The Secrets Women Keep (19 page)

Jess looked embarrassed and mumbled something about it not mattering, shaking her arm free.

‘Well you thought it did a minute ago,’ accused Anna, spitting the words out. ‘When you were blaming me for ruining Dad’s memorial.’

‘Anna, that’s enough!’ Eve interrupted, tightening her hold on her arm, feeling the bone. ‘Stop this immediately. Both of you. Today’s about Daniel and Rose, not
about you. Your job’s to support your mother, not spoil things by fighting like children.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Anna and Jess spoke at once. Jess couldn’t look at Eve, clearly ashamed of the scene they’d been making. Anna held her head high, a defiant glint in
her eye.

‘Until now, we’ve all been admiring how well you both did. Don’t spoil it. It must have been difficult to speak about him in front of so many people, but you gave a wonderful
warm and funny tribute. And it really doesn’t matter which of you said what. Dan would have been touched.’

Anna grunted as if to say
I told you so
. Jess blew her nose, hard.

But Eve hadn’t finished. ‘You said it together and that’s all that mattered.’

‘You’re right, of course. I’m truly am sorry. I’m just upset.’ Jess put the tissue away, blinking quickly.

‘We all are. And grief can make you behave out of character sometimes.’ In fact, nothing seemed to be much out of character here, but calming the storm before Rose got wind of it was
what was important.

The level of surrounding interest in the conversation had waned and the chatter had resumed. Only one or two people still bothered to sneak the odd look.

‘What’s up, Mum? A’right?’ Charlie, Eve’s eldest son, came up behind her. Curly-haired, attractive in his rarely seen suit, he looked as if he couldn’t get
out of the hotel soon enough. The red trainers sticking out from under his sober black trousers gave away his rebellious streak.

‘We’re fine.’ Eve dismissed the incident airily, although Anna and Jess’s pinched expressions said different. ‘Where are the others?’

‘In there somewhere, I think.’ He gestured at the dining room. ‘Coming for a snout, Anna?’ He pulled a packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. If he noticed the
frosty atmosphere, he ignored it.

Eve refrained from comment but she wanted to snatch the pack from him, delivering the usual lecture in a few sharp words: filthy habit, filthy smell and it kills you.

‘Dying for one.’ Anna reached into her bag for her tobacco pouch and, without saying any more, followed Charlie outside.

‘Dan would have hated this,’ Rose whispered to Terry. The guests had moved from the lounge into the dining room, where the splendid and generous buffet organised by
Jess was laid out on a long table, decorated with flowers from Anna. Proof of a rare moment when the sisters had worked in harmony. ‘Buffets belong in his Room 101. We always disagreed, but
if I had the choice, I’d get rid of those awful drawn-out meals where you’re stuck beside someone you barely know and don’t want to know better. That’s my idea of
hell.’

‘Well, you should be thinking of yourself as well as of him.’ Terry worried at a pattern on the carpet with the toe of his shoe.

‘Better to be able to move around and talk to everyone who’s come. They’ve all got something to say about him.’ She was feeling much better now the service was over and
so many people had shared their memories of Dan and what he meant to them. She felt an unexpected wave of affection for her brother.

He looked startled as, with a rush of emotion, she clutched his hand. Then he cleared his throat. ‘Sis, do you think we could talk?’ The scuffing of his foot intensified.

‘What? Now? Hardly the ideal moment for a heart-to-heart.’ She could feel his hand pulling away from hers, but she held on. Eve had said he hadn’t been himself since the
redundancy, and Rose now saw that for herself. Terry had diminished in every way; not just in confidence, but physically too. His suit hung loosely from his shoulders.

‘Well, perhaps when all this is over.’ He freed his hand with a sudden pull.

‘All this?’ Rose wrapped her arms around herself instead. ‘For God’s sake, Terry.
This
is Daniel. I’m trying to come to terms with what’s happened. I
know it’s a difficult time for you too, but you can’t expect me to behave as if he’s just popped out to get a sandwich.’

He ran a finger between his collar and his neck, as if it would help him breathe. ‘Of course not. You know I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. But we do need to talk about the
hotels. About what’s going to happen.’ A note of something like desperation had crept into his voice.

‘We do. We will,’ she reassured him, sympathetic but firm. ‘Just not during Dan’s memorial.’

He sighed as if all the cares of the world had been piled on to his shoulders.

‘Terry, is something wrong?’ Those years when her little brother depended on her came rolling back. With four years between them, if he fell, she’d be there to find the
Elastoplast; if he wanted a sandwich, she’d make it. Once he had tripped down the stairs and badly gashed his head. Their parents, notorious locally for their hands-off approach to parenting,
couldn’t be found. By the time the two children arrived at the doctor’s, a half-hour walk away, they were both bloody and hysterical. Not long afterwards, thanks to a rich and generous
godfather, Terry had been sent away to boarding school. ‘Make a man of him,’ they’d said. But it wasn’t a man who came back, just an introverted, gauche teenager with whom
she had little in common. She had gone to university and they’d rarely seen each other until he was in his twenties. ‘You can talk to me,’ she added, ashamed of the little bit of
her that hoped he wouldn’t.

He shook his head, still concentrating on the carpet. ‘I can’t,’ he muttered.

‘Are you in some kind of trouble?’ She leaned towards him.

His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. ‘No. Nothing to worry about. We’ll talk another time.’ He stepped away from her. Before she had time to say anything more, two old
friends came up to offer their condolences, and her concentration was focused on them.

After a few more quiet words with her, Eve left Jess to find Adam, knowing that she would find the comfort she wanted with him. Will was still behind her, waiting.

‘I’m impressed,’ he said, pushing his glasses up his nose. ‘You averted a full-scale international incident.’

‘I feel so sorry for them. Especially Jess. She was very close to Dan.’ Will didn’t need to know the full story of what had happened.

They followed the line through to the buffet, filling their plates then returning to the lounge, where they found an empty sofa and began to talk. Half an hour later, their food remained largely
uneaten, knives and forks still wrapped in their red napkins. However, Eve was beginning to wish that she hadn’t followed his suggestion to accompany him to the buffet so impulsively. The
emotion of the occasion itself, the wine, the shock of seeing Will had all combined to fling her at him before she’d had time to think. He was giving her a heart-rending account of his
personal life. His relationship with Martha, the woman he’d left her for, had bitten the dust years earlier and he was now widowed, his wife, Lindsay, having died of ovarian cancer a couple
of years ago. His children, Jamie and Tess, were in their teens and mostly lived with their aunt because Will was away travelling so much on photographic assignments. Eve was torn between listening
to his story and walking off to find Rose and to check that Terry was all right. But attraction (she couldn’t deny it) and a reckless excitement kept her there. If anyone had told her that,
meeting him again, she’d have succumbed like this, she’d have laughed.

As she raised her glass, Charlie and Anna walked past. Even though she had no reason to feel guilty, she didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea. After all, it wasn’t as if
she’d be seeing Will again. This was just an unexpected but superficial catch-up. However, her son and her niece didn’t even give them a second look. Of course they didn’t.
Middle-aged and invisible, that was all they were to the younger generation. On second thoughts, perhaps that was a good thing: invisibility could be liberating. She held on to that thought.

‘He’s one of mine.’ She gestured towards Charlie’s back: a wiry figure with an unmistakable limp from an old football injury. The packet of American cigarettes was still
in his hand. Beside him, Anna had paused to roll another of those hideous-smelling things she insisted on smoking. Eve could never understand why Rose didn’t make a fuss.

‘Yours?’ Will sounded surprised. ‘Somehow I’d never imagined you with children.’

‘You probably thought I’d stay single, devoted to your memory for the rest of my life. If you thought at all.’ She’d heard enough. He was the one person who had ever
really hurt her. After everything that had once gone on between them, she didn’t have to put up with anything he said any more. She took her plate and began to stand.

‘That’s not what I meant.’ He grasped her wrist to stop her leaving. ‘I don’t even know why I said that. Sit down, Evie. Don’t go yet.’

His touch sent a shockwave through her. She saw the appeal in his eyes.

‘Please.’ That familiar twist of the mouth into a half-smile, the right eyebrow raised. Those small things that had made her unable to resist him in the past.

Aware that whatever she did next, leaving or staying, was likely to be something she might regret, she hesitated. Without warning, an impetuous desire to ginger up the routine of her life took
over. She looked around. Terry must be in the dining room. He’d be all right. She unrolled her knife and fork from the napkin, smiled and sat down again.

‘Have you met Simon Connelly?’

Jess was introducing Rose to someone she didn’t immediately recognise. Tall, in his forties perhaps, he looked newly scrubbed, his face smooth, his hair gelled back. His suit was obviously
expensive and worn with ease. He offered her his right hand.

‘No, I don’t think so.’ He had a good firm handshake, but despite going through the motions, Rose’s attention remained on Jess. She was upset, although doing her best to
hide it, but Rose could hear the effort it was costing her daughter to keep her voice steady, and saw her fiddling nervously with the buttons on her jacket. She longed to reach out and comfort
her.

‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ There was something soothing about his northern accent.

She inclined her head. ‘Thank you. How did you know Daniel?’ How many of these conversations could she bear? None of them would bring him back.

‘Simon’s just moved down from Edinburgh. He was behind the renovation of the Arthur,’ Jess interrupted. ‘He’s an architect.’

‘Really? You did a good job.’ Rose’s sudden consuming thought was how overwhelmed she was with fatigue.

‘Are you all right, Mrs Charnock?’ He leaned forward, concern in his eyes. ‘Perhaps you should sit down.’

‘Yes, I think I will. Thanks.’ Jess on one side of her, and Simon on the other, the three of them walked into the lounge, where they found a group of empty chairs. Rose sank into
one, feeling relief zing through her body.

‘Can I get you some tea?’ Simon’s voice was warm, concerned.

‘Let me,’ interrupted Jess, jumping to her feet. ‘Mum, I wanted you to talk to Simon, because we’re hatching some great plans for Trevarrick.’

‘Plans?’ Had Jess spoken about them before? Rose couldn’t remember. And the last thing she wanted right now was to hear about them. Her mind was as far from Trevarrick as it
could be.

Today was about family, about Daniel, nothing else. As much as she loved the place, she couldn’t contemplate a conversation about renovating it, or whatever else Jess had in mind. Across
the room she noticed Eve and Will deep in conversation. What on earth was Eve up to? She hadn’t noticed before how remarkably low-cut her dress was. Quite daring for a woman their age. But
that was one of the things that made Eve such fun: she wore what she wanted. Rose looked down at her own neatly buttoned shirt, her tailored suit. She must look ten years older than Eve at least.
Eve’s legs were crossed, a definitely fuck-me shoe hanging off the foot that she flexed and pointed in the air. Rose glanced at her own boots, smart but dull by comparison. Will leaned
towards Eve, said something, and they both laughed. How animated Eve looked, as if life was as good as it had been when she was young. Rose hadn’t seen her look like this for years.

‘Don’t worry.’ Simon had stood up and was bending over her. ‘We can talk about all that another time. This isn’t the moment. I’ll leave you to
recover.’

She didn’t have the energy even to object politely as he turned away, pausing to have a word with Jess as she returned with the tea.

‘Sorry, Mum. I’m so excited about our ideas, but stupid of me to think you’d want to hear about them now. I’ll fix something else. Here.’ She put the cup and saucer
on the table and sat down. She’d put a couple of chocolate bourbons in the saucer: Rose’s favourites. ‘These’ll help. I bet you haven’t eaten a thing.’

Grateful, Rose took one, biting off a bit of the top layer: old childhood habit. ‘Thanks. But have you had anything? You’re looking terribly pale.’ As she drank the tea, she
listened to Jess’s reassurances that of course she was fine – not really hungry and just a silly argument with Anna – nothing, really. Despite her very real concern for her
daughters and her awareness that the day was as much of a trial for them as it was for her, Rose couldn’t give Jess her full concentration now that she had the opportunity. Everything she
said, she heard with half an ear. All the time her eyes were fixed on Eve and Will.

E
ve’s head throbbed as she opened the cupboard in the corner of her office that did as a kitchen. She pressed a couple of headache pills out
of the blister pack she kept there for emergencies. She filled up the kettle, flicked it on, then washed up two mugs that had been sitting in the sink for the last couple of days. Habit had her
spooning instant coffee into both mugs, sugar in one, milk in the other, before she realised what she’d done. Amy was no longer part of the Rutherford Literary Agency. She poured the water
into both anyway. That extra caffeine would get her through the morning.