This Secret We're Keeping (25 page)

‘Missing you,’ Anna relented. ‘The whole thing was a bit OTT. There were speeches. And people kept passing me their babies to hold. I think they were hoping I might catch the right hormones or something. Oh, and my mum’s organizing a family get-together in Spain, in August. She wants you there, Jess. She told me to tell you – you don’t have a choice.’

Jess smiled. She missed Christine too. ‘At the villa?’ she asked, trying not to be distracted by the sight of the hen party moving off, a big gaggle of pink feathers, VPLs and moulting glitter. She couldn’t help wondering where they were heading to next and if she should perhaps text Philippe at Carafe to warn him.

Anna nodded. ‘Yep, it’ll be at the villa. You can think about it if you like. Let me know.’

Jess had fond memories of childhood holidays with
Anna’s family, happy times when even Anna’s infuriating younger sisters had seemed bearable. ‘Okay.’

‘You could bring Zak.’

‘Ha.’

‘I’m actually serious. Bring him.’

‘I don’t think we’re quite in the market for family holidays just yet,’ Jess said with a frown as she traced an absent-minded circle of the brass number thirteen screwed on to their table.

Anna frowned. ‘Why not? Has something happened?’

Jess chewed on the inside of her lip.

Anna took a deep breath, as if she was preparing to jump off a very high diving board. ‘Are you about to say something that’s going to really upset me?’

‘Like what?’

‘Like, you slept with Matthew.’

Jess remained silent. Anna emitted a long, low groan of frustration, provoking a display of minor alarm from the two golfers at the next table.

‘Please don’t give me a hard time, Anna,’ Jess mumbled, trying to simultaneously take a fortifying swig of wine and smile reassurance at the golfers.

‘I’m your best friend, Jess. If you’re doing something stupid, it’s my
job
to give you a hard time.’

‘It only happened once. It’s not … ongoing.’

Clutching at her mineral water like she thought it might be able to offer some form of psychological support (Jess doubted it), Anna spoke with incredulity, like the only possible explanation could be that this would all turn out to be an honest mistake – that Jess had somehow, in the wrong light perhaps, managed to confuse Matthew with Zak. ‘But he has a wife and
child
.’

‘She’s not his wife,’ Jess said, before she could help herself.

‘This isn’t like you,’ Anna said, setting down her glass and grabbing Jess’s hand, forehead all corrugated with concern. ‘You don’t do stuff like this. You’re not this person.’

Jess remained silent, wondering for a moment if she should perhaps explain to Anna that Natalie had tricked Will into having Charlotte, that it hadn’t even been his choice to become a father. This detail of his biography felt important to Jess – insofar as it showed, perhaps, that he and Natalie were together for reasons other than love. But every sentence she tried to form in her head made it sound as if Will had been arrested for drink-driving and Jess was attempting to plead peer pressure in his defence.

‘So have you finished things with Zak?’ Anna asked her.

Jess frowned. ‘No, I mean … I’m not
with
Will, Anna. It was a one-off. I told you that.’

Still, she had cancelled on Zak yesterday. She’d been supposed to travel down to London in the afternoon, but had called him in the morning to tell him she had the flu.

‘In the height of summer?’ Anna ventured, with a level of disbelief that was verging on amusement.

Fortunately, Zak hadn’t seemed to be suspicious, which in a way had made it all seem worse. ‘I know. I’m not proud of myself. I know I’m no better than bloody Octavia.’

Anna’s face dropped. ‘Exactly. If he finds out you’re lying, he’ll completely lose his shit.’ She enunciated the last three words very deliberately. ‘You know what he’s like about stuff like that.’

Jess frowned. ‘I know.’

‘Shall I tell you what I thought the other night, when I saw Matthew?’

Jess shrugged, because she wasn’t anticipating a compliment.

‘I thought … he doesn’t
suit
you.’

Jess made a face. ‘What does that mean?’

‘I don’t know, Jess. He looks … old.’

He still looks twenty-five to me.
‘Er, Will’s only a year older than Simon,’ Jess pointed out. ‘There’s nine years between you two – or did you forget that?’

Anna rolled her eyes against the discrepancy. ‘Me and Simon met as adults.’

‘The age gap’s still the same.’

‘Oh, no moral difference?’

Jess paused. ‘Well, yes – if you happen to be the CPS.’

Anna almost spoke over her. ‘Look, the long and short of it is, you need to choose between them, Jess. Will, or Zak.’

‘It’s not about choosing, Anna. I’m not
with
Will. If he left his family for me … there’s a massive risk he’d never see his daughter again. And I don’t want that for him.’

‘So, what – you’re just going to see each other on the side?’ Anna let the question hang, but Jess got the feeling she would probably have liked to add,
Nice – and who are you turning into, by the way?

She drew a steadying breath. ‘No, I’m not. I know I need to stop it.’ She’d not felt able to admit it to herself before now.

‘Yes, you do,’ Anna agreed. ‘And never mind him leaving his family for you – there’s a good chance Natalie could beat you both to it. She’s probably not as stupid as you think, you know.’

‘I never said she was stupid.’

‘You just need to sort things out with Zak and never see Will again,’ Anna pressed, a quick refresh on society’s moral codes. ‘He ruined your life the first time round, Jess. Please don’t let him do the same thing again.’

He didn’t ruin my life. Matthew was the best thing that ever happened to me.

But Anna wasn’t letting up. ‘You need to think about how much you’re prepared to throw away for the sake of Matthew Landley. You do this –’ she paused – ‘all the time.’

‘Do what?’

‘Every boyfriend you’ve ever had – including Zak – you compare to him.’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Yes, you do. You always say,
Matthew would never have said … Matthew would never have done … Matthew used to say …
’ She shook her head. ‘The thing is, you were never really together.’

‘Yes, we were,’ Jess said fiercely. ‘You’re a little bit in denial about that, Anna.’

‘Jess,’ Anna said then, and suddenly all the features on her face seemed to tighten slightly. ‘Have you told him … ?’

‘No,’ Jess said quickly, more sharply than she had intended. ‘No. I haven’t.’

There was a long, horrible pause.

‘So when’s he supposed to be going back to London?’ Anna asked her eventually.

‘September. That’s the plan, anyway.’

On the television above the pool table, Sky Sports was showing Formula 1 from Monaco. A car had come off the track against a run of advertising hoarding and, watching it in slow motion, Jess was suddenly reminded of what Will had told her on Monday night.

She turned to Anna. ‘Will told me Miss Laird died in a car crash. I mean, she was walking. The car mounted the pavement.’

Anna swallowed and looked down at her glass of water. ‘That’s awful.’

There was a strange pause then, as if Jess had said something really tactless.

‘I’m not really sure how I feel about it,’ she confessed, thinking perhaps she’d come across as slightly blasé.

‘I’m assuming Mr Landley feels abundant glee.’

‘No, of course not. Why would you assume that?’

Anna shot her a look that said,
Be serious
. ‘What did he say then?’

‘Not much, really. What could he say?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Something nice?’

Jess took another sip of wine, resisting the urge to do a Simon and sling back the whole lot in one. ‘Because she died?’

Anna fixed her with a patient smile. ‘I think that’s traditional.’

‘Yes, maybe if you’re in earshot of her family at the funeral,’ Jess conceded. ‘Otherwise, why should he? She completely screwed him over. She’s responsible for everything.
Everything
.’

Anna shut her eyes like she was waiting for Jess’s ill will to leave the room, and when she opened them again, she looked grave. ‘Please come and do some yoga with Rasleen. Come tomorrow. I think your solar plexus may be blocked. Do you feel it here?’ She placed a hand on her upper abdomen.

‘Er …’ Jess looked down at her top. ‘Not really.’

Anna appeared unfazed. ‘So you’ll come? One session. You’ll get to meet Rasleen and, you never know, you might even start to see Matthew Landley in a completely different light.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ Jess said, but what she was thinking was that this all sounded more like low-grade hypnotism than it did yoga, so she definitely wasn’t going.

‘That means no,’ Anna surmised.

‘Probably,’ she admitted after a moment’s pause.

Anna made a huffing sound and downed the last of her water like she once would have downed a tumbler-full of late-night whisky.

An hour later, as Jess headed back home, having wished Anna luck with her next fertility window and before she really had time to think about what she was doing, she dialled Will’s number. But it went straight to voicemail.

It was late when he returned her call.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I keep forgetting that everyone else has normal sleep patterns.’

Jess smiled. ‘Where are you?’ She was curled up on the sofa, rubbing Smudge’s belly with her foot and cradling a mug of warm beef broth, a rainy-night throwback from early childhood, at a time when her mother still had the capacity to be nurturing. It was one of those comfortable old habits she’d never quite felt the urge to shake off.

‘Erm, it’s raining outside and I’m sitting in my garden shed. My arse is wet and I’m also wearing an undersized cagoule and red wellies, in case that picture wasn’t quite attractive enough for you. I look like a sodding garden gnome.’

She started laughing. ‘Oh
God
.’

‘Yes, I’m sitting in the pitch dark with my hood up like a weirdo, and to cap it all off, my dick has gone hard just hearing your voice, which is most un-gnome-like of me.’ He sighed heavily. ‘So what are you doing? Come on, you must be less tragic than me right now. It wouldn’t be difficult.’

‘Um – right now?’

‘Excellent.’ She could hear his smile. ‘Go on.’

Jess grinned, hesitating for just a moment. ‘Pyjamas and beef broth.’

There was a disbelieving pause. ‘You’re not seriously drinking gravy?’

‘Broth is not gravy! And it is raining,’ she reminded him.

‘Yes, but it’s not the 1970s. Or January. And I’m assuming you’re not at a football match.’

She smiled faintly into the phone. ‘Want to come over and try a cup? You never know, you might like it.’

There was a long pause.

‘Sorry, Jess. Much as I am a big fan of hot stock …’ He trailed off, and they were quiet for a moment.

‘Is Natalie back from Birmingham?’

‘Yeah, she is.’

‘Was Charlotte okay the other night?’

‘Oh, fine. I told Natalie I got stuck in traffic. Apparently Helen did microwave pizza for Charlotte while they were waiting, and that’s literally all I’ve heard about since.’

Jess swallowed. For some reason, to hear this made her eyes prick with tears. ‘I really … I had a really good time on Friday.’

‘Me too, Jess.’

She swallowed, wanting to ask him what they should do now, but knowing that he wouldn’t have the answer to that. How could she possibly expect him to?

‘Look, Jess … I’m not a big fan of under-the-radar.’

‘We can hardly be over it,’ she said sadly.

He sighed heavily. The impossibility of it all felt suddenly overwhelming.

‘I’m sorry I called you,’ she concluded eventually. ‘I know I shouldn’t.’

‘You don’t ever need to apologize,’ he told her. ‘For anything. You can skip that bit with me, Jess.’

She fought back a sharp and sudden urge to disagree.
Actually, there is something I need to apologize for. Something I never told you.
‘Okay. Well, maybe I can see you soon.’

‘Yeah, I’ll …’ He trailed off again.

‘You’ll what?’

‘No, I was going to say “I’ll be in touch” and then I realized that sounded like just about the crappiest thing I’ve said to anyone, ever.’

She managed a soft smile. ‘Let’s not say anything then.’

‘Okay.’ He exhaled with some force. ‘Right. Need to try and get out of this sodding shed now.’

She hesitated. ‘Are you stuck?’

‘Erm, sort of. The door’s jammed shut. I think the wood’s swelled up.’

Despite herself, she started laughing. ‘Would you like me to call 999?’

‘No, you can spare me that indignity, thanks very much. I’d rather succumb to hypothermia.’

‘You know, on second thoughts, I think you might actually be more tragic than me tonight.’

‘Well, actually, that’s where you’re wrong, because just as soon as I get out of this –’ there followed the sound of thumping against wood – ‘fucking shed …’

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ she said through her laughter. ‘That sounds like it might need both hands.’

‘Oh, no need to be so smug,’ he said, and she could tell he was struggling to suppress a smile. ‘Enjoy your beef broth. Never knew that about you.’

Her laughter took over then, and she couldn’t say anything else.