The Cold Hard Truth: A Gripping Novel About Secrets and Lies

by Amanda Leigh Cowley

  I watch her for a moment, letting this new information sink in. Then I slide my chair closer to hers and offer her a napkin to wipe her tears. “I didn’t know,” I whisper. “I’m sorry, Harrie. I had no idea.”

  She sniffs. “Is that why you’ve been a bit cold towards me? Because you thought I was happy to leave you all those years ago?”

  I shrug. “I guess I’ve been so wrapped up in being the victim; the one who was hard done by, I never stopped to think how bad it must have been for you.”

  She wipes the napkin under her eyes and then inspects it for make-up. “Well, Mom pretty much screwed us both up, didn’t she?”

  Chapter 11

  I didn’t sleep well last night. I couldn’t stop thinking about how Rachel acted in the restaurant and how hard she was on Harriet. It’s not that I was surprised by her attitude. I’ve got first-hand experience of how selfish she can be. And how dismissive. It’s just that I’ve never seen her behave like that towards Harriet before. I thought those two were as thick as thieves. Last night made me realise how hard Harriet works at their relationship. And how lucky Rachel is to have her. I make a mental note to be more supportive to Harriet from now on. It’s the least I can do.

  Lois puts a tray of Danish pastries in front of me. “Try one,” she says. “They’re delicious. Even if I do say it myself.”

  I take one of the golden pastries and bite into the flaky, buttery shell.

  “Oh my God.” I wipe crumbs from the side of my mouth. “Lois, this is amazing.”

  She nods proudly. “I know. Make sure you eat it all up. You could do with some more meat on your bones, girl”.

  “Well it won’t take long if you keep feeding me stuff like this, will it?”

  “Save one for me,” Riley says, as he walks past. He’s hugging cardboard to his chest, presumably on his way out to the recycling bin.

  I watch him go, wondering again about his uneven gait. “Lois,” I say, once he’s out of earshot. “Why does Riley walk with a limp?”

  “Oh that?” Her face darkens. “He got attacked. It was about a year ago, outside some bar. He got beaten up pretty bad.”

  “That’s awful.” My hand automatically finds the scar through my long-sleeved top.

  Lois moves closer. “There was two of them. They gave him a broken nose, concussion and smashed his kneecap.”

  “Poor Riley.”

  “Luckily Nate was at the same bar. Riley says he saved his life that night. He rushed outside when he heard what was happening and fought them off. God knows what would’ve happened if he didn’t stop them when he did.”

  “Did Riley bring charges against whoever did it?”

  “No. No one got arrested. Nate couldn’t chase after them because Riley was in such a state.”

  I shake my head slowly.

  “Riley knew who was responsible though.”

  “Someone he knew?”

  She nods “Nate was livid with Riley when he found out who it was and the reason behind it.”

  I frown, waiting for her to tell me.

  She dips her voice. “They were dealers and Riley owed them money for drugs.”

  “Oh.”

  “He’s pretty open about it. He said he’d lost his way back then, got in with the wrong crowd and started using some heavy stuff.” She raises her hands and adjusts the band on her ponytail. “He doesn’t use now. Nate got him clean and away from those kind of people. I think that’s why Nate likes him living and working here … so he can keep an eye on him. Nate saved Riley’s life in more ways than one that night.”

  “So apart from his limp, is he okay now?”

  “Yeah, he’s fine.”

  I nod. “I’m glad. I’d hate to think he was still involved in anything like that. I’ve got a lot of time for Riley.”

  She gives me a shy smile. “I’ve got a lot of time for Riley, too.”

  I do a double take. There’s a twinkle in her eye and the longer I study her, the redder her cheeks get.

  “Oh, you mean you like him a lot, don’t you?”

  She nods. “He’s completely oblivious. I drop hints all the time but either he’s a bit slow on the uptake, or he’s really not interested and he’s just being polite.”

  “I think you need to hint a bit harder, because I had no idea either. How long have you liked him, like that?”

  She grins. “Since the first day he started working at the café, about nine months ago. I know he comes across as this confident, funny guy, but when Nate first introduced us, he could barely string a sentence together when he was alone with me. I liked that. It made him seem vulnerable and cute.”

  I smile. “I can’t imagine Riley being like that. You two get along so well. You never run out of things to say to each other.”

  She raises her eyebrows. “That’s the problem. I used to think he liked me. Now I’m worried in case he’s moved on and I’m in the friend zone.”

  I nudge her with my elbow. “Well, you need to do something about it then.”

  She shrugs. “What if he’s not interested? Work would be so awkward.”

  I know exactly how that feels.

  “But what if he is interested and you never find out?”

  Lois frowns for a moment and then a look of determination settles on her face. She takes a deep breath. “You know what? You’re right. I need to step up my game. There’s a sunset beach party next Friday night. That might be the perfect opportunity to make my move.”

  “Really? You’re definitely going to go for it?”

  She bites her lip. “Maybe.”

  “Lois….”

  “Guess what?” she says, raising her voice. “You’re coming too.”

  “What?” It takes me a minute to catch up with the change in direction. “Oh, no, I don’t think so.”

  “You have to. It’s only across the street. You’ll love it, Em.” She puts her hands on her hips. “Besides, I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  Riley walks back in and stops by her side, having caught the last sentence, and oblivious to the fact the rest of the conversation was about him. “I’m not taking no for an answer, either. Come along, Em. What have you got to lose?”

  My body sags. “Can I think about it?”

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Lois says and high-fives Riley.

  “Hey, I’m not promising anything.”

  The grin on her face tells me she thinks I already have. I shake my head and walk over to the store-room before I commit to something I’m going to regret.

  I enter the room at the same time Nate enters from the outside door. The breeze of the ocean follows him in.

  His face lights up when he sees me. “Hey, Emily. What are you up to?” he asks, pulling the door shut after him.

  “Hi, Nate.” I smile at him. “I just came in to get some tea towels.”

  His brow creases. “Some what?”

  “Tea towels.” I grab one off the side. “These.”

  “Ha.” He reaches a hand out for me to throw it to him. “We call these dish towels.”

  “Oh, right.” I take another one off the shelf, hold it by the corner and twist it absentmindedly. “I’ve heard Rach…. my mom call them that before.

  His eyes fix onto the towel in my hand and widen. “You appear to be turning that towel into a weapon, Miss Everett.”

  I look at the dangling piece of material and then back at him. “Oh. It’s a habit of mine. Sorry.”

  His lips form a crooked smile. “What are you? Some sort of towel Jedi?”

  I laugh. “Maybe. When I need to be....”

  He grins wickedly. “Well I happen to be quite handy myself. How about I challenge you to a duel?”

  I study him for a moment, trying to work out if he’s serious. His eyes are alight with mischief as he starts twisting his own towel into a weapon and positions himself sideways to me, as if we’re about to take part in a fencing match.

  “You don’t scare me,” I say, feeling courageous in
front of him for the first time.

  “Is that right?” He winks. “What about when I do this?” He flicks his towel to the side and it makes a loud snapping sound.

  I stifle a giggle and shake my head. “Nope. Still not scared.”

  He takes a couple of paces towards me but then his cell phone, sitting in his back pocket, jumps to life and breaks his concentration. He leans forward as he retrieves it and I take my chance, raising my hand and flicking my towel at him. It catches him on the butt and makes the desired sound. He twists around, pulling a horrified face while he rubs the point where the towel made contact. He can’t say anything because he’s already picked up the call.

  I grab some more towels off the shelf and retreat out of the store room and back to the serving counter. I smile to myself as I start to unload the dishwasher. It’s a couple of minutes before Nate appears by my side.

  “Sooo,” he says, throwing his towel on the counter. “You like to play dirty, huh?”

  I grin. “No guts, no glory.”

  He studies me for a moment and his expression turns serious. “I think I might have a problem with you working here.”

  My smile drops. Shit. I’ve completely misjudged the situation. I’ve only been in this job five minutes and I’ve whacked the boss on his backside. What the hell was I thinking?

  He steps closer and drops his voice so only I can hear. “And that problem is how much you distract me.”

  Chapter 12

  I pour two coffees from the machine in Rachel’s kitchen, loop my fingers through the handles and carry them upstairs. I tap the bottom of Harriet’s door with my foot and then pull the handle down with my elbow. The door swings open, revealing Harriet lying on her bed with her phone held aloft. She spots the coffee and grins, pulling herself into a sitting position.

  I raise a mug in the air. “I made one for you. Do you want it?”

  “Sure, thanks.” She looks so happy at this simple gesture, I feel a pang of guilt that I haven’t done it before.

  I walk over and place it down on the ring-marked unit beside her bed. Then I look at the clutter all over her sheets. “Is it okay if I sit down?”

  She grabs a pile of washing and dumps it on the floor before patting the bed. “Of course. You don’t have to ask.”

  Holding my coffee aloft, I carefully lower myself next to her and then tuck my legs into a cross-legged position.

  “So, what are you up to?” I ask, taking a small sip of my drink.

  “Nothing much.” She waves her arms around indicating the mess. “I was going to have a sort out in here, but I got distracted by Instagram, as usual.”

  I smile.

  “You haven’t got an account, have you?” she asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t really do social media, it’s not my kind of thing.” I’ve never understood the fascination with it all. I see it as a tedious popularity contest; people portraying an enhanced version of their lives, using filters to blur out anything they don’t want other people to see.

  Or maybe the real reason I don’t like social media is because my life is so far from perfect right now, I find it painful seeing all those happy, smiley photos.

  She laughs. “You are a strange one, Emily.”

  I shrug.

  “Oh well, each to their own. How’s life at O’Shea’s. Are you still enjoying it?”

  I nod, the corners of my mouth turning up as I remember the towel fight.

  “And how about that boss of yours?” She asks, studying me. “Do you see much of him?”

  “A bit,” I say. “But mostly he’s out or working upstairs. I spend most of my time with Lois and Riley, his brother.”

  The skin puckers between her eyebrows. “Is Riley anything like Nate?”

  “Well, they look alike, if that’s what you mean….”

  “I mean is he flirty like Nate?”

  I sigh. “What is this, Harriet, the Spanish Inquisition?”

  She laughs. “Sorry. I can’t help feeling protective of my little sis. Maybe it’s because Mom’s not that maternal; I have this inner need to step in and make sure you’re okay.”

  I smile, a pocket of warmth spreading inside. “I’m fine, Harriet. Nate and Riley are good people. You honestly don’t need to worry about me. O’Shea’s Place is like a breath of fresh air. When I’m working there, it gives me a break from thinking about anything else; all the crap that’s gone on.”

  She nods. “That’s good to hear, Em. Really. I’m pleased for you.”

  I run my finger around the rim of my mug before taking a deep breath. “Harriet, I think we need to talk about Rachel.”

  She tenses and her eyes fix onto her mug.

  “You need to tell me what’s going on with her.”

  She frowns and looks back up. “I wish you wouldn’t call her Rachel. It’s like a slap in the face every time you say it.”

  I ignore her and sit up straighter. “Why did she act the way she did in the restaurant the other night?”

  She doesn’t say anything so I attempt to spur her on. “Because you said she wasn’t drunk. And then you said something about ‘that’s not what just happened here.’ So, that lead me to think something specific had happened, but then you never got round to telling me what it was.”

  She purses her lips and blows out a deep breath. “She was having one of her episodes.” Her eyebrows turn up at the middle. “Come on, Em. Haven’t you worked it out yet? You must have noticed the wild mood swings she has?”

  “Well ... yeah, but that’s not unusual for her, is it? She’s always been a bit like that as far as I can remember.”

  “And what about the way she flies from one idea to the next? The ridiculous plans she comes up with?”

  “Harriet, you’re starting to worry me now.” I lean across her to put my mug down on the bedside table. Then I sit back with my fingers linked together. “What on earth’s wrong with her?”

  Harriet mumbles something.

  “She has what?”

  She meets my eye and speaks clearly. “It’s called borderline personality disorder.”

  I test the words on my lips. I’ve heard of the condition before but I only have a vague idea of what it is.

  “Think about it,” Harriet continues. “How one minute she can be happy and upbeat and then within the blink of an eye she changes and becomes angry, or anxious about something.”

  “A lot of people have mood swings. Are you sure….”

  “You’ve already noticed she drinks too much. That’s related to the condition. And she has these impulses to do reckless stuff.”

  “Such as….”

  “She’ll go on wild shopping sprees and spend thousands of dollars on clothes she doesn’t even wear. And there’s other stuff, too. Worse stuff.” Her jaw tightens. “She puts herself at risk.”

  My head starts to spin. “What does she do?”

  She looks down. “She goes out and meets random men.” When she looks back her eyes are filled with such sadness my heart does an involuntary squeeze.

  I sit quiet for a moment, allowing the information to sink in.

  “I had no idea,” I whisper. I can’t think of anything else to say.

  “She’s been like this since forever. She was diagnosed back in London as bipolar, but we now know it’s borderline personality disorder.”

  I shake my head, unable to get my head around what she’s telling me.

  “Don’t you remember when we were young?” she carries on. “How she used to go off on those mini-breaks?”

  “Yes….”

  “That was whenever her illness got out of hand and she had to be admitted for treatment.”

  “I didn’t know,” I say again. “Surely there’s some sort of therapy or medication she can take to control it?”

  Harriet rolls her eyes. “Dominic’s paid for her to have all sorts of therapy; cognitive behavioural therapy, schema-focussed therapy, dialectical
behaviour therapy … you name it, she’s tried it. They prescribe Lithium for her to try and stabilise her moods. It does help, but she doesn’t always remember to take it. Not unless I remind her.

  I press the heel of my hand to my forehead. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? Dad never said anything.”

  Harriet raises her eyebrows. “I think he tried to protect you from it, Em. It was only when we moved here and he wasn’t around that I realised how bad she was.”

  She tilts her head from side-to-side, stretching out her neck. “Her illness is part of the reason she ended up with Dominic. It was another one of the crazy plans she hatched during an impulsive phase. Of course, after we lived here for a couple of months, she realised she’d made a huge mistake and wanted to go back to the only man she ever really loved; Mike. She wrote to him and asked him if you two would move over here as originally planned, but Mike said no. Then she asked if we could come back and live with you guys in London instead, and he told her outright, he didn’t trust her and he didn’t love her anymore. Well, she can’t really cope with rejection so that nearly flipped her over the edge.”

  I chew the inside of my cheek. I can’t believe Dad didn’t tell me any of this.

  “Luckily for Mom, Dominic is rich and infatuated with her. He’ll do anything to keep her in his life. After he found out she contacted Mike, he bought her this house and the salon for her to run because he was so terrified she’d leave him and head back to the UK.”

  I shake my head softly.

  Harriet reaches out and puts a hand on my arm. “Please don’t hate her, Em. She’s not a bad person. She just has a bad illness.”

  I think about that for a moment and look back at Harriet. “When she takes her medication, how is she?”

  “Different. Calmer.”

  “Right, so what I don’t understand, what I’m struggling to get my head around is, when she was on meds, all those times when she was different and calmer, why didn’t she get in touch with me then?”

  Harriet takes a deep breath. “Come with me.” She hops off the bed and reluctantly, I follow her to Rachel’s bedroom door.