The Keeper of Secrets (5 page)

She pulled the first bin bag towards her. It was full of the clutter she had emptied from the writing bureau. She was going to be methodical, she was going to be thorough and she wouldn't leave until she found what she was looking for, whatever that might be.

‘You're not still there, are you? Have you seen the time?' Rick asked. ‘Elle, you're going to be late for Charlie if you don't get a move on. Christ, do I have to do everything for you? The whole point of using a clearance company was so you wouldn't have to bother. Let go and leave it to the professionals. I don't suppose they've uncovered any hidden gems? Did they make an offer?'

Elle had the phone wedged on her shoulder so she could carry on wading through the paperwork. She had emptied four bags so far, sorting their contents into neat piles. She wasn't paying attention to Rick, who had shown not even the slightest sign of wanting to hear what she had to say anyway. It was only as the phone went silent that she realized she had missed her cue to reply. ‘Sorry?'

‘What did the clearance company say?' Rick said, losing patience.

‘Tony's gone away to work up a quote, but he did warn me that there wouldn't be enough income to cover the disposal costs.'

‘Oh, it's Tony now, is it? It's a shame you couldn't use your womanly wiles to get a decent quote. I knew I shouldn't have left it to you. I'll give him a ring and see what I can do.'

‘I promised I'd have all the clutter cleared out, so that will make it a bit cheaper. That's what I've been doing,' she said, wincing at the lie. ‘It'll take a few trips, but it's not impossible.'

‘The sooner this gets sorted, the better,' he muttered to himself. ‘Anyway, it's time you got going.'

Elle looked at her watch. She was cutting it fine but she could manage another ten minutes before leaving to pick up Charlie. ‘Yes, I'll leave now.'

The piles of bills and brochures were returned to a bin bag along with the collection of old manufacturers' instruction booklets and guarantees that had long since expired. The pool of potential clues was shrinking by the second and time was running out, for today at least. She looked at the stack of greetings cards she had balanced on her knee and frowned. Was there anyone left in the family who might know more? She flicked open each one in quick succession before discarding it onto the floor. Birthday cards, get well cards, sympathy cards. Most names she recognized and dismissed and the ones she didn't offered scant clues to their full identity so she dismissed these too. The one from Corinne was slipping from her fingers before she realized what she was doing. She scrambled to the floor to pick it up again. Her dad's secret love had sent him a card shortly after her mum died, explaining she had seen the obituary in the
Liverpool Echo
and offering her sympathies but also reopening a door to the past. On the back of the card she had added her contact details in handwriting that was smaller and a little shakier than the script of her youth but immediately recognizable nonetheless. More questions flooded her mind until she felt she might drown in them.

It was probably a blessing that there was no time to consider the implications of the card's appearance. Elle didn't trust herself to make sense of it all on her own. She needed to talk it through with someone and there was only one person left in her life who would give an honest opinion and help her see what was staring her in the face.

Elle was upstairs getting ready. After the week she'd had, she was looking forward to a night out with the girls. The girls in question were Angie's friends rather than hers but she had been accepted into the group and was determined that it should stay that way. It wasn't as if they got up to anything too wild. More often than not they would go to a nice restaurant for tea followed by a few drinks in the pub. Occasionally there was talk of going on to a nightclub but Elle was always ready for home by then.

She slipped into her dress, listening out for signs of life downstairs. Rick was keeping Charlie occupied and he wasn't happy. There was no longer any professional benefit to be had from Elle socializing with the soon-to-be-ex-wife of his well-connected colleague.

The knot of anxiety in her stomach tightened as the time to leave drew nearer. She was half expecting to hear Charlie rush upstairs and beg his mummy not to abandon him. She wouldn't put it past Rick to wind him up deliberately and it wouldn't take much to upset her troubled baby. Bedtime was approaching.

Feeling like a naughty schoolgirl sneaking out without permission, she checked herself in the mirror. Her black dress was tight fitting to show off her slender figure but had a high neckline; she knew better than to even attempt to leave the house flaunting her sexuality. Her blonde curls were piled up on top of her head and her makeup was understated. She draped a silk pashmina around her shoulders, if only to camouflage her curves, before picking up her clutch bag and heading downstairs.

Rick was waiting at the bottom of the staircase. He had his coat on and rattled the car keys at her. ‘Sorry, love,' he said, without even trying to sound apologetic. ‘Something's come up. I have to go out.'

Elle's mouth opened and closed like a stranded fish. Her mind was refusing to believe what was happening. ‘What's come up?' she asked, but Rick had already shut the front door and was gone.

Half an hour later, Elle was standing in the kitchen in her pyjamas, making cocoa for Charlie and one for herself. The deal was that he could have extra marshmallows as long as he please, please, please went to bed without complaint. She needed some time to herself.

By the time the doorbell rang an hour or so later, Charlie had been true to his word and was in bed, supposedly fast asleep. Elle pretended not to hear his bedroom door creak open as he tried to spy who was calling at such a late hour. It was nine o'clock and she was wondering the same thing herself.

‘Fancy a girl's night in?' asked Angie, dangling a bottle of wine that glinted in the headlights of the taxi that had just dropped her off.

Elle's usual reaction would have been a polite refusal, but still smarting at having been denied one of her few pleasures she threw the door open wide. Rick wasn't going to like this, she told herself as she lined up two large wine glasses on the kitchen counter. ‘There's another bottle chilling in the fridge if we run out,' she said.

‘And by the wicked smile on your face I'd say we're going to need it,' Angie remarked. ‘But if I'd known it was a pyjama party, I'd have come prepared.'

‘Would you believe that less than two hours ago I was looking almost as glamorous as you?' Elle said.

Angie wasn't as tall as Elle or as slender but she showed off her curves with confidence in a red dress that clashed brazenly with her fuchsia-tinted hair. Though she was only a couple of years younger, she made Elle feel old and frumpy by comparison.

‘You could be twice as glamorous as me, given half a chance.'

The poorly disguised dig at Rick was dutifully ignored. ‘Maybe I should go up and change, or …' Elle began as her sense of mischief bloomed with the first mouthful of wine, ‘… you could join me?'

Without waiting for an answer she disappeared upstairs, returning two minutes later with a garment that would be immediately familiar to Angie.

‘That's the onesie I bought you for Christmas – and it still has the label on it!'

Elle was grinning from ear to ear, totally unabashed. ‘Were you really expecting me to wear something you wouldn't wear yourself?'

Angie took the dare, kicking off her shoes and hiking up her dress as she stepped into the tiger print all-in-one complete with tail and a pair of ears on the hood. She twirled the tail and began to purr, but not for long because both women soon doubled up in laughter.

‘I'm so glad you're here, you really are a tonic,' Elle told her as she wiped tears from her eyes. ‘But I am sorry you had to forgo your night out.'

‘Oh, I've got plenty of opportunity for nights on the town now I'm free and single,' Angie said, although she didn't make it sound like a good thing. ‘So what was Rick's emergency anyway?'

‘He was out the door before I had the chance to ask. It's probably work-related.' It was Elle's turn to sound unconvinced.

Angie swallowed a mouthful of wine with a satisfied gulp before picking up her phone. ‘Only one way to find out.'

Elle sat open-mouthed as Angie phoned her estranged husband. She had always been a little jealous of the way Angie and Chris had been so at ease in each other's company. There were no holds barred in their conversations, which had perhaps been their downfall, but as she listened to them talking now, the relaxed tone was still something to be envied.

‘Why did you two split up again?' Elle asked when Angie finished the call.

Angie shrugged her shoulders. ‘I left and the bastard let me go, but I do believe we were talking about you. Whatever it was that made Rick take off in such a hurry had nothing to do with work, though I think you already knew that. While he's allowed to get up to goodness knows what, you're the one having to account for your every move. He really doesn't want you going out with me any more, does he?'

Elle swallowed a mouthful of wine. ‘You have to admit, it is going to make things difficult. We don't want to take sides,' she began, ‘but what happens when we have parties? Who do we invite? And if we invite both of you, what happens if either of you brings a new partner …'

‘What parties, Elle?' Angie said carefully. ‘Stop repeating Rick's arguments as if they're your own.'

Angie had never been one of Rick's biggest fans but she had put up with him, at first for Chris's sake and then for Elle's too. But without her husband's calming influence and calls for diplomacy, Angie was finding it difficult to disguise her contempt. Although she couldn't disagree with Angie's often scathing comments, it didn't make her feel any better. Not about Rick and not about herself. ‘He's not a bad person, Angie,' she tried.

Angie swirled the last dregs of wine around her glass as she considered her response. ‘I know he's not. What Rick is though is incredibly insecure and pathetically weak. It's a fair definition of most bullies.' Before Elle could protest, she said, ‘OK, I'll stop now. I wouldn't want Rick accusing me of coming between you two just so I can have some company in the divorce courts.' Angie caught the look in Elle's eyes. ‘Oh, he's saying that already, is he?' She was laughing as she spoke.

Elle laughed too but she couldn't quite relax into it. ‘I don't know what I'd do without you. You're my best friend.'

Angie, being the friend she was, didn't point out that she was Elle's only friend. ‘That's why I'm here.'

‘Actually, getting you here is quite fortuitous. I need a dose of your no-nonsense talking, if you don't mind.'

Angie refilled their glasses to the brim as Elle sought out the cereal box that now contained the offending sympathy card as well as the love letters.

‘What do you think?' she asked once Angie had gone through all the evidence.

‘Truthfully?'

Elle nodded.

‘Your dad fell in love with someone but he didn't think he was good enough for her and never would be. She married someone else and eventually so did he. Twenty years later they started meeting up again, possibly for a few years, but then that ended.'

‘That?' Elle asked. She was still in denial and needed Angie to be brutally honest if she was ever going to face facts.

‘Your dad had an affair,' Angie replied, and had the good grace to grimace.

Elle's face was grim as she silently returned the evidence to its hiding place. She didn't know when Rick might return. Recalling Angie's call to Chris, she realized she didn't even know where he would be returning from, but that was a question for another day. ‘Do you want to stay here or go into the living room?'

‘Where would you rather be?'

‘In my old bedroom with the duvet over my head,' Elle admitted. ‘I don't know how to deal with this, Angie. I know my dad was only human, but even so. What if we're reading this all wrong? Dad isn't here to defend himself.'

‘You want to see this Corinne woman, don't you?'

‘Yes … and no. Do you ever get the feeling that your life is hanging by a thread and if you start pulling at it, it's all going to unravel?'

Angie leaned in closer, her stare intense and uncomfortable as Elle felt not only her face but her whole life under scrutiny. ‘Here's hoping,' she said.

It was eleven o'clock and Elle and Angie were still in the kitchen, pouring the last of dregs of the second bottle of wine into their glasses. ‘We could open another one?' Angie suggested.

Elle shook her head solemnly. ‘Rick doesn't like me drunk.'

‘I've got news for you – you already are.' They both giggled. ‘When was the last time you did exactly what you wanted?'

Elle frowned as she tried to find her way through a fuzzy maze of memories. ‘Ten years ago, maybe?' She was thinking back to her time at Alder Hey. She hadn't only loved the job but the social life too. Her parents may have disapproved on occasion but that hadn't stopped her being her own woman back then. ‘I miss being a nurse,' she confessed with a drunken slur. ‘I miss using my brain.'

‘You're still qualified, aren't you? Can't you go back to it now that Charlie's at school and you don't have any other responsibilities?' Angie asked, being diplomatic enough not to mention the two responsibilities she had in mind who were both in their graves.

‘Elle has plenty of responsibilities and she takes them seriously.' The sound of Rick's voice made both women jump.

It was Angie that asked the question playing on both their minds. ‘How long have you been standing there?'