It Started with a Secret: The feel-good novel of the year, from the bestselling author of MAYBE THIS TIME

by Jill Mansell

  ‘Just a few.’ Richard’s wink encompassed Majella and Dawn. ‘Don’t worry, we can open another bottle now you’re back.’

  ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ said Lainey. ‘It’s been a busy few days and I’m pretty shattered.’

  ‘Oh no, you can’t go yet,’ Dawn protested. ‘Stay for one drink at least. Come on, sit down next to me . . . How did everything go?’ She was looking sleek and lovely in a sleeveless amber slip dress and elegant tan sandals that Lainey had seen online as worn by celebrities. They cost over three hundred pounds.

  Richard, who could move with alacrity when he wanted to, had already poured out a fizzing glass of Prosecco and was pressing it into Lainey’s hand. ‘There you are, my angel, get that down you.’

  ‘And have some of these.’ On her feet now, Majella slid a dish of tortilla chips and dips across the table. ‘Were the boys OK? I hope you didn’t have any trouble.’

  ‘They were fine. Bit lively,’ said Lainey with a smile, ‘but nothing we couldn’t handle.’

  ‘Does anything in here need to go in the fridge?’ Majella started to unpack the picnic bag. ‘Ooh, flapjacks, my favourite.’ She tipped them onto a plate, then lifted out a bottle of orange juice. ‘And what’s this?’

  As she’d reached for the road map, pushed down one side of the bag, it had fallen open to reveal Ned’s drawing. Lainey’s heart skipped a beat, because Dawn was sitting next to her, leaning in and giving her a nudge.

  ‘Listen.’ Dawn’s mouth was close to her ear, her voice a discreet whisper. ‘Seth told me you overheard a bit of our phone conversation on Friday, and I just wanted to apologise. I was being ridiculous. Of course I don’t think anything would ever happen between the two of you. I’m so sorry if you were embarrassed.’

  ‘I wasn’t,’ Lainey murmured while Richard launched into a picnic-related story involving Jack Nicholson and a squirrel. Poor Dawn, she was a lovely woman who had no idea that by next weekend her plans of a future with Seth would lie in tatters. ‘Honestly, don’t worry, it’s fine.’

  ‘This is so sweet,’ Majella exclaimed, gazing at the drawing that Ned had torn out of his notebook.

  ‘What is it?’ said Dawn. ‘Let’s have a look.’

  Richard continued blithely. ‘. . . And when he woke up, there was the squirrel, sitting on his chest . . .’

  ‘The last time you told us this story,’ said Seth, ‘it was an iguana.’

  Without missing a beat, Richard waved his glass. ‘No, no, the iguana situation was with Roger Moore.’

  ‘Oh, so sweet.’ Dawn’s voice was extra bright as she took in the details of Ned’s drawing, passed over to her by Majella. ‘Look at that, all five of you together!’

  ‘Ned made us hold hands like that,’ Lainey blurted out. ‘We didn’t want to, but he forced us to, didn’t he?’ She turned to Seth and nodded vigorously. ‘Trust me, once Ned’s made up his mind about something, there’s no arguing with him.’

  ‘It’s OK.’ Next to her, Dawn smiled and gave her arm a reassuring pat. ‘No need to panic, I believe you. Please don’t think you have to explain everything.’

  ‘Lainey taught him how to make paper dolls,’ Seth said easily. ‘That’s why he wanted us holding hands like that.’

  ‘Really, don’t worry.’ Dawn beamed up at him. ‘It’s a lovely drawing. He’s so talented.’

  ‘I haven’t seen it properly yet.’ Seth held out his hand and Dawn picked the sheet of paper up to pass it over to him. Noticing something written on the other side, she paused to read it.

  ‘Let me guess, one of his lists,’ Lainey said with a grin. ‘Ned really loves a list!’

  Then her grin faded, because Dawn was holding the torn-out sheet of paper in front of her. And there, in Ned’s slow, deliberate handwriting, were the words:

  1. Pigs at two o’clock.

  2. Leave the house at ten to two o’clock.

  3. Lainey isn’t Seth’s girlfriend, they just sleep together.

  Lainey’s blood ran cold. ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘No, really, no need to say a word.’ Dawn’s voice was brittle and almost painfully high-pitched. ‘It’s fine.’

  Chapter 23

  Seth was seconds away from finishing with Dawn when his mobile beeped, signalling the arrival of a text from his mother: I need to speak to you about something very important. Call me ASAP, PLEASE.

  This was because he’d switched his phone off earlier and hadn’t replied to her voicemail, sent while she’d been enjoying lunch at a restaurant on the beach in Marbella. Clearly having a good time, and with the sounds of chattering voices and clinking glasses in the background, she had launched into a rambling story about how she’d just bumped into an old friend and it was the biggest coincidence and honestly, wasn’t it incredible that there were, like, billions and billions of people in the world but here they were sitting on a restaurant balcony and who should be walking past but Shelley, who used to go out with this crazy Greek guy back when they’d shared a flat together, across from the Blackjack Club on Wardour Street, remember?

  Which was why Seth hadn’t bothered returning the call, what with the infamous Blackjack Club having been closed down before he was born.

  He turned his phone off again, because the something very important his mother was bursting to tell him was most likely that allegedly hilarious story about the time she and Shelley had swum naked in a hotel pool in Antibes, got into a drunken row with the unamused owner of the hotel and ended up getting themselves arrested. Basically, Seth had heard it all before.

  And at that moment he had a rather more pressing situation to deal with. It wasn’t something he was looking forward to, but it had to be done.

  They’d walked back to Dawn’s cottage together in silence; this was a task that couldn’t be carried out amid the chaos of Menhenick House. Now she passed him a coffee and said, ‘You’ve still got your shoes on. Aren’t you going to take them off?’

  Seth shook his head. ‘I’m not staying.’

  ‘But I want you to stay.’

  ‘We need to talk.’ Such a cliché.

  Her eyes pleaded with him. ‘Have I said anything about what was written on the back of that drawing? No I haven’t, even though I could.’

  ‘Nothing happened,’ Seth reiterated. ‘We explained what Ned meant when he wrote it.’

  ‘And I said I believed you,’ Dawn replied, despite patently not believing him for a second.

  ‘Anyway. None of that has anything to do with what I need to say now. I just feel we should cool things off.’ He stirred his coffee, even though she’d already stirred it for him. ‘It’s been great, and you’re great, but I think we’d be better off as friends.’

  A muscle was twitching in her temple. ‘Do you? Why, though?’ She spread her hands. ‘What have I done wrong?’

  Seth exhaled; how he hated it when this happened. It was so much easier when the hint was gracefully taken. Then again, solicitors liked to argue; it was in their nature not to give up without a fight.

  ‘You haven’t done anything wrong. I just feel as if . . . something’s missing.’

  ‘Nothing,’ Dawn said slowly, ‘is missing. Trust me.’

  ‘It’s not you.’

  ‘And it’s not you either. We’re perfect together and you know it. Everyone knows it.’ Her gaze was unwavering. ‘They keep telling me.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I suppose Lainey threw herself at you. That’s the thanks I get for trying to help her out.’

  ‘She didn’t throw herself at me,’ said Seth. ‘She fell asleep on the sofa.’

  ‘Oh of course she did, of course it wasn’t all part of her carefully laid plan.’

  ‘There was no plan, there was no throwing involved. And this isn’t helping. Look, it’s entirely my fault. I told you before, I don’t have much of an attention span when it comes to relationships . . . It’s just the way I am.’

  ‘But I love you.’ A trace of desperation was creeping into her voice n
ow.

  He shook his head. ‘I think you loved the idea of me. I seemed to fit the bill, that’s all.’

  ‘Is it because I’m too old for you?’

  ‘No, it’s not that at all. Your age isn’t an issue for me.’ And it wasn’t, he genuinely meant that. ‘But you talked about wanting children. You clearly do want them. Children are great,’ he added, ‘but I’m not ready for them yet.’

  ‘Men think that all the time, but when the babies come along, they fall in love with them.’

  ‘I need to concentrate on building up the business.’

  ‘For how many more years?’

  ‘I don’t know how many more years.’

  ‘So by the time you’re ready to think about babies, I’ll be too old to give them to you.’

  Seth felt sorry for her; it couldn’t be easy for any woman in her situation.

  ‘Oh God.’ Dawn sat back and gestured impatiently at the carpet beneath the coffee table. ‘I wish you’d never picked up my driver’s licence.’

  ‘I’d have found out eventually,’ said Seth.

  For the first time, even as tears swam in her eyes, she managed a wry smile. ‘I was kind of hoping that by the time you found out, you’d be so in love with me it’d be too late.’

  As she showed him to the front door, she added sadly, ‘We’d have had beautiful babies.’

  ‘That’s true, especially if they looked like you.’

  Her gaze searched his face. ‘How about if I freeze my eggs?’

  What could he do? What could he say? He looked at her and shook his head fractionally.

  ‘OK, forget I said that, it was just a joke. The fact remains that you aren’t going to find anyone better than me.’ She straightened her spine and gave him one of her confident smiles. ‘You might think you can, but you really can’t. Then again, maybe you just need a bit of space to get your thoughts in order.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Seth let this go; it clearly hadn’t been a joke, but he was also keen to make his escape.

  ‘And maybe you also need a few weeks to get . . . her out of your system. And yes,’ she nodded calmly, ‘I’m talking about Lainey.’

  Seth said, ‘You’ve got it wrong.’

  ‘Come on, I’m not an idiot. I can read you like a book. But if stepping back and letting it happen is what it takes, I’m prepared to go along with that.’ Reaching up, Dawn planted a fleeting kiss on his cheek, an inch from his mouth. ‘Then once it’s over and you realise she was just another run-of-the-mill fling after all, you’ll know you can come back to me.’

  Lainey was standing on a stool, energetically cleaning the kitchen windows from the outside, when she heard footsteps crunching across the gravel behind her.

  ‘Hello again,’ said Christina. ‘How are you? So sorry, I’ve forgotten your name . . . I’m here to see Seth.’

  ‘It’s Lainey. And I’m good, thanks.’ She hesitated. ‘But Seth isn’t here. He’s gone to see a client in Truro.’

  ‘Has he? Oh what a pain! Never mind, I’ll just hang around until he turns up. Who else is here at the moment?’

  ‘No one, I’m afraid. Well, Majella’s up in the office, but she’s pretty busy.’ Lainey felt the need to say it before Christina could insist on whisking Majella off somewhere for lunch. ‘The kids are at school and Kit’s driven Richard up to an event in Oxford.’

  ‘Ah well. No worries, I can keep myself occupied.’ Christina beamed at her. ‘What time will Seth be back?’

  Lainey checked her watch. ‘Well, it’s midday now and he left at ten, so he’ll probably be another hour or so. Would you like me to call and let him know you’re here?’

  Was there a reason for Christina’s confusion? Because while Lainey had been clearing away the breakfast things this morning, she’d heard Seth take the call from his mother and he’d definitely told her he had a meeting in Truro at eleven.

  ‘No need, it’s fine. I’m happy to wait.’

  Lainey said, ‘I think he was expecting to see you a bit later this afternoon . . . He mentioned you’d be here around three.’

  ‘Did he?’ Christina shrugged. ‘Maybe he did say three and I forgot. Anyway, what could be nicer than sitting out in the garden with a glass of wine? Don’t worry about me, you just carry on with your work. I know my way to the fridge!’

  By half past one, Lainey had finished the windows, made a chicken and ham pie and put it in the oven to bake. Glancing outside every so often, she saw Christina stretched out on Majella’s favourite sunlounger on the back lawn, spending a rather more relaxing ninety minutes deepening her already impressive tan, playing on her phone and steadily making her way through a bottle of Pinot Gris.

  Ah well, all right for some.

  Remembering that she was yet to tackle the poster-paint stain on the pale green carpet in Harry’s bedroom, she headed upstairs with an armful of cleaning tools and prepared to do battle with the mess that had only worsened after Harry had attempted to clear it up himself. His room smelled of chocolate, dried mud and small boy, and when she knelt down, she spotted odd socks and discarded Quality Street wrappers stuffed under the bed along with cricket pads, toast crusts, a table tennis bat and a broken snorkel.

  The task wasn’t an easy one and she spent some time loosening the stain before soaking up as much of the bright blue paint as possible with damp kitchen towels. At one stage she heard what sounded like India’s bedroom door being opened, but India was at school, so it had to be one of the dogs.

  It wasn’t until several minutes later, upon hearing a clatter and a muffled curse, that Lainey rose to her feet and peered out of Harry’s window. Both the sunlounger and the wine bottle – upturned in its ice bucket – were empty.

  Was Christina all right? Had she fallen somewhere in the house and hurt herself? Leaving the bedroom, Lainey made her way barefoot along the landing and heard more noises coming from the bathroom further down on the right: a persistently creaking floorboard followed seconds later by a loud plasticky clunk.

  Lainey paused. OK, this was awkward. The bathroom door was mostly but not completely closed. If she called out and Christina was sitting on the loo having a wee, it would be embarrassing. But she couldn’t creep away, because what if the woman was unwell and in need of help?

  Moving silently closer, she reluctantly looked through the gap in the doorway, then did a double take. Because there was Christina leaning against the marble-topped sink, wrestling to get the brush off Violet’s electric toothbrush.

  Lainey blinked. Why on earth was she doing that? Surely she hadn’t been using the toothbrush; if she had, the sound of it would have been audible.

  The brush head came off at last, and Christina pulled a plastic sandwich bag from her jeans pocket and dropped it inside, which made even less sense than—

  ‘Wah!’ Lainey let out a squeal of shock as something brushed against her heel. The next moment, a furry body slid past her bare ankle and she realised that whilst she’d been spying on Christina, Radley the silent assassin had been spying on her.

  Thanks a lot, cat.

  Chapter 24

  ‘Who’s there? What’s going on?’ Equally startled, Christina dropped the sandwich bag into the sink as she spun round.

  Lainey clutched her chest. ‘I didn’t know Radley was behind me and he caught me by surprise. I came to see if you were OK; I was worried about you.’ She flushed at the semi-lie, then looked from the headless electric toothbrush to the transparent plastic bag in the sink. ‘What are you doing?’

  Because there were some questions you just had to ask.

  Christina was shaking her head, casting around for inspiration. Finally she swallowed and said accusingly, ‘You aren’t a mother, you don’t know how it feels. Wait till you have children, then you’ll understand.’

  Lainey stared at her. ‘I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean.’

  ‘I miss Seth! How often do I get to see my son? Not very often at all. And I miss him so much . . . so I just thoug
ht it would be nice to have his toothbrush as a keepsake, to remind me of him when we’re apart.’

  It was the worst lie in the history of lies, which kind of went to show the nonsense you could come up with when you had an entire bottle of wine inside you. Even Christina had the grace to look ashamed. Lainey glanced at the unzipped quilted leather shoulder bag sitting on the window ledge and saw something poking out of it. She pointed. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  But she was already crossing the bathroom, beating Christina to it and plucking out a second sandwich bag. Inside this one, a small bird’s nest of hair was clearly visible.

  ‘You went into India’s room. That’s her hair, taken from her hairbrush.’

  ‘I . . . I thought it was Seth’s.’

  ‘It’s purple,’ said Lainey.

  ‘Well keep it, then. I didn’t realise. You can have it back.’

  Lainey looked at the two electric toothbrushes lined up next to the sink, the bright pink one on the left and the headless black one on the right.

  ‘Seth has an en suite,’ she said. ‘He doesn’t use this bathroom. That black toothbrush belongs to Violet.’

  Christina’s narrow shoulders slumped. ‘Oh for fuck’s sake. Why can’t anything ever go to plan?’

  ‘Let’s go downstairs.’ Lainey gestured to the bathroom door. ‘Come on, I’ll make you a coffee.’

  ‘Don’t bother. I may as well just leave.’ Christina picked up her shoulder bag and took out her phone. ‘I’ll call a taxi.’

  Downstairs, the front door opened and slammed shut, and they heard a volley of barks as the dogs greeted the latest arrival with delight.

  ‘That’s Seth,’ said Lainey.

  ‘OK, this is important.’ Christina clutched her arm. ‘Can you please not tell him about this?’

  Lainey fitted the head back onto Violet’s toothbrush, then dropped the bundle of purple hair into the loo and pulled the flush. She followed Christina down the staircase and they found Seth in the kitchen, taking a fresh box of coffee pods out of the cupboard.