A Secret Shared... (4 page)

It was exactly the right thing to say. Harry didn’t move. The tension was still there but he’d been given an escape route. The pressure was off and if he wanted he could still stay and watch.

He didn’t say a word but neither did he pull back, retreat, head for the safety of the cute little bungalow that was to be their home for the next two weeks.

Instead, he stood silent. His hand was still in Jack’s, not responsive, not clinging but not pulling away either. They watched in silence as Kate waded into the pool and spoke to her four tame dolphins. She showed each of them a fish and asked them to spin three times and do a belly roll before she handed them—formally, it seemed—their supper.

Then she backed out of the water, waved to the dolphins and waved to them with the same cheer.

‘See you later,’ she said. ‘Have a good night. Harry, the sausage rolls are great and the pizza’s better. If you see me when you’re peeking through your curtains tomorrow, can you give me a wave?’

And she was gone, clicking her fingers so Maisie fell in behind her. She was a formal, professional...doctor? A doctor with bare feet, an empty fish bucket and a bedraggled, soaking dog.

What sort of place had he landed himself in?

What sort of woman had Cathy...Kate...become?

He didn’t know. All he knew was that the tension had once again gone out of his little nephew.

‘I need to take a shower,’ he told Harry. ‘I’m all wet.’

He didn’t expect an answer but it came. ‘The dog made you wet,’ Harry said.

He grinned. ‘She certainly did. Would you like pizza?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry, and Jack knew that whatever Cathy/Kate was, whatever she’d become, he needed to take a chance on this place.

He needed to take a chance on her.

CHAPTER THREE

H
ARRY
RETREATED
AGAIN
into silence. Jack ordered via the cabin phone for them both—pizza and orange juice for Harry, a hamburger and beer for himself. A cheerful lass with a strong Canadian accent arrived at their bungalow fifteen minutes later, chatted happily to Jack and Harry, didn’t seem to mind that Harry didn’t respond, left their dinner and left them to the night.

They sat on their little balcony, a table between them, and watched the sun set over the ocean. They could see the dolphin pool from here. From time to time a dolphin broke the surface, the ripples spreading as if dispersing the tangerine rays of the setting sun. The gentle hush-hush of the breaking waves was all the sound there was.

No pressure, Jack thought. If Harry was at Helen’s right now, the whole family would be pressuring him to eat. Even Helen’s kids knew Harry didn’t eat enough, so every time he took a bite was cause for family celebration.

Not here. Jack was taking a leaf out of Kate’s book, backing off.

During the journey he’d insisted Harry eat, playing the heavy-handed uncle.

‘I don’t care if you don’t want it, Harry, but you’ll get sick if you don’t eat. Six mouthfuls or you’re not leaving the table.’

Now, at this place, it seemed less urgent. This seemed the time when they could both start again.

He ate his hamburger—extremely large, extremely good. He drank his beer and watched the sunset and didn’t say a word, and as he finished his food a small hand snagged a piece of pizza. He didn’t comment and when the lass came to collect the empty tray neither did she.

‘Dr Kate says she might drop by later to have a chat,’ she told Jack cheerfully. ‘There are forms to fill in. Boring. She says there’s no need to stay up if you don’t want. It can wait until morning, but she’ll drop by anyway.’

And Jack figured what this was about, too. Their formal appointment this afternoon had been missed. Kate would come—he’d expected it—but by forewarning them both, Harry would be reassured. If the little boy woke and heard voices he’d know what was happening. Harry needed no surprises, no shocks, no worries. He needed his world to stabilise again—if it ever could.

To lose both his parents in the one appalling moment...Jack could hardly imagine the black hole it had created. To be seven and to lose so much...

A shadow emerged from the trees, sniffing up the steps as the girl removed the tray and prepared to leave.

‘Maisie,’ the girl said. She smiled and turned to Harry. ‘Harry, Maisie’s very fussy,’ she said. ‘Every night she decides who she’d like to sleep with. It seems tonight she’s chosen you. If you don’t want her, I’ll take her away with me now. She has her own bed with Dr Kate. We don’t want her to be a bother.’

Harry didn’t answer but it didn’t trouble Maisie. The big dog proceeded ponderously up the steps and put his great head on Harry’s knee. And sighed.

Her message couldn’t be more clear.
No one in this world understands me. You’re my only friend. Please let me stay.

She put her paw up in silent entreaty. Harry cast a covert glance at Jack and then back at Maisie.

‘C-can she stay?’

‘Only if she sleeps on your bed,’ Jack said sternly. ‘I don’t like dogs snoring on mine.’

‘D-does she snore?’

‘Sometimes,’ the lass said cheerfully. ‘Will I take her away?’

‘N-no,’ Harry managed, and the thing was settled. So half an hour later boy and dog were tucked up in bed. Harry’s arms were firmly around Maisie’s neck and Harry was fast asleep.

Helen had a dog. They’d also tried him out with a puppy but they’d got nowhere.

This dog, though, knew all the right moves. She knew just how to wriggle her way under a small boy’s defences.

Like Kate was doing?

He’d walked into this place and felt deeply suspicious. What kind of a healing centre didn’t try to save a child? Even if the explanation of terminal illness was true, why was no doctor in attendance? Kate was listed in the resort’s advertising as being a physiotherapist and a counsellor. There was no mention of her being a medical doctor. Something must have gone horribly wrong with her career. He didn’t trust her, and yet somehow he’d agreed to stay. By reaching out to Harry, she’d wriggled under his defences and he was left feeling more than a little vulnerable.

He didn’t like it. Jack liked control. He had no kids himself. Now he had one small nephew who’d managed to touch his heart and leave him exposed. To charlatans? To a woman who called herself Kate but who wasn’t.

‘Jack?’

The voice was so soft he hardly heard it, but he’d been waiting.

Kate? Cathy.

The sun had sunk over the horizon; the merest hint of colour tinging the point where the sea disappeared towards Africa. The night was warm and still. No sound came from other bungalows. What sort of resort was this when by eight o’clock everyone seemed asleep?

‘Hi,’ Kate said, as she reached the steps. ‘I have some forms for you to fill in, and some questions I need answered. Is now a good time?’

She was casually dressed, in jeans with a slouchy windcheater over the top. Her feet were still bare. The only hint of professionalism was the two thick envelopes she carried.

She’d let her hair out, he thought inconsequentially. It was curly and bouncy and touched her shoulders. Nice.

Um...don’t go there. This is Harry’s welfare, he told himself. Be professional.

‘I need to throw you more questions than you throw at me,’ he growled. ‘What are you playing at?’

She was halfway up the veranda steps and she paused. ‘You sound angry.’

‘Why wouldn’t I be angry? This is my sister’s child. I’m responsible for him. You’re not who you say you are. I don’t want anyone messing with his welfare.’

‘Do you think I could possibly hurt Harry?’

‘I don’t know what game you’re playing...’

‘No game,’ she said stiffly. ‘This place represents me exactly as I am. I’m Kate Martin, counsellor and physiotherapist.’

‘You and I both know that’s a lie.’

‘It isn’t a lie. I trained at university in Auckland. Years of study. My qualifications are real.’

‘You’re a doctor, or you were. Have you been struck off?’

‘No,’ she said flatly, defiantly. ‘I haven’t. But it’s my choice whether I advertise my medical degree or not. With my counselling and physiotherapy qualifications, I don’t need to add the medical stuff.’

‘That makes no sense—and then there’s the small issue of your name.’

‘You’re treating me like a criminal.’

‘You’re acting like one.’

‘It’s not a sin to change your name.’

‘People don’t change their names unless they’re hiding.’

‘So I’m hiding, but my reasons are personal and nothing to do with my professional ability. I ask you to accept that.’

‘So if I ring the medical board and enquire...’

‘I’d ask you not to do that.’ Her face was pale but resolute. She stood halfway up the steps, holding onto the rail as if she needed it for support. ‘I’ve taken a great deal of trouble to ensure there’s no link between Cathy Heineman and Kate Martin. One phone call could destroy that. One phone call could mean I need to walk away from all I’ve worked for.’

‘You mean the medical board—’

‘Couldn’t care less,’ she snapped. ‘I have my change of name recorded. Believe it or not, I’m still a registered doctor with no blemish against my name. I still accrue my professional training points and I keep my registration up to date. But the receptionist who receives notes of my continual professional training updates Kate Martin’s file. I did the name change carefully with only a couple of trusted friends helping. I want no link.’

There were a couple of moments of silence. Intense silence. She was gazing straight up at him, unflinching. Defiant even. Still, she was pale.

One phone call could mean I need to walk away from all I’ve worked for...

This was personal, he thought. He shouldn’t ask.

But this was Harry.

‘Cathy...Kate,’ he said at last. ‘Harry’s lost his parents. He has no one to protect him except me and his very bossy aunt. Helen demanded that I bring him here. I did so with reservations because alternative medicine makes me wary, and the first thing I saw was a dead child. That was followed by a doctor using an assumed name. Your defensiveness might be valid from your perspective but for Harry’s sake I need an explanation.’

‘You can’t just let Maisie and the dolphins do their own work without probing into my past?’

‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘Harry’s too important for that.’

‘You were my friend,’ she said. ‘You trusted me.’

‘I trusted you not to break a test tube,’ he said. ‘And they were the university’s test tubes. This is Harry.’

She bit her lip. Her gaze faltered for a moment. She stared down at her bare toes and then she raised her chin again. She met his gaze with that same defiance, but touched with the defiance was a hint of fear.

‘I don’t tell people.’

‘No.’

‘Can I trust you?’

‘You can trust me not to tell anyone else. You can’t trust me not to pick up Harry and walk away.’

‘Fair enough.’ She sighed and then seemed to come to a decision. ‘There’s wine in your refrigerator. I’m off duty. If I don’t charge you mini-bar prices, will you pour me one? You can have a free beer as well.’

‘Bribing as well?’ he asked, but he smiled to soften the words and she managed a smile back.

‘I’ll do anything I need to stay hidden,’ she said simply. ‘Handing you access to your mini-bar is the least of it.’

* * *

She was settled in the deck chair on Jack’s veranda. Jack had nearly finished his beer and she was halfway through a glass of wine.

She’d expected him to push, but he didn’t. He seemed content to wait, giving her the time she needed.

And she needed time. Her story was simple and bleak and it was something that had happened to a woman called Cathy Heineman, not to her. She was Kate Martin and she’d moved on.

But Jack was still waiting. If he was to trust her, he had a right to know.

‘You know I married,’ she said.

‘I did know that.’

‘Fourth year. I was twenty-one. A kid.’

‘We seemed pretty old and wise at the time.’

‘We did, didn’t we?’ she said, and tried for a smile. ‘But I was still a baby. Still living at home, the only child of elderly parents. Ruled by a loving despot. My father’s health was precarious and my mother was terrified. Dad had two heart attacks while I was in my teens, and Mum’s mantra was
Don’t do anything to upset your father.
’

‘So?’

‘So that was the way it was,’ she said. ‘Simon was the son of Dad’s best friend and business partner. Almost family. I was sixteen when we first dated. Simon was twenty four and the excitement our parents felt was amazing. The assumption from that first date was that we’d marry.’

‘But you obviously liked the guy.’

‘Oh, yes. But he was just...an extension of my family. He was older than me, good looking, powerful, and he fed my teenage ego no end. And suddenly I was in too far to get out. When I started university I started getting itchy feet, but by then Dad’s health was failing even more. The pressure was on for us to marry before he died. Simon was pressuring me too, saying he was fond of my dad, we should do it. So I did.’

She said it almost defiantly, as if it was a thing that needed defending.

He stayed silent. There was more coming; he knew it.

‘Only, of course, then I was a wife,’ she said slowly. ‘Before I’d been a girlfriend, almost a casual girlfriend as Simon had let me go my own way—as indeed he went his. He was training to take over our parents’ business. He was an only child too, so we’d both inherit and the business—importing quality wine—was brilliant. Both families were wealthy, but Simon wanted more.’

‘Is that why he married you?’ Jack asked.

Kate stared into her wine glass for a long moment before she answered. Then: ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Of course it was, only I was too naïve to see it. All I saw was that he was a nice guy, and my father was desperate for the marriage. I think...maybe even then I was thinking if it doesn’t work out, after Dad and Mum go I can divorce. I was only twenty one. I had my medical career to get off the ground. I didn’t intend to have babies for years.’

‘But?’ he said gently, and she swirled her wine some more.

‘But,’ she said heavily. ‘But.’

‘If you don’t want to tell me, I can get the picture.’

She glanced up at him then and managed a smile. ‘So little, and you’ll trust?’

‘I assume you’re running from him?’

‘See, in his eyes I’m not Cathy or Kate,’ she told him. ‘Divorce or not, I’m his wife. I’m the other part of Simon’s inheritance, and Simon doesn’t give up possessions lightly.’

‘I see.’

‘You probably don’t. The fights we had... First he wanted me to give up my medical studies. After we married he couldn’t see the point. I fought him on that, you can’t believe how much I fought, and I won but at a cost. And after that...every little thing meant a fight. If I defied him, heaven help me. He wanted total control. And then Dad died, Simon’s father went into care with Alzheimer’s and the whole thing crashed.’ She faltered. ‘It seemed...Simon gambled. No one knew. No one suspected. But he’d mortgaged the business. He’d forged signatures so my half as well as his was forfeit. I knew then why he’d married me and I knew why he had to stay married. But after one vicious fight too many I walked away, and then, after what happened next, I ran.’

‘Cathy—’

‘I’m Kate,’ she said fiercely. ‘I’m Kate Martin. Cathy Heineman is divorced and has disappeared because Simon still thinks he owns her. Simon went to jail because he signed contracts using my mother’s name and mine. My mother died in poverty because of him. His own parents are penniless. Simon is a lying, thieving thug and I’m glad my parents are dead because they never had to see...’

She caught herself. ‘No. It’s not necessary to tell you all the gruesome facts. Just that I didn’t take forgery and theft lying down. It wasn’t just me he robbed but I was the one who sent him to jail. So Simon still hates me and he’s lethal. Ten years on, he’s been in and out of jail and I’m still afraid of him. His hatred is out of all context, off the wall. So I’m Kate. I changed my name. I scraped together enough from our assets to go overseas. I worked as a waitress while I retrained as a physiotherapist. I did some psychology too—in some ways it helped with the stuff that had happened to me. The university in Auckland was supportive. My medical degree meant additional qualifications were fast-tracked and I qualified with my new name.