Keeping Secrets Crane

by Cindy Crane

  She was almost purring, struggling to stay in control as she spoke so incredibly normally, hiding the truth behind her call. It hadn’t taken her long. A few hours with Jake and she was already controlling the deceit—lying again, just as she had all those years ago.

  First to her mother and then to her daughter, telling her she was missing her but not missing her at all.

  Chapter 10

  It was a funny old journey home. Frankie had hoped her head would be full of plans for next time she saw Jake. But it wasn’t. She was still unsure of him, maybe more so than when she’d left all those years ago. Because back then she’d blindly taken comfort from his lies. This time round he’d made her no promises.

  When she’d asked him to visit, his face had clouded a little, his eyes haunted. She felt that same tell-tale fear she had twelve years before when he hadn’t answered her letters or they’d been returned ‘to sender.’ And when the metallic voice at the other end of the telephone line announced number unattainable, killing any belief in fairytale endings— and her love for Jake.

  But surely this, this wonderful night they’d spent together, meant more to him than just a shagfest of a reunion?

  Frankie was uncertain, confused. And Jake was playing his cards close to his chest. He wasn’t talking—wasn’t ready to make plans, to make the commitment. Had it been that that had put the final nail in the coffin last time? She’d asked too much of him?

  It had been so long since she’d had sex, she was a little sore. But she didn’t care. She still craved, lusted after and needed Jake more than ever. There was only one other person in the world she loved as much. But it was a mother’s love she felt for Debs, not the all-consuming passion she felt for this man.

  His answer had been slow, careful, and hesitant, and Frankie’s heart had fluttered nervously before its painful thud kicked her hard in the chest. He wasn’t about to make assurances he couldn’t keep.

  “Maybe soon, but there are things I need to do, to sort out first.”

  Her heart started to race. How familiar was that? That’s what he’d said twelve years before. But at least this time round he hadn’t said he’d call her when it was done and that they’d go away together, spending the rest of their lives together.

  What was it that took so long to sort out?

  Fear clamped its icy fingers around her heart. He was going to let her down again. She could sense it, taste it.

  “Are you in some sort of trouble?” she blurted out.

  Jake’s eyes held hers a full three seconds before glancing away, unsure of how to answer. He couldn’t tell her, not yet. He wasn’t ready to destroy the heroic image she had of her successful father, not now that she’d made friends with him and made him part of her life, as well as her daughter’s.

  But he’d find a way. This time he would make things right. He didn’t know how yet, but he would. But she was standing there waiting for an answer, and he couldn’t lie again, so all he said was, “Yes,” and still failed to meet her gaze, struggling with the torrent of emotion going on behind his calm facade.

  Frankie’s heart skipped another beat. She made a wild guess. It wasn’t hard to fathom. “Is it the same trouble that kept you from me before?”

  He didn’t say a thing. His eyes said it all as they finally drew back to hers, unable to keep a lid on it after all.

  She caught him to her, hugging him, unsure whether to be relieved or angry. She begged him to tell her, offering her help.

  Jake buried his face in her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, allowing it to fill his senses, to cram every nook and cranny and relax every tense nerve. He didn’t know how long it would take, and he wanted every sensory receptor in his body to remember her. He wanted to tell her everything, but….

  “Not yet,” he whispered. “But I will tell you. Soon, I promise.”

  And they’d made love one more time, gently, completely, quietly, and a haunting sadness crept over them both as though this could be the last time. Both fought the tightness in their chests as they said their goodbyes.

  And now, back in her little house, with Debs sitting on her bed watching her unpack, a strange unreality descended upon her. It felt as though the whole experience had been nothing more than a dream.

  “So what was it like, seeing all those old friends? Had they changed much?”

  Debs’ curiosity was endearing. She was so bubbly, so excited. It gave Frankie a chance to put him out of her mind, at least for a while.

  “Some had,” she replied, “and not for the better.”

  She blew out her cheeks and popped her eyes, indicating fat bellies with her hands.

  Debs laughed at her joke. “But not all of them?”

  Frankie relaxed her facial muscles and joined in her mirth. “No, not all of them.”

  “And...what about ex-boyfriends?” Debs said slowly, deliberately. She never missed a trick.

  “I’ve told you, there were no ex-boyfriends,” she said pointedly. Her eyes were warning her daughter not to persist. For twelve years she’d never spoken of Jake to anyone. Her parents had despised him, and she wasn’t about to start discussing him with an eleven-year-old whose head was filled with ridiculous ideas of romance.

  But she reckoned without her daughter’s perseverance.

  “Oh come on, Mum. You must have had a boyfriend. You were sixteen when you left. You were seventeen when you had me. We do know about s-e-x these days, you know.” She spelled the word out for her.

  “You know too much,” Frankie mumbled, wishing her daughter would shut up.

  “Well, I hope I’ve got a boyfriend when I’m sixteen.”

  She rolled onto her stomach and propped up her chin in her hands. Her grey-green eyes watched her mother; full of wicked mischief and wisdom far beyond her years.

  Frankie’s heart gave a little lurch, imagining Debs, at sixteen, doing the things she’d done, and then having her heart broken. It didn’t bear thinking about.

  “Sixteen’s a long way off,” she answered obtusely as she turned to the wardrobe, glad she was busy hanging up her jacket and not having to look her daughter in the eye.

  “But there must have been one of them you fancied.” She was unrelenting.

  Fancied!

  Frankie had fancied the pants off Jake. And it had been so easy getting them off for real, just like she had yesterday. Her body tingled at the memory.

  Debs took her momentary hesitation as an affirmative.

  “Yes!” she cried excitedly, sitting up. Her fists raised in a victory salute—result at last. “You did fancy someone. Did you see him at the reunion? What’s he like? Was he…?” She mimicked Frankie’s earlier demonstration of a fat belly.

  Frankie laughed, Jake’s lean, muscular physique very clearly imprinted on her brain, and said, “No, he wasn’t,” before she even realised it.

  Debs squealed at her mother’s affirmation—double result. “Then he’s cute and sexy?”

  Frankie’s mouth fell open, her eyes widening at her daughter’s precociousness.

  “Deborah!” she remonstrated, saving her full name for moments like these. “Children shouldn’t know descriptions like ‘cute and sexy.’”

  “Get real, Mum. This isn’t the Olden Days.”

  Her drama lessons were really paying off. The girl was a budding actress with her penchant for vocalisation and body language, not to mention the twirling of hands and wrists as she performed.

  “I’ll have you know I’m not that old, thank you,” her mother scolded playfully.

  Debs wasn’t about to be drawn into changing the subject.

  “So what’s he like then? I knew there was something different about you when you picked me up from Gran’s.”

  Drama, observation—the child was a budding psychoanalyst too.

  “And how do I look different, may I ask?” Frankie scoffed, and then wished she hadn’t.

  How did you look after nearly twenty-four hours of rampant sex?

&n
bsp; “Happier,” her daughter answered thoughtfully. Her head tilted to one side, taking her mother’s question very seriously.

  It was only a split second before Frankie answered, but in that moment, she knew her daughter was right. But she still tried to deny it and ignore her prying questions.

  “Happier? What do you mean happier? I’m always happy.”

  “I know you are, but this is different—a different happy. Your eyes are really shiny. And your face looks…beautiful.” Her head now tilted the other way.

  Frankie’s eyes were shiny all right, only this time with tears at the girl’s description, knowing she was right.

  She did feel happy, confused still, but happy. Her eyes were brighter, and sparkling, because Jake did for her what no other man could ever do. He made her feel really beautiful because he had eyes for her and no one else.

  She just wished he were here now, with no secrets, and nothing coming between them, just her, Jake and Debs. Because Debs would love him too, she was sure of that.

  Chapter 11

  “So what did you get up to? I bet Nan and Grandad spoilt you rotten.”

  It was about time they spoke about something else. She wanted to savour her memories of Jake, not share them with anyone, least of all an eleven-year-old. There were certain things definitely unsuitable for a child’s ears. And most of what they’d gotten up to fell into that category.

  “Stop changing the subject,” Debs teased, astutely sensing the vibes and wanting to probe further. But, unable to resist telling her mother her news too, she said, “Yes, they did—as usual.” She grinned as she projected her face forwards, getting that bit in before Frankie did. Sometimes parents could be so predictable. “And you’ll never guess what…” She trailed off dramatically, giving vent to her acting credentials again. “Last night they had the biggest row I’ve ever heard.” Her eyes and hands had joined in the drama, fingers and eyeballs stretched to their limits, her lips slowly mouthing every syllable as if to enhance the size of the argument.

  “Really?” That did surprise Frankie. Her parents hardly ever argued. Her mother was so laid back and easy-going, she’d always agreed with everything her father said and did.

  For an easy life , she’d once told her. Her father was far too stubborn and bloody-minded once he got his mind set on something. And Frankie knew that only too well. It was a miracle they were now friends. Especially after the bombshell she’d dropped on them eleven years ago.

  “What was it about?” she asked, curiously.

  “I don’t know, really,” Debs shrugged. “It was after I went to bed. I’d got the TV on. I don’t suppose they thought I could hear. So I turned it down to try to listen better.”

  Frankie suppressed a smile. That was so typical of Debs. But her smile faded as Debs continued.

  “It was a bit scary, actually. I’ve never heard Nan and Grandad shout before, especially in such angry voices. I think it might have been about me staying longer than Grandad wanted. And your name was definitely shouted a few times.”

  “Me?” This was getting weirder. They loved having Debs to stay. “Why? What were they saying?”

  “Well, I don’t think Grandad was very happy I was staying while you swanned off to your party.”

  “Swanned, eh?” Frankie tried to lighten the mood, extending her neck and flapping her arms in huge wing-like fashion. That certainly wasn’t part of her daughter’s vocabulary, so she couldn’t be making it up. In fact, she was taking it all very seriously now and in no mood to laugh at her mother’s antics. She was upset that her grandparents might not have wanted her there. No wonder she’d been so relieved to see her when she picked her up.

  Instead, Debs was forging ahead with the tale. “And that you were…” She paused, rolling her eyes up into her upper lids, as if it would help her remember the detail, the actual words, quoting, “… taking advantage of Nan ’s good nature. And that she’d always been too soft with you.”

  Well, that was a blast from the past. It certainly sounded like the father she remembered from her youth—the one who made her rebel, sneaking from her room late at night when her parents were in bed; the one who’d gone ape-shit when she’d drunk herself silly one night in the precinct, with her tarty, scumbag friends; the one who’d roared with anger and disapproval when she’d used every trick in the book to spend time with Jake and to make love to him at every opportunity. Except, of course, he hadn’t known about that bit—only suspected it.

  Frankie might have been a devil child—his words—but she was annoyed that her daughter should have seen a glimpse of the anger she’d invoked in him all those years back. But she kept it under wraps. Instead she smiled, offering appeasement instead.

  “Your Nan probably told him I’d had too much to drink. Of course he wanted you there. He was annoyed at me, not you. You know what your Grandad’s like about alcohol. He probably thought I’d end up in jail for drunk and disorderly.” She staggered a little on her feet and rolled her eyes around her eye sockets.

  It had the desired effect, and Debs laughed.

  “You didn’t, did you?”

  “Of course not, just a sore head the following day. I think Grandad would have been more annoyed if I’d actually driven home still over the limit.” She gave the girl a hug. “So stop thinking they didn’t want you. They adore you.”

  “That wasn’t all, though,” Debs said, enjoying the comfort of her mother’s arms but desperate to continue her story.

  “No? So what else did you hear?” Frankie straightened. She ought not to be encouraging her to tittle-tattle, but she couldn’t help her curiosity.

  Debs scrunched her face a little. “That’s when it got really bad. Nan went berserk, screaming at Grandad about ruining your life. That you were grown up now and that he should keep his nose out. Leave well alone or something. I turned the TV back up after that. I didn’t want to hear anymore.”

  Frankie drew her close to her again, reassuring her.

  “Poor you,” she murmured sympathetically into the top of her head, kissing her distraught daughter. “Fancy having to listen to that; I think they’d be very embarrassed if they knew you’d overheard them. But grown-ups do have arguments. Grandad probably remembered he didn’t like some of my friends and thought they were going to get me into trouble or something.”

  “Like getting drunk?” Debs lightened the mood herself, stepping back from her mother and giving her a silly grin.

  Frankie grinned back. “Yes, like getting drunk. Nan was probably reminding him that I’ve done the same thing here with Paula a few times.” She forced a chuckle at the memory, very relieved when Debs joined in, happy that her mother was back to explain everything so clearly.

  But then it was Frankie who couldn’t get the image of her parents out of her mind. Debs might have started off full of juicy gossip, but she’d been clearly upset.

  And what was it her mother had said—that her father was ruining her life?

  Now where had she heard that before?

  Twelve years ago, when Frankie herself was screaming the words at him, that he had no right to take his new job and force her to go with them. She wanted to stay where she was, leave school and move in with Jake. But exercising his parental control with a rod of iron, he told her she should be grateful his promotion was taking her away from all the scum she was mixing with, especially that Jake Wilkes, and one day she’d thank him for it.

  If only Jake hadn’t faltered at the final step. Life could have been so different. And for a moment she allowed the memories of young love to wash over her. How they’d complemented each other so well, like two parts of a puzzle destined to fit together perfectly forever.

  Except, of course, it wouldn’t have been so perfect, she reminded herself, as she shrugged off the rose-tinted spectacles

  Oh yes, life would have been different all right: with no house of her own, no business, and no education. She’d have probably spent a few years popping out babies, because back
then, she’d loved the idea of having Jake’s babies.

  And then, doubtless, Jake would have abandoned her after all, she thought bitterly. Didn’t he confess to having a failed marriage behind him? His ex might have been playing away, but he’d never said what he’d been up to. He probably never noticed her carryings on because he was busy shagging someone else too.

  She’d have been a fool to expect more. It was only her rampaging hormones clouding reality. Seeing Jake again had stirred up feelings she’d long thought laid to rest.

  Nevertheless the argument continued to gnaw at her, preying on her mind, even when she slipped beneath the covers that night. Why should her parents get into a row over her again, after all these years? It was all in the past, finished with. She’d have to speak to her mother: she wanted to know why she was accusing her father of ruining her life now. Because, if she remembered correctly, back then, her mother only made soft, comforting noises in an attempt to alleviate her misery. As usual, she had agreed wholeheartedly with her father, backing him up and cowtowing to his demands. She’d remained the dutiful wife, refusing to make any compromise, conceding to her husband’s wishes, while Frankie’s life was falling down round her ears.

  She’d never realised, until now, just how weak her mother was. She’d never stood up for herself, nor for Frankie. In fact, she wasn’t laid-back and easy-going at all. And suddenly, Frankie was reminded of just what a bully her father had really been.

  And maybe still was.

  Chapter 12

  Well, the funny old journey home turned into a funny old week all round.

  Debs continued to chip away relentlessly for information, wanting to know everything about this man her mother had met at the reunion. Frankie tried to satisfy her curiosity by saying they got on really well together. And that they had a lot in common.