Every Little Secret Read online

  ‘You wouldn’t be letting her down, she’d understand. It’s only been three weeks since Chloe was born.’

  ‘A few of us are going to talk about starting a book group. We’ve sort of been doing it while we were pregnant, but we don’t want to let it drift away, so we thought if we made it more official, maybe invite a few other readers in and organise how often we meet et cetera, it’ll give us all something more interesting to share other than weaning recipes and feeding times.’

  ‘That sounds perfect for you.’ He climbed in the driver’s seat. Maddy got in next to him.

  ‘It is. My friend Jo and I used to spend hours discussing the books we’d read.’

  ‘The one from school? Are you still in touch with her?’ He started the car.

  ‘No, she died in her early twenties.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Cervical cancer.’

  ‘Shit, that’s young. So this new book group could be in her honour?’

  ‘Yeah, I like that idea. I’ll see what the others think.’

  ‘Do they realise you’ve practically got your own library?’

  Maddy laughed. ‘Those old books of Dad’s? I don’t think they’d be interested. They’re more into the latest crime series or contemporary romances.’

  He only read DIY books or newspapers, but as long as she was happy, so was he.

  The other mums and dads were already there when they arrived. Diane jumped up to greet them, kissing them on both cheeks. She always managed to look like she’d stepped off a French catwalk. After lots of hugging and cooing at Chloe, they joined the rest of the group on the picnic blanket. An array of homemade food was already spread out. Max held Chloe while Maddy offered round the quiche and lemon sponge they’d made that morning.

  After they’d eaten, Max fed Chloe her bottle while Maddy chatted about the new book club. Diane made notes on an A4 pad. They decided after a lot of discussion to meet once a month and take turns choosing a book. Once a year they would select the book they all enjoyed the most and give it the ‘Jo Sawyer Best Read Award’ in memory of Maddy’s school friend. He was pleased to see Maddy back to her old self, making plans with her friends. He wanted to support her as much as he could.

  When they returned home, he insisted that Maddy go and get some sleep while he put the girls to bed. Although she was doing well, he was aware that if she became overtired, she could slip into depression again and he wanted to do everything he could to avoid it.

  It was the best part of the day for him, reading them bedtime stories, making up silly voices then watching them drift off to sleep. He hoped Gran was looking down on him, happy to see how lucky he was and that he’d not turned out so bad after all.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Alison: October 2019

  Alison unlocks the front door and cracks open the silence. Jamie runs in and switches on the television. She’s not keen on the amount he watches but is grateful he’s not asked for a phone yet, even though some of his friends have them already. She doesn’t need another expense. Eight seems far too young anyway. Poppy is asleep on the sofa. He gives one bark as an afterthought.

  ‘Great flipping guard dog you are,’ she says. There’s a strange, sweet aroma in the air. Sandra must have been round for the ironing, wearing some god-awful hairspray. She guesses Adam’s not home, but she stands at the bottom of the stairs and calls out to him anyway. Still with her coat on, she wanders into the kitchen. The post is in a neat pile on the edge of the worktop. Adam’s post has been opened. The washing up has been done and the clothes from the dryer are folded in a basket. The kettle is still warm. Must have just missed him. She lets the dog out of the back door and slams it shut. Thinks it’s all right to breeze in when she’s not here and not bother to leave her a note, does he? Not one reply to her texts to see if they’re okay. Jamie comes in pestering for a drink. She pours him a beaker of orange juice.

  Upstairs, a pair of Adam’s jeans and a T-shirt are hanging on the back of their bedroom door. He’ll be back later full of excuses. She changes out of her work clothes and sits on the bed, throwing herself back on the mountain of cushions. She’ll tell him she doesn’t mind if they don’t get married, even though she’s found the perfect dress. She clicks her phone and it’s there, glistening on the screen. It’s gorgeous and it would so suit her. Obviously not right now, but one day. After the baby is born, he might change his mind. But as long as they’re all together as a family, that’s the most important thing. This is the longest he’s been away without calling. He’s more than pissed off with her. A creeping chill runs up her spine. What if he doesn’t come back?

  Downstairs, she shouts at Jamie that he’s standing too close to the television. He’s holding his football under his arm and the patio door is open. In the kitchen, she rummages in the back of a drawer to find a pack of cigarettes tucked under a magazine. There’s one left. She can’t believe she wants to smoke, but she needs it. She can stop again. Secretly, she hopes Adam’s started again too.

  She stands outside the patio door and is about to light up when the baby kicks her. Shit, what is she doing? She stuffs the cigarette back in the packet, breaking it in the process. Serves her right.

  ‘Where’s Dad?’ Jamie whines. It’s hard to know what to say to him. He gives her a blank face every time she says his dad’s at work. The scrubby grass that died in the summer has turned to mud, churned over by the dog running in circles. There’s a square of lawn left and a tangle of plants they don’t know the names of. Adam isn’t much of a gardener after all and neither is she. Somewhere for Jamie to play, that’s what they decided when they moved in. If he’s not coming back, she’ll have it cemented over. She steps back inside and slides the door closed.

  Most evenings, lately, after Jamie is tucked up in bed, she browses fashion websites and buys a few bits and bobs to cheer herself up. They can’t really afford it, but a few more pounds here and there isn’t going to make much difference. If Adam were here, they would watch television after dinner or listen to music, usually his choice, Snow Patrol or Coldplay. She knows she should check up to see what bills have been paid and how much is left in the joint account, but Adam normally deals with the money side of things. Her shifts at the charity shop only cover a quarter of the mortgage and a few bills at a stretch, so there’s not much she can do about it until she talks to him. She daren’t even look at her credit card statement.

  Once she’s confirmed her order for slipper socks and a new scarf and gloves, she makes herself a hot chocolate and sits on the sofa to sketch last night’s dream, still vivid and disturbing in her mind. That bloody apple tree. She’s convinced it’s haunted, or there’s some bad karma about it. Adam said it was so old the developers decided to keep it, especially as it fell within their boundaries for a garden. But it gives her the creeps.

  In the dream, she could make out a face etched in the bark: a wide, twisted smile as the tree came to life. It bowed down and picked up little children, placed them on its branches, but the tree turned nasty, dropping them to the ground, breaking their bones. It’s been months since Jamie’s accident, but that day still haunts her.

  Her A1 sketch book is almost full. She’s done most of it while Adam’s been away. He’d be impressed. Rob thinks she should see if they’ll include her work in the local artists’ exhibition at the library. She’s not that good though.

  As she draws, she listens out for the front door, hoping to hear Adam’s key turn in the lock. She glances up from her sketch pad at the French windows. It’s almost dark outside. The parasol Adam never bothered to put away is flapping in the wind. A duplicate of the room is reflected in the black glass; the sofa, TV, house plants and lights look like they are out in the garden, overlapping images of reality.

  From where she is sitting, the tree isn’t visible and even standing at the window, her ghostly face looking back at her, she imagines its branches reaching out towards her. If someone were standing out there, looking in, she wouldn
’t be able to see them.

  The room is quiet except for the sound of Poppy snuffling then licking the floor. What if someone was watching her? She’s all alone in the house with a child; it would only take someone to note her movements to know that. She wants curtains. He’s always said no because of the extra expense but three panels of voiles would surely be better than nothing?

  She sits back at her drawing pad and sketches the features in the bark. She believes that if she can get this down, she’ll stop dreaming about it. Her hand moves quickly across the paper, smudging here, pressing more heavily there. She draws the children sitting under the tree, not wounded as in the dream, but smiling and laughing. If they had an axe in the shed, she’d like to go outside and chop the bloody thing down. Adam would go mental, but she must keep Jamie safe. Adam said he understands her fears, but that boys need to climb trees. She often wonders how they would have coped had things turned out worse that day. The thought of it makes her shiver. She stares at the front door, willing him to walk in.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Maddy: October 2019

  Maddy takes her mum’s Liberty print scarf out of her dressing table drawer and wraps it around her neck and shoulders. She’s started wearing the garnet necklace Mum wore every day too. It’s in the shape of a heart and outlined with tiny diamonds. Feeling close to Mum will give her the strength she needs to get through this nightmare.

  Today is a teacher training day, so she’s promised to take Emily to a soft play centre. Not her usual one, she tells her in the car on the way, but a new one she’s heard about in Huntingdon.

  They pull into the industrial estate and park in front of Wacky Warehouse. Emily bounces out of the car with excitement. Inside it’s packed with screaming children and loud pulsing pop music. She takes Emily’s shoes and coat and lets her run off into the ball pit, while she keeps an eye on her as she navigates through mesh tunnels with hordes of children.

  It’s not long before she spots the boy, pulling himself up a slide. A child is sitting at the top waiting. Jamie’s distinctive golden hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat. He turns around and slides down. The younger boy launches himself after him, his socked feet thudding into Jamie’s back. There’s no sign of Alison.

  ‘Hello Jamie.’ Maddy smiles and holds out a hand to him. He’s turned to shout at the boy behind but thinks better of it and frowns at her. She moves her hand closer to him. ‘Grab hold.’

  He takes her hand and she pulls him to his feet. When they are facing each other, she stops and blinks at him. Seeing him this close-up is a shock. He’s so like Max.

  ‘Are you all right? He gave you quite a kick,’ she stumbles over the words.

  ‘Do I know you?’ Jamie mumbles.

  ‘I know your dad. You probably don’t remember me. Is he here?’

  ‘No, Mum brought me. She’s gone shopping. I’m with Ethan for his party.’ He points at some children, but there are so many, he could mean anyone.

  ‘How do you know my dad again?’ His cheeks flush.

  ‘Oh, from years ago, we err… worked together. You’ll tell him you bumped into me, won’t you?’

  ‘I don’t know when he’ll be home.’ He says it in a sullen accusing way.

  ‘So, where is he?’ She rubs her hands together then twists them round, trying hard to suppress her impatience and irritation. She wonders if she grabs his shoulders and shakes him, he’ll answer her questions more quickly.

  ‘Working again, but I want him to come home. He doesn’t tell Mum when that will be and she moans at me all the time.’ He whinges like a teenager but he’s not even ten. How easy it would be to say she knows where Daddy is and why doesn’t he come with her to see him.

  Behind him, Emily is coming down a slide. Maddy waves at her, but by the time she reaches the bottom, Jamie has run off into a crowd of children and she’s lost sight of him. She berates herself. How could she think of doing such a terrible thing?

  ‘Where were you, Mum, I couldn’t see you?’ Emily says.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t see where you went.’ They buy muffins and drinks at the cafe and sit at a table near the area reserved for parties, where Jamie is eating his lunch. A woman comes out with a huge cake and the children sing ‘Happy Birthday’. Some of the parents arrive but there’s no sign of Alison. The birthday boy hands out party bags to the children leaving. Jamie is still sitting down drinking and eating his slice of cake. Perhaps Alison has been held up in traffic?

  Before long there are only three children left waiting for their parents. The birthday boy is already opening his presents from the enormous stack on the table, while his last guests look on. One of the teenagers who works there is going around the tables with a black bag, clearing away all the paper plates of uneaten food and drink. The mum is holding a list while speaking on her mobile. Maddy hears her say to a ginger-haired boy that his dad is on his way.

  ‘It’s your mum picking you up, isn’t it?’ she says to Jamie. He nods but doesn’t seem worried, as though he’s used to being abandoned.

  ‘Come with me,’ Maddy says to Emily when she’s finished her juice. She takes her hand and practically drags her over to the sectioned-off area. Jamie is sitting on his own now. ‘He can come with me.’ She touches his shoulder with her fingertips.

  The mum looks up at her, then at Emily.

  ‘I know where he lives. Alison is probably stuck in traffic and can’t answer her phone.’

  ‘She didn’t mention anyone else picking him up, I can’t just…’

  ‘She knows my dad.’ Jamie shrugs.

  ‘And you are?’ The woman is staring at Maddy as though she’s a serial killer.

  ‘Family friend. Don’t worry, though, if it’s a problem.’ Maddy casually flicks her hand. She gives Jamie a sorry look and turns to leave. What on earth is she doing? Where would she have taken him? She squeezes Emily’s hand and tries to blink away dark blotches in front of her eyes.

  Alison is marching towards her. She turns away just in time.

  ‘So sorry I’m late,’ Alison says loudly, waving as she pushes past Maddy, thankfully not noticing her, and Maddy doesn’t stop to look back.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Max: March 2017

  Max could hear Maddy upstairs reading to the girls when he came in.

  ‘Daddy!’ Chloe ran along the landing to greet him.

  He picked her up and gave her a hug.

  ‘Mummy’s reading Alice,’ Chloe told him.

  ‘Alice in Wonderland?’

  ‘Wonderful land.’ She giggled.

  He put her down and she took his hand, pulling him into Emily’s bedroom, where Maddy was sitting at the end of the bed holding the illustrated hardback from her own childhood.

  ‘You’re early,’ she said. He bent down and kissed her cheek.

  ‘Hello Daddy,’ Emily said, standing on the bed, arms wide for a cuddle. He kissed her forehead and hugged her.

  ‘We finished the job up in Ely, so I came straight home.’ He winked.

  Chloe got in bed next to Emily and picked up her comfort blanket. Maddy continued reading the part where Alice opens the little door and sees the beautiful garden.

  Max crept out. In their bedroom, he changed his clothes. He’d been working such long hours since Chloe was born. They were a happy little trio, sometimes he felt left out, like he was intruding.

  ‘Your dinner is in the oven,’ Maddy called out to him from the landing.

  He came and took Chloe from her but she was already asleep, so he carried her to bed.

  Downstairs, Maddy took his dinner out and put it on a tray. The Cumberland sausage, sweet potato and peas looked dry, but he didn’t say anything. It had probably been cooked hours before.

  ‘Shall I make you gravy?’ she said, reading his mind.

  ‘Please.’ He took a Guinness out of the fridge and popped the can open. The kitchen table was full of crafting stuff, as usual; two painted animal masks cut from old cereal packets
were drying on newspaper on one side and on the other stood a plastic tub full of old milk cartons cut in half and filled with earth.

  ‘What’s in those?’ he asked, pouring his drink into a glass.

  ‘We thought we’d grow our own sweet peppers on the windowsill,’ Maddy said. ‘I’ll have a glass of wine if you’re offering.’

  Later, they sat in front of the television. Maddy turned over to Endeavour. He’d have preferred Top Gear.

  Maddy picked up her knitting. She was always making or mending something and teaching the girls how to do it too. It was the sort of thing his gran used to do. Saving money and saving the earth, Maddy always said.

  The clicking needles weaving a symmetrical pattern distracted him. Maddy worked at such a rapid rate. Her mud-stained nails showed up against the cream-coloured wool. It had been a long time since they’d been out together, just the two of them, but Maddy didn’t seem bothered. He often suggested going to a restaurant, but she was always too tired or would rather cook something at home and watch a film on TV. She didn’t care about her appearance like she used to. She wore the same pair of jeans most days and it must have been months since she last went to a hairdresser’s or wore make-up. It didn’t matter that much to him, but sometimes he wondered if she was still a bit depressed. She’d never been quite the same since Emily’s accident. He wished they could talk more, or even watch the same crap on TV, but they didn’t agree on much of anything these days. All he seemed to do was work and sleep. But he didn’t like to complain. He was grateful for this new contract in Cambridgeshire, to be able to bring home a good wage. He wanted to give his children everything he never had and then some.

  ‘Have the dogs been for a walk?’ he asked, when her programme finished.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’m off to bed.’

  Long gone were the days when they went up together. He moved from the chair to the sofa and lay down, flicking through channels until he fell asleep.