My Sister’s Secret (20 page)

‘I don’t think she has. I mean, she reads and writes about all these romantic liaisons, but doesn’t seem to have had any herself. You know, she was accepted on to a really great writing course in East Anglia before Faith died. She turned it down so she could stay and be there for us all.’

‘I didn’t know that.’

‘Hope’s made a lot of sacrifices for our family.’ Charity felt her eyes fill with tears. ‘I feel a bit selfish actually. What have I ever done for her?’

Dan put his hand on Charity’s arm. ‘You’ve worked at the café, looked after her when she was ill, been there for her as she has been for you. You mustn’t always feel so guilty, Charity. You’re a special woman.’

Charity thought of what he’d said in Norfolk about wondering how his life would have been if he’d met her instead of Lana. How would
her
life have been if Dan had been that boy they’d met on the beach all those years ago?

Would Faith still be alive?

They both fell silent and the atmosphere suddenly felt charged, the space between them electric.

‘Charity,’ Dan said, eyes searching hers, ‘am I imagining what’s happening between us?’

‘No.’

The front door opened and they both went quiet as Hope appeared in the hallway, her whole body drenched, her red hair loose to her waist, rain dripping on to the floor from its ends. She blinked in the semi-darkness at Charity and Dan, a haunted look in her eyes.

‘Hope, are you okay?’ Charity asked, jumping up and striding towards her sister.

Hope scrabbled around in her bag, avoiding Charity’s gaze. ‘Fine, all fine.’ Her voice was trembling.

‘You’re not fine, what happened?’

‘I saw the police officer, if you must know,’ Hope said, eyes still on her bag.

‘Police officer?’ Charity said. ‘I don’t understand.’

Hope looked up at her sister, her grey eyes slightly wild. ‘The one who was in charge of the investigation into Faith’s death.’

Charity went very still as Dan hovered in the kitchen, brow puckered as he watched the two sisters.

‘He was in the pub where they were holding the poetry reading,’ Hope continued. ‘I recognised him straight away. He was older but – but it was definitely him. Funny how some faces scorch themselves on to your soul, isn’t it?’ She let out a muffled sob, slamming her hand over her mouth.

Charity put her arm around her sister’s thin shoulders and steered her to the bench in the hallway to put some space between the two of them and Dan. Hope slumped down on to it, clutching the wooden seat with her fingers as she stared at the wall.

‘Why are you soaked through?’ Charity asked.

‘I was supposed to be getting a lift with Angela but she was faffing about. I had to get out of there.’ She stopped talking, peering into the kitchen at Dan. Her gaze dropped away from him. ‘Anyway, I couldn’t wait for her, so I just walked home.’

‘In the rain?’ Charity asked. ‘That pub’s ages away.’

‘I had to get out of there.’

The aroma of garlic and roasting tomatoes wafted around them, reminding Charity of the lasagne in the oven. Wind lashed against the window and it seemed to force Dan out of his reverie. He grabbed his coat and strode down the hallway. ‘I’ll leave you both to it.’

Charity stood. ‘Dan, you don’t have to—’

He looked into her eyes. ‘You have to be here for your sister.’ He quickly kissed her on the cheek, the heat of his lips a shock on her cold skin. ‘Good luck with the new job, Charity.’ Then he let himself out into the rain. Charity closed the door and turned to her sister.

‘Hope, what’s wrong?’ she asked her.

Hope shook her head, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. ‘Our poor darling sister was pregnant when she died, Charity. That bastard didn’t just kill our Faith, he killed our niece or nephew too.’

Charity tried to focus on scrubbing a particularly stubborn stain from one of the café’s tables the next morning. But all she could see was Faith, her poor vulnerable
pregnant
sister. She quickly wiped away a tear as a couple nearby watched her with knitted brows. Surely her parents would have known, they’d have been told about the autopsy results. What a shock it must have been for them. And thank God they hadn’t passed the information on to her and Hope; Charity wasn’t sure she’d have been able to cope.

Could she cope now?

Dark emotions swelled inside her chest. She thought of that night, the car’s headlights bouncing all over the dark road as the car slid down it in the rain, knocking her sister off the road.

Her sister and her baby.

‘Oh, Jesus,’ Charity whispered, putting her hand to her mouth

‘Are you okay, Charity?’ asked a woman with a small baby.

‘Yep,’ Charity said, forcing herself to speak, trying desperately not to look at the baby and think of Faith’s baby. ‘Must’ve been something I ate last night.’ She quickly strode out of the café to the railings protecting the promenade from the sea and clutched at them, the cloth she’d been holding lifting in the wind and tumbling into the lashing waves below. She wanted to be under those waves right at that moment, sickening memories muffled by torrid waves, pulling her deeper and deeper.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see her sister watching her, face twisted with sadness.

‘Can I have a break?’ Charity said. ‘Just a few minutes, I just need to walk. I just—’ She swallowed, mouth feeling incredibly dry. ‘Just a few minutes.’

‘Shall I come with you, I could close the café for a bit?’

Charity shook her head. She needed to be alone. She’d just feel even worse with Hope’s sad eyes watching her. Hope was lucky; she hadn’t been there that night. She didn’t have this terrible guilt to contend with. Charity quickly grabbed her sister’s hand, giving it a squeeze before letting it go and hurrying down the promenade.

Thank God she was leaving Busby-on-Sea soon. She couldn’t have stayed here with all these memories, even more so now.

Listen to yourself! she thought. Selfish, selfish, selfish. Maybe she
should
stay and punish herself. Why should she be given the chance of a decent life when Faith had had that snatched away? She should call her new boss, tell her she couldn’t take the job, carry on working at the café all her life and all the sad memories Busby-on-Sea represented until the day she died. That’s what she deserved for being there that night, for not making Niall turn back.

The thought made her shudder. Every instinct made her want to run away. She’d die if she stayed, throw herself into the sea because how else would she be able to deal with things?

Worried she’d do just that, she walked away from the sea, eyes on the ground, fists dug deep into her pockets as tears streamed down her face.

Had Faith been planning to keep the baby? She was only nineteen but she’d always been so gentle, always wanting every creature to live. Charity wasn’t sure Faith would have been able to face having an abortion. No wonder she was so unhappy those last few weeks.

Oh God,
two
lives snatched away in a few reckless seconds on a foggy road. It was unbearable! What would Niall say if he ever found out?

The sound of cars beeping dragged her from her thoughts. She was in the middle of the road.

Someone grabbed her arm, pulling her back to the promenade.

Dan.

She let out a sob and he pulled her into his arms, the citrus smell of him wrapping itself around her. She felt cocooned, protected from the force of the wind, the memories and the terrible guilt. He let her sob against him, stroking her hair, whispering that everything would be okay.

‘But it won’t,’ she mumbled into his coat. ‘Nothing will ever be okay.’

Dan put his finger gently under her chin and tilted her face up. ‘Is this because of what your sister was so upset about last night?’

She swallowed, unable to get the words out at first. But the way he was looking at her, face heavy with emotion, fingers soft, made her want to tell him everything. ‘Faith was pregnant,’ she whispered. ‘
Pregnant
,’ she said again, the word fierce on her lips.

Dan took in a deep breath. ‘I’m so sorry, Charity.’

Charity shook her head, the pain of the memories was excruciating. Dan placed his hands either side of her face and made her look at him again, his green eyes desperate. ‘Stop tearing yourself apart over the past, I can’t bear watching it.’

‘I deserve it, can’t you see that?’ she said, so tempted to tell him she’d been in the car that night but unable to bring herself to.

‘No. All I can see is a woman who’s had her life monopolised by the actions of a boy she was once besotted with. You have to move on. Niall has. Why can’t you?’

His eyes explored hers. Their faces were so close, his hands warm on her cold skin. When she looked into his eyes, it was like she was swimming under warm seas, sheltered, safe. She imagined what it must feel like to kiss him, to feel his lips against hers, soft and sealing a promise of something new, something good. It was irrational, inappropriate, but she wanted to know how that felt, to be kissed by someone who could help her forget.

A cloud moved over the hazy May sun above and shadows crept across the promenade. Dan sighed as though he was giving in and it set something in motion inside her. Before she even knew how she’d got there, she was pressing her lips against his, softly at first. Then their kiss grew more urgent and Charity clung on to him, scared she might fall if she let go. Her whole body weakened, softened, a contrast to when she kissed Niall, when all her nerves, all her fibres and her core buzzed with feeling.

Eventually, she had to pull away from Dan, scared she’d dissolve all together. They were both out of breath, eyes searching each other’s face, hands entwined.

‘When are you leaving for Southampton?’ he asked her.

‘Tomorrow morning.’

‘I’m coming with you.’

‘Yes,’ she said, knowing it was the only right answer.

Charity

Busby-on-Sea, UK

May 1988

Charity lay in bed that night staring up at the ceiling, unable to stop herself from smiling. She thought of Dan’s lips soft against hers, his green eyes heavy with emotion, and her cheeks grew hot. She turned on her side, scrunched her pillow to her belly. It just felt so right! She’d not wanted to leave his arms after that kiss. She’d felt so safe and protected from everything. But she had to get back to the café so they’d reluctantly parted, Dan telling her he’d be at the house the next morning at eight. He somehow understood she needed the night with her sister, their last together before Charity left.

But as she ate dinner silently with Hope that night, she wished she’d just gone to Dan’s and continued what that kiss had started. There was too much sadness here, too many memories. She wanted to escape. Whenever Hope caught her eye, all she could think about was Faith and the child she’d been holding.

‘Are you nervous?’ Hope asked her as she took her plate.

‘No, not really.’

‘You seem nervous. Or preoccupied.
Something.
I can’t put my finger on it.’

Her sister knew her so well.

‘Dan and I kissed,’ Charity admitted.

Hope shoved the plates in the sink and took her seat again, leaning forward to look Charity in the eye. ‘When?’

‘Earlier today, when I went for that walk.’

‘When you were upset?’

Charity nodded. ‘He comforted me. I feel—’ She paused. ‘I feel safe when I’m with him. Hopeful.’

‘That’s because all you’re used to is Niall, who’s anything but safe and hopeful.’

Charity didn’t say anything.

‘I’m pleased,’ Hope said, a small smile on her face. ‘I like Dan. Mainly because he’s not Niall Lane. But also because he seems like a good person.’

‘He’s moving to the States.’

Hope’s face fell. ‘Oh, that’s a shame.’

‘He’s giving me a lift to Southampton though.’

Hope raised an eyebrow. ‘He
is
keen.’

‘I guess. It feels a bit crazy.’

‘The good kind of crazy?’

Charity nodded. ‘The good kind. I’m not sure I could cope with any more of the bad kind of crazy.’

‘Me neither. In fact, I have some news myself of the good kind of crazy.’

Charity smiled. ‘You do?’

‘I sent those poems I wrote in Austria off to a small publishing house and guess who called me today?’

‘An editor?’

Hope nodded, the excitement in her eyes making Charity yelp with happiness. She jumped up and ran around the table, hugging her sister from behind. ‘That’s amazing, Hope!’

‘He thinks they would make a wonderful book of poetry,’ Hope said, peering up at Charity. ‘I just need a few more poems to send to him then he wants us to meet up in Oxford. So I’ve done something spontaneous. I’ve booked a holiday to Kazakhstan to see the forest Faith loved the most.’

Charity’s mouth dropped open. ‘Wow, when?’

‘July. Remember, Faith told us the forest was flooded after an earthquake in 1911 which caused a landslide? One of the survivors is turning a hundred and there’s going to be a special vigil for him by the lake. The editor who’s interested in my work thinks it will be really inspiring to go.’

‘Sounds it. You’re going alone?’

‘Didn’t you go to India alone? I’ll have diving buddies.’

‘That’s brilliant, Hope, bloody brilliant.’

‘I know. I’m so excited.’ Hope grabbed Charity’s hands and squeezed them, her grey eyes filling with tears. ‘I know it’s not far but I’ll miss you. We
are
going to sell the café, you know.’

Charity felt tears spring to her own eyes. She loved her sister so much. ‘We will. And anyway, it’s just a six-month contract. I’ll come back for your birthday and then there’s that festival we said we’d go to together.’

Hope nodded resolutely. ‘We will.’

The next morning, just as she had the first time she’d left home, Charity stood in the middle of the living room with her large red suitcase, looking around and breathing in the memories: a teenage Hope leaning down to pull a book out from one of the piles around the room, red hair trailing the floor. Faith curled up on the patchwork red and black armchair as she flicked through photos of underwater plants, a look of concentration on her pretty face. And then their parents, watching some documentary or another, her father’s legs stretched out on his old leg-rest, her mother’s curled under her, like Faith’s. And there, a teenage Charity sitting on the window seat, seeing if she could see any sign of Niall in the distance.

Charity’s stomach sank. Niall. He’d be devastated if he found out about her and Dan. But he’d made his bed, hadn’t he?

An engine rumbled outside. She looked up to see one of Dan’s plush cars pull up outside, a sleek green Jaguar. She smiled.

‘Not a bad chariot,’ Hope said from the doorway, a cup of herbal tea in her hands. She put it down and walked to the window, the two sisters watched as Dan stepped out of the car. He looked unbearably handsome, his blond hair shining under the sunshine. He adjusted the collar of his blue polo shirt then squinted up at the sun.

‘He’s rather gorgeous, isn’t he?’ Hope said.

Charity smiled. ‘Not bad.’

‘Don’t get chocolate on those expensive car seats.’

‘I’ll try not to.’

‘And remember to say
loo
, not toilet. Posh people don’t like the word toilet.’

‘His father ran tourist boats, Hope. He isn’t the Prince of Wales.’

Hope smiled. ‘Shame. I’ve always wanted to meet Princess Di. Do you think we look a bit weird just standing here watching him?’

‘Completely.’

Dan looked up and Charity waved at him then turned to her sister. ‘Obviously, this isn’t goodbye.’

‘Obviously. Just a brief interlude in the drama of Hope and Charity.’

‘Very brief. There’s the festival…’

‘…and my birthday.’

Charity’s face collapsed and she turned away. It felt like she was leaving for good, which ought to make her happy but she knew she’d miss her sister.

‘Oh come on,’ Hope said, pulling Charity into her arms, her own voice filled with tears. ‘It’s just Southampton, not Timbuktu. And you’ll only be gone six months.’

‘I know, but I’ll miss you.’

‘I’ll miss you too,’ Hope said, her voice sounding very small for a moment.

Charity put her hands either side of her sister’s thin face. ‘Remember to be nice to the customers.’

‘I’m always nice to the customers!’

‘And stop feeding the seagulls leftovers. You think I don’t notice but I do.’

Hope sighed. ‘If I must.’ She picked up Charity’s box and opened the door, Charity following with her suitcase. Dan was standing on the pathway, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Charity held her breath for a moment as he looked into her eyes, her head swimming slightly.

‘Drive carefully,’ Hope said to him. ‘Precious cargo on board.’

‘I will,’ Dan said, his eyes still on Charity.

‘And don’t let her feed any seagulls,’ Hope added.

Charity laughed. ‘Oh, Hope, I really will miss you.’ They gave each other a hug and, as they pulled away, Charity noticed tears fill Hope eyes. ‘I love you,’ she said quickly. She didn’t often say that to her sister but she’d so wished she’d said it to Faith before they lost her.

Hope smiled. ‘You too, Charity.’

Dan took Charity’s suitcase and Charity gave Hope’s hand a quick squeeze then she followed Dan down the path, away from the home that she’d grown up in, and which held such wonderful and terrible memories.

During the journey they talked as though the kiss hadn’t happened. But the tension in the car was there, slight glances, the way Dan watched her lips when she talked, her desperate desire to slide her hand over his each time he changed gear.

Halfway there, Dan pulled over on to the hard shoulder and pulled her into his arms, kissing her as cars whizzed by, making the car rock gently each time. Charity reached up, smoothing her fingertips through his hair, moving closer to him, her chest now against his, feeling the thump of his heart.

After a while they both looked up at each other.

‘Sorry, I had to do that before I crashed the car,’ he said.

She searched his face, saw the fine lines around his green eyes, those long black lashes, the straight line of his tanned nose. She couldn’t help herself as she reached up, her fingers tracing a line down his cheek.

He put his hand over hers and leant down, pressing his lips softly against hers again. She sighed and folded into him.

‘I suppose we better carry on driving if we want to get there by lunch,’ Dan said reluctantly.

‘I suppose.’

He started the car up again and it wasn’t long before they arrived in Southampton. Her flat was housed in a tall brown brick house with large white sash windows. She hadn’t actually visited it yet, just agreed to rent it after seeing photos that were sent to her in the post. But it was perfect, just a few minutes’ walk from the university with a large sitting room and bedroom, and lovely period features such as ornate cladding on the ceilings and marble fireplace.

When they got into the flat, she looked out of the window imagining Faith jogging along the streets below to get to a lecture,

‘Gorgeous view,’ she said.

Dan didn’t respond so she turned around. He was watching her intently, his chest rising and falling, and, before she knew it, they were walking towards each other. Dan wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips gently against hers. She felt that softening she’d felt the day before during their first kiss, right in the very core of her, making her relax against him.

As their kisses grew deeper, Dan carefully pulled her jumper over her head, both of them laughing as Charity’s dark hair grew static, standing on end. As she unbuttoned his shirt and pressed her hands against his warm tanned chest, they smiled at each other. With his eyes still on hers, Dan undid each button of her jeans and pulled them off for her, kissing her bare feet as he did so. She unbuttoned his jeans, gliding her fingers over the gold hair on his calves, feeling the muscles and soft skin.

They touched each other gently, carefully, Dan’s face intense as his fingers, lips and tongue explored every part of her, savouring her until she couldn’t bear it any more. She wrapped her legs around him, pressing herself against him, making him enter her with a gasp, and she saw a brief moment of vulnerability in his eyes.

It was so different from being with Niall. He’d been fast, passionate, lifting her into positions, nipping at her ear, moaning and rocking. Being with Dan was like soft ripples building in intensity instead of violent storms.

Charity woke later not even aware she’d fallen asleep. Dan was in the small kitchen in just his pale blue boxer shorts, blond hair in his eyes as he beat an egg in a bowl.

‘I didn’t know I’d brought eggs with me,’ Charity said, wrapping the sheet around herself and padding into the kitchen.

He glanced up, smiling. ‘I did.’

‘You’re so organised.’

He put the whisk down and reached for her hand, pulling her into his arms. ‘You smell divine,’ he murmured into her ear. ‘Just you, no perfume. Natural. I like it.’

‘I
do
wear deodorant.’

He laughed. ‘I know.’ His face grew serious as he gently moved her sheet away. ‘Let me look at you.’ She shook her head shyly, burying her face into his neck. ‘After what we’ve just done together, I can’t believe you’re so shy,’ he said.

‘I can’t help it.’

He slipped a hand beneath the sheet, smoothing it over her curves. ‘I can’t stop touching you,’ he said. ‘I feel like Christopher Columbus discovering new lands.’

‘Now I know how you win over models, it’s those cheesy lines.’

‘It’s true though. I’m used to straight lines, you’re all curves.’

Charity frowned. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good thing.’

‘It’s wonderful.’ He looked into her eyes. ‘You’re wonderful.’

‘I can’t believe you’re here with me.’

He shook his head, incredulous. ‘Me neither. It’s a bit crazy, isn’t it?’

‘A good kind of crazy,’ Charity said, thinking of the conversation she’d had with Hope. ‘When do you need to go to the States?’

‘Need? You forget I’m my own boss. I choose when to go. You start your job in a week, right?’ Charity nodded. ‘Okay, let’s enjoy this week together. How’s that sound?’

Charity smiled. ‘Perfect.’

When Charity woke each morning over the next week to find Dan there, she was amazed. She watched him sleep, cheeks flushed, blond hair hanging over his closed eyes, and her heart throbbed. She’d wondered how he would cope in her little flat considering he was used to space and luxury. But he seemed at home, in fact, they hardly left the flat, both of them discovering they were too desperate to get back into the flat’s small bed to waste time going out for dinner. When Charity did leave to do some shopping, she loved returning to find Dan’s long body draped across the blue sofa, a book in his hand, designer glasses perched on his nose. Or a phone pressed between his ear and shoulder as he whisked a stir fry up in the kitchen, one hand stirring the food, the other flicking through paperwork, somehow managing to continue running his company despite being in the middle of Southampton in a tiny flat.

When they made love, she loved how Dan’s gentle way of touching could make her feel so frantic with feeling. It didn’t surprise her that he seemed to know just how to make her react: a touch here, a kiss there and she was arching her back, moaning, melting into him and wanting more. She imagined he was like that in every part of his life, careful, measured, aiming for the best possible result. Perhaps it ought to feel cold, but it didn’t. The way he looked at her, like she was the most remarkable thing he’d ever seen, filled her with warmth.

At night he woke instantly when she had nightmares about Faith. And the images would quickly disappear as Dan whispered in her ear to calm her. Niall had been a deep sleeper, barely noticing when she cried out.

The night before her first day at work, he made her dinner and the small flat was abuzz with tension. She was nervous, not just because it was a new job but also because she’d be based on the very campus her sister had been based on. She also couldn’t bear the idea of Dan leaving. He seemed to feel the same, brow creased as he ate.