conventional. An excited buzz hummed around her and Flick joined the rest of the guests as they stood to welcome the bride. Shivers littered her skin as she watched her daughter and Seb slowly come towards her, both of them beaming happiness from every pore.

  A spike of envy hit her heart that Seb got to have this special moment with Zoe. She couldn’t help but wonder if things would have played out differently if she hadn’t made him wait these past few months. Would Zoe be happy for Sofia to walk her down the aisle or would she have been appalled and asked Flick to do the honours instead? Would the wedding even be going ahead if that bomb had been detonated before it?

  Unable to watch Seb a moment longer, Flick turned to focus on Beau. There was nothing more special than watching a groom see his bride walking towards him and Beau didn’t let her down. As she predicted, tears streamed down his face and he tried to blot them away with the hanky his mum had insisted he tuck into his pocket. She remembered Seb on their wedding day and the way he’d howled like a baby as she’d floated down the aisle towards him. At the time, she’d thought it sweet and had fallen even more in love with him, but now she questioned every shared memory they owned.

  And she hated him for that.

  She hated that Seb had gone and ruined her perfect existence and that the knowledge of what he would soon be doing meant she couldn’t even enjoy this special day the way she deserved to.

  As they came to the end of the aisle, Zoe stepped up to join Beau at the altar. When Seb kissed his daughter’s cheek and then retreated to the seat beside Flick, she dug her nails into her thighs, uncaring if she drew blood.

  The ceremony was beautiful—a true reflection of the gorgeous young couple. Although Flick had initially had her reservations about them marrying so young, Zoe and Beau being together was the only thing in her life that felt right at this moment. Both she and Seb cried through the personalised vows and Toby shook his head, seemingly embarrassed by both of them.

  When the priest gave Beau permission to kiss his bride, Seb’s sobs eased and he smiled his approval, but Flick had to try a lot harder to stop from bawling.

  The rest of the day passed in a blur. Flick stood with Seb, Toby and Beau’s family alongside the bride and groom, offering their best wishes as the guests filed out of the church. When Neve and Emma heard that she was playing second chauffeur to the bridal party, they both volunteered to take her place, but she refused their offers, happy to have a steering wheel to take her frustrations out on as she drove around the city.

  At the reception, which was held at a beautiful winery in the Swan Valley, Flick enjoyed her one glass of champagne with the speeches. As Seb spoke about his love for his family, his pride in his daughter and the joy of being her father, Flick thought it good she had to limit herself to one drink. If she’d drunk any more, she might not have been able to control her tongue, or her stomach.

  Once the speeches were over and the cake cut, Zoe and Beau took to the dance floor, starting with a sweet love song by Shania Twain, which quickly segued into the Macarena and had not only the bridal party but most of the other guests joining them in craziness.

  Flick watched on as Seb, entirely in his element, shook his tush along with the best of them.

  ‘Great wedding,’ Neve said, plonking herself down in the seat next to her.

  Emma landed on the other side. ‘Are you going to dance?’

  ‘Maybe later,’ Flick replied, trying not to sound so melancholy.

  ‘You okay?’ Neve and Emma asked at the same time.

  ‘Of course,’ she lied. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

  Emma gave her a look. ‘Your little girl has just tied the knot. You’re allowed to be emotional.’

  Any eavesdroppers would assume that the emotion they spoke about was down to Zoe flying the nest, but Flick knew that her dearest friends were not referring to that. She’d confided in them about the agreement she’d made with Seb—they knew that tomorrow everything would change. When they smiled at her, it was pity Flick saw in their eyes. Although Emma and Neve supported her and had promised to stand by whatever decision she made, they’d made it clear they didn’t think they’d be strong enough to stay with Seb if they had been in her shoes.

  Sometimes she wondered if she’d made the right choice herself, but it was her bed and she had to lie in it.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Flick said, tossing them a full-faced grin as she pushed back her chair and stood. ‘Come on, let’s dance.’

  And dance they all did.

  The tunes alternated between fun and boppy songs like the Monkees’ ‘I’m a Believer’, and much more romantic numbers, like ‘(I’ve Had) The Time of my Life’ from Dirty Dancing. During this last song, Seb pulled Flick into his arms and held her close, whispering sweet words that made her nauseous as they danced alongside the other ‘happy’ couples.

  ‘It’s been a wonderful day, hasn’t it?’ he said, his deep voice tickling her ear. ‘I can’t believe our little
girl is a Mrs.’

  She made a murmur of agreement.

  ‘I want to thank you for everything,’ he continued. ‘I’m so lucky to have you in my life. I can’t thank you enough for…’ His voice drifted off but he didn’t need to say the words aloud. She had agreed to do what she guessed few wives would and that, in Seb’s eyes, made her some kind of angel.

  But if she were an angel, would she be feeling the gut-wrenching pain she was right now as she danced with her husband for the final time? This might be the beginning of Zoe and Beau’s marriage and she hoped against hell it would be a fabulous one, but she couldn’t help mourning the end of her own as she knew it. She glanced sideways to see Emma cocooned in Patrick’s arms. Neve and James were only a few steps away in an almost identical embrace.

  A silent tear trickled down her cheek.

  *

  It had been a long day, and after waving the new Mr and Mrs off into the night, Flick couldn’t wait to get home. Seb acted as if he could have partied all night, but Flick feigned a headache and they made their excuses to escape not long after the bride and groom. Beau’s parents—fuelled by the alcohol they’d paid for—were happy to stay on and host any lingering guests, and as Toby had gone back to Neve’s house to play Xbox into the early hours of the morning with Will and Caleb, Flick didn’t have to put on a brave face for him either.

  She drove solemnly home, although Seb, lost in his own happiness, didn’t seem to notice. At the sound of their car’s approach, Dog raised his head from where he was asleep on the front porch, but the moment he recognised them, he slumped back down to rest, obviously thinking this far too ungodly an hour to do his usual hyperactive greeting ritual.

  Seb chuckled. ‘Some guard dog he is. I’ll get the gate.’ And then he put his hand on the door, opened it and climbed out, shutting it behind him.

  Flick watched as he jogged in front of the car towards the gate. He peeled it open and waved her through with a theatrical swirl of his hand. She summoned a smile, unable to mean it, hating the fact that he could act so light-hearted and devil-may-care when her heart felt as if it were full of lead. He’d kept his side of the bargain; he’d been patient and waited until Toby had graduated and Zoe was married. Now it was her turn to keep hers.

  With a sigh, she drove forwards and then stopped to wait for Seb to close the gate again. Not that she needed to—although he’d had an excessive amount to drink at the reception, he could manage the short walk up the rest of the driveway to the house—but something made her pause. She glanced in the rear-view mirror as he started to pull one gate over to meet the other and she suddenly saw a woman standing behind the car instead.

  Sofia.

  Her heart went cold and her breath hitched as her future flashed before her eyes much like the near-death experience Emma had relayed, except Flick was looking ahead, not behind.

  And what she saw horrified her. She’d had months to get used to this, counselling session after counselling session and yet…

  Could she really go through with it?

  For one brief second something snapped inside of her.

  She looked away, thought how easy it would be to put the car into reverse and slam her foot down hard on the accelerator. She’d claim it was an accident. Seb’s secret still safe from the world, no one would ever know she’d had an incentive to end his life. Everyone thought they were the perfect couple. Except Neve and Emma, but they were her friends; they’d believe her story. It would be so easy—such a simple solution to her problems. The kids wouldn’t suffer any from Seb’s coming out; instead they’d mourn the loss of a great father. And she’d be a widow, rather than…

  Her heart galloping, she put her hand on the gear stick. She closed her eyes and sucked in a quick breath. The vision of Seb/Sofia lying lifeless on the concrete behind the car—his/her limbs at all angles and a flood of blood pouring from his/her head appeared large as life. Or rather death. Her hands began to shake.

  What the hell am I thinking?

  She couldn’t kill her husband. She couldn’t kill her friend. But neither could she continue living this lie. This wasn’t okay with her. It was making her crazy.

  The gate clicked shut behind the car and a few seconds later, Seb climbed back inside. ‘Flick?’ His tone was anxious. ‘What’s the matter? Are you okay?’

  She opened her eyes and turned her head to face him. ‘No, Seb, I’m not.’

  His eyes brimming with unshed tears, he reached out to hold her hand and his voice cracked as he spoke. ‘It’s okay, sweetheart. I love you, I’ll always love you, but I can see what this is doing to you. I wish I could change, but I can’t, and it’s been unfair of me to hope that you could either.’

  ‘I wanted to,’ she whispered as tears flowed down her own cheeks. ‘I wanted us so bad that I thought I could accept you however you are, but I can’t. In trying to accept you for who you are, in trying to wrap my head around a new kind of us, I’ve been living as big a lie as you have.’

  Seb squeezed her hand and nodded.

  Although Flick could forgive him for what he’d put her through to get to this point, although she could even support his choice going forward and help him to navigate the rocky path ahead, she could not stay as his wife.

  The time for secrets and lies was over.

  Acknowledgements:

  A massive thanks must go to my faithful and devoted readers, who buy my books, read my books and then go out of their way to send me personal messages. When one of you tells me you have forgone sleep to finish one of my books or that the joy of reading has helped you through a particularly tough time in your life, it makes all the long hours at the keyboard worthwhile and gives me motivation to keep writing.

  I’ve been overwhelmed by the response to my books, but especially my last book, The Patterson Girls, which won the General Fiction category in the 2015 Australian Book Industry Awards. It was such an honour to accept this prestigious award but I have to acknowledge that the success of The Patterson Girls was a team effort. Not only by the wonderful team at Harlequin Australia, but also the wider group of enthusiastic booksellers who got behind the book, and also the bloggers and journalists who wrote thoughtful reviews to help spread the word. You all rock and I can’t thank you enough for your support. Thanks also to the team of wonderful industry professionals who judge the ABIAs.

  As always I’m indebted to the wonderful team at Harlequin Australia for working so hard on my books. It’s truly a team effort but I thank Michelle Laforest and James Kellow, Sue Brockhoff and Cristina Lee for directing it all.

  I’m so privileged to work with Lachlan Jobbins who edits my books and also lucky to have my agent Helen Breitweiser always at the end of an email offering her wisdom and support. Thank you, I would not be without either of you.

  A special thanks to Jaki Arthur (previously of JAM PR) who travelled with me on the tour of The Patterson Girls, made me laugh, kept me sane and coined the term ‘life-lit’, which I think so aptly describes the books previously known as ‘women’s fiction,’ including this one.

  Thanks to Emily Madden for being my travel buddy and, in particular, my New York partner in crime. Thank God you know your way around Google Maps; let’s not mention your mishap on the subway. And also to Sofia Tate, who took us out into real New York and also happily answered my stupid questions while writing about her fabulous home town.

  My friend L-A deserves massive thanks for helping me with the medical jargon, offering information and wisdom, and for gladly reading the medical scenes in this book. Any mistakes are mine, not hers, or creative license.

  Mention must also go to my book club friends for the hilarious conversations we share over wine, which often spark ideas. A part of this story (no spoilers) was inspired by one such discussion.

  And thanks to my writing buddies, who over time have also become some of my best friends. There are now too many of you to mention, but you know who you are! And a special shout out to reader, Bree, who has also bec
ome a good friend on this journey and helps keep me sane (or almost sane) with her Twitter messages.

  Always last but never least, thank you to my family. My long-suffering husband, Craig, who puts up with all sorts of things in the name of my books. To my mum, Barbara, my first reader, biggest supporter and chauffeur of my kids to school in the mornings so I can work when the muse is fresh. And to said kids, who also contribute thoughts and ideas to stories/characters, despite the fact my books are a little old for them and they’d much prefer I wrote about zombie dinosaurs or fart-machines. Maybe one day. Love you all!

  An Excerpt from The Patterson Girls

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  RACHAEL

  JOHNS

  The

  Patterson

  Girls

  OUT NOW

  harlequinbooks.com.au

  Chapter One

  ‘Dad.’ The word slipped from Lucinda Mannolini’s lips on a whisper as she emerged from gate 21 at Adelaide Airport and spotted her father. Her heart squeezed. His standard uniform of black work trousers and checked shirt seemed to hang from his lanky body. In the last six months, he appeared to have gone a little whiter on top. He still stood tall though, his glasses perched on his nose and his arms folded across his chest as he waited amidst a sea of people desperate to claim their loved ones so the holiday season could kick off. Overhead, announcements were being made about delayed flights and missing passengers, but Brian Patterson looked lost in his own little world.

  Thrusting her shoulders back and pushing her chin high to give an air of confidence she didn’t feel, Lucinda slipped into the stream of passengers, approaching a couple so lost in their passionate reunion that they either didn’t care or hadn’t noticed they were holding up the traffic. Once upon a time she and Joe had been like that whenever he returned from his two weeks on the goldfields, but lately, not so much. Pushing that thought away, she stepped around them as Dad rushed forward, his arms wide open for her. Her leather handbag slapped against her back as she flung herself into them and dropped her head against his strong, broad shoulders.