Every Little Secret Page 16

  ‘Ali,’ Max called into the house.

  ‘She doesn’t wanna see you.’

  ‘She can tell me herself.’ Max stuck his boot in the doorway.

  Ali appeared at the end of the hallway in a sheer petticoat dress.

  ‘Five minutes.’ Tony grinned at Max and retreated into the kitchen.

  ‘I thought you said you’d finished with him,’ Max whispered. He reached out to Ali, but she held onto the door handle.

  ‘I have, I mean, I tried to, but he still comes over. He likes to help out, that’s all.’

  ‘You’ve not answered any of my calls.’

  ‘I’m not sure it’s a good idea you being here, Adam. It’s… difficult.’

  He stepped into the hallway and took her hands. ‘Look at me and tell me, is he hurting you?’

  Ali stared up at him but didn’t answer.

  ‘You still here?’ Tony stood in the kitchen doorway holding a can of Foster’s.

  Max let go of Ali.

  ‘We’re talking, that’s all,’ she said.

  ‘Make it quick, we have to get on the road.’

  ‘You’re leaving?’ Max asked Ali.

  ‘Only to go shopping, up town.’ She reached up and took her coat down from a hook behind the door.

  Tony sniggered.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Max strode towards him.

  ‘She’s leading you on again, matey boy.’

  ‘What do you know?’ Max followed Tony into the kitchen.

  ‘Nice little honey trap though, ain’t she?’

  ‘Don’t talk about her like that.’ Max’s legs were shaking but he squared up to Tony in front of the sink.

  ‘You know what she did with that cash you gave her?’ He snorted a laugh out of his broken nose and moved to the other side of the kitchen with surprising ease.

  Max glanced at Ali who stared at the floor.

  ‘Bought me this nice new ring, see?’ Tony held out his spade-like hand; a skull tattoo covered his forearm, and wearing a huge gold sovereign on his middle finger.

  Stolen more like, from one of the poor sods who had borrowed a bit of cash to get by.

  ‘And Ali showed me something you gave her too,’ Max said. ‘Show him, Ali.’

  ‘Adam, I told you it was just a game.’

  ‘Like roughing up girls, do you?’ Max stood one side of the pine table, Tony on the other.

  ‘Yeah and you like knocking them up, don’t you?’ Tony smirked. He crushed the can in his fists and let it drop to the floor. ‘Should have finished you off first time round.’

  He shoved the table into Max’s groin. Ali shrieked. Before Max could recover, Tony was wrestling with him across the table. Max landed a punch square on the side of Tony’s face and for a suspended moment he thought he’d knocked him out, but Tony hit back and Max banged the back of his head on the table. Ali looked upside down to him as he lay across it, her stricken face as he remembered it all those years ago. She shouted at him to watch out, but he felt dizzy and sick. Tony reached across to the sink and all Max saw was a flash of light followed by a searing pain through his left hand. Ali screamed. Tony grabbed his jacket, before smacking her round the face. Seconds later the front door opened and slammed making the whole house shake. The roar of an engine rumbled away into the distance.

  Max screamed in agony and tried to move his left hand, but it looked like it was pinned to the table with a carving knife, blood seeping towards him.

  ‘Call an ambulance,’ Ali shouted. She was crying and stroking his arm with trembling fingers.

  Max sensed someone approaching behind him. His vision was blurring but he could make out a boy standing with his arms around Ali’s waist.

  ‘It’s okay, Mum, I’ve called the police.’

  Chapter Forty-One

  ‘Adam, can you hear me?’ The nurse’s voice roused him. His eyes gradually opened as she took his temperature.

  ‘They’ve fixed your hand,’ Ali said. She was standing by his bed, her eyes rimmed red. He squinted at the heavy bandaging and swollen fingers.

  ‘They caught him, all thanks to you.’ She put her arm around the boy by her side.

  ‘What’s your name?’ Max asked.

  ‘Jamie,’ the boy said.

  Max searched Ali’s face, but she wouldn’t look at him, fussing instead with unpacking a bottle of Lucozade, a bag of grapes and a bar of milk chocolate. He looked at the boy properly now. His thatch of blond hair, a cheeky grin; older than Emily or Chloe. Maddy! He tried to sit up. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Eight thirty.’

  ‘I have to go!’

  ‘They might let you out tomorrow.’

  ‘No, you don’t understand, I have to go right now.’ He was supposed to be driving Maddy and the girls to Margate the next morning.

  ‘I don’t understand, where do you need to be?’ Alison asked.

  The nurse beside the next patient came over.

  ‘You’re not going anywhere tonight, my love, it’ll be lights out shortly. Come on,’ she said, pulling the covers up to his neck, ‘you’ve had a general anaesthetic, not to mention painkillers. You’re lucky there wasn’t more serious damage.’

  He pushed his head into the pillow and closed his eyes. He’d have to confess about Maddy and his daughters.

  Ali gave the boy some change and told him to get himself a drink from the vending machine.

  ‘He’s a good boy,’ she said.

  ‘We need to talk.’ He pressed his throbbing brow.

  ‘It’s been hard finding the right moment.’

  ‘I should have told you sooner…’ he began.

  ‘The thing is…’ She sat on the bed close to him.

  ‘We’ve all done things in the past…’

  ‘I know and I’ve been meaning to…’ She shook her head as she smoothed the sheet.

  ‘What?’ He touched her hand, waited for her to speak. She searched his eyes with hers.

  ‘I couldn’t go through with it.’

  He frowned.

  ‘Jamie…’

  ‘What? What are you saying?’ His heart fizzed to life like a firework. He made a move to sit up.

  ‘Jamie is your son… our son.’ She leaned over and hugged him, but he pushed her away. He tried again to sit up but groaned in agony.

  ‘Shit, Ali! What the fuck are you playing at? Why are you only telling me now?’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ She stood back and dabbed her eyes with her fingers.

  ‘How could you carry on letting me believe he didn’t exist?’ He screwed his good fist up and slammed it down on the bed, making her flinch.

  ‘I said I’m sorry.’ She stepped back.

  ‘When were you going to tell me? Were you going to?’

  ‘I needed to be sure… about us.’ She looked tiny standing there, head bowed.

  ‘What, you thought I wouldn’t care?’

  ‘You turned up out of the blue after so many years away. What was I supposed to think?’

  ‘I didn’t know about Jamie, did I? If I had, well…’

  ‘You’d have come looking for us, would you? Wasn’t I enough?’

  ‘Don’t twist it around. I can’t believe you’ve had that brick Tony playing dad to my son.’

  ‘He’s not all bad.’

  ‘You’re kidding, right?’ He nodded at his hand.

  ‘I tried to find you.’ She opened the Lucozade and offered it to him. He shook his head. ‘Turned out my aunt hated Dad, so she helped me hide the pregnancy, thank God.’

  ‘What about your psycho dad?’

  ‘Dad was in prison, until he died. I heard Ray’s out. The police raided Dad’s cab company and found evidence of loan sharking, money laundering, the whole shebang.’

  Max ran his good hand through his hair.

  ‘I named him after you, Adam James, but everyone knows him as Jamie.’

  Max repeated the name. ‘And you’re sure he’s mine?’

  ‘Who else?’ She put her hand
on her hip.

  ‘So what is he, six, seven?’

  ‘He’s six, born on 26 June 2011.’

  ‘I can’t believe it, Ali.’ He squeezed his fingers across his eyes. ‘Does he know about me?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘I wish you’d tracked me down.’

  ‘I told you – I tried several times. There was no trace of you; it was as though Adam Hawkins had vanished overnight.’

  Max shifted his legs. If he told her about Maddy now, she might stop him seeing his son. His son. He shut his eyes and let the thought float in his head untethered.

  She perched on the end of the bed, took her keys out of her bag, opened the photo keyring and showed it to him.

  ‘You had this all the time?’ He took it from her and examined the miniature photo of Jamie as a baby.

  ‘I told you, I needed to be sure about us.’

  ‘But you’re the one who kept putting me off.’

  ‘Tony was very… controlling.’ She dipped her head.

  ‘You should have let me help you.’

  ‘Well you tried and look what happened to you.’ She laughed.

  ‘Yeah, all right then.’ He handed the keyring back.

  ‘Jamie looks like you.’

  ‘And you, what about that chin?’

  They laughed.

  ‘Will you tell him now… about me?’

  ‘I promise I’ll talk to him tonight.’

  ‘God, if I’d known sooner.’ But the thought of not having his girls was unbearable. Gran always said things happen for a reason. But how could he tell Maddy about Jamie and Alison, it would kill her.

  ‘I needed to know you weren’t married or serious with anyone,’ she said.

  Max clenched his teeth and looked away.

  Jamie arrived back with a cold drink and a toy tucked under his arm.

  ‘You’ve been a long time,’ Ali said, smiling coyly at Max.

  ‘There’s a box of toys in that room down there. They’ve got Batman and Power Rangers and Pokémon.’ Jamie sat a teddy bear in the space under Max’s arm.

  ‘Thank you.’ He studied the boy’s face, the long lashes and sprinkle of freckles on his nose. The same nose and chin as his.

  ‘We’ll see you in the morning. Come on, Jamie, time to go.’ Ali kissed Max on the lips.

  ‘Thanks for helping me, Jamie,’ Max said.

  ‘That’s okay, I didn’t mind.’ He gave a little shrug. ‘Can we come back tomorrow, Mum?’

  ‘We’ll see,’ Ali said, putting her arm around Jamie’s shoulders.

  Max stared at the ceiling thinking through everything that had happened until long after they’d gone.

  * * *

  Max didn’t reach home until the following evening. He’d managed to speak to Maddy the night before, told her he’d had an accident on site and that the hospital was keeping him longer than he’d expected.

  The house was quiet except for the dogs as they slid down from the sofa to greet him. Jamie. Adam James. He opened the back door and whispered the name into the night. The ebony sky made the stars shine with intense clarity and the moon’s half face seemed to be smiling. The dogs’ nametags jangled as they bounded into the darkness. He punched the air and silently mouthed the word ‘yes’. He daren’t speak aloud in case Maddy heard him. There was no light at their open bedroom window, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t awake. Oh, Maddy. She’d be devastated if he told her he had a son, born a year before Emily. And what if she didn’t believe he hadn’t known about him?

  He sat on the garden bench and went through the events of the last two days. His hand was in a lighter dressing, his fingers still swollen. He took his wedding ring out of the pocket of his jacket and turned it over in his fingers. Something had shifted. Now he knew he had a son, he needed to provide for him. He’d missed so much of his life he couldn’t walk away and pretend he didn’t exist. The ring slipped from his fingers into the darkness.

  ‘Shit,’ he said to Daisy, who was panting at his side. He crouched down and pressed his good hand into the damp grass until he found it. He pushed it onto his finger. The dogs ran in front of him back to the kitchen.

  ‘There you are. I couldn’t sleep.’ Maddy was standing at the table, stirring hot chocolate. The smell made him feel hungry. How long had she been there?

  ‘Maddy, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘You want one?’

  ‘Please.’

  She lifted his bandaged hand and had a closer look. He flinched.

  ‘No better then?’

  ‘A little,’ he said.

  She poured hot milk into the mug. ‘So, are you going to explain to the girls why we didn’t go to the seaside? Emily has been talking about nothing else. They’ve been looking forward to it for weeks.’ She handed him the steaming drink.

  ‘I will, I promise. I’d have come home last night if I could, but they drugged me for the op.’

  ‘You need to tell the girls that.’ She glared at him and carried her drink upstairs.

  He hadn’t meant to let them down, but it wasn’t his fault, was it? How could he explain it to them without telling them about Ali and Jamie and Tony? He’d have to try and make it up to them. They were his special girls. And now he had Jamie too. His son. He took a large sip of hot chocolate and scalded his mouth.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Maddy: October 2019

  Maddy stands outside the Red Cross charity shop. Bunty annuals are displayed on a table in the window. She has some at home, along with a pile of 1970s Beano comics and a couple of Matchbox cars Max bought at a boot sale. He was always saying how he couldn’t wait to dig them out for the children. He’d hoped for a boy when she was pregnant with Chloe; she guessed that, but he hadn’t said. She sweeps her hand across her bump.

  There she is, stacking shoes without a care in the world. Sundress skimming her barely-there curves. Except her bump looks twice the size it was before. A ludicrous imbalance, taking into account her twig-like limbs, not even the circumference of her own wrists. Max lied when he said those skinny girls weren’t his type.

  She did her usual check of Facebook before leaving the house. Alison posted late last night, asking if a cat would have left the dead crow on her mat. Maddy enjoyed trawling through the answers. Most agreed that a cat would have done it, while other people posted funny GIFs and told her it was a creepy warning.

  The bell above the door announces her arrival. Alison looks over her shoulder and smiles. A young man is up a ladder, whistling. Maddy heads for a rack of homemade greetings cards, the only thing in the shop that’s new. Her face is burning. She grips the handles of her shopping bag tighter and keeps her head down. There’s a faint musty smell of old clothes, of death. Discarded, unwanted items; a clothes graveyard. People bag them up and bring them here like she did with her mum’s things. Maybe some people don’t wash the clothes first. She could never bring Chloe’s things here. No one is having those. Just the thought of having to let them go, makes her catch her breath. What if she saw another child wearing Chloe’s favourite dress? She should bring Max’s clothes though. There’s no point keeping them. Doesn’t look like he’s coming back. They’d look strange hanging here on the rail or on a dummy. The thought suspends in the air like an invisible thread.

  Gravitating towards a rack marked ‘Vintage’, she fingers a blue dress, frayed around the seams as a fashion detail. Someone bold must have loved wearing it once. There are whole racks full of people’s personalities. She flicks through another and finds a shift dress in a thick woven material with mustard-coloured swirls and tiny pockets above the hem. Similar to one she wore as a child. The sound of funfair music starts playing in her head. Margate beach on a warm sunny day, a bucket and spade and a stick of rock. With the father she loved and thought she knew so well. She looks up to see her mother nod at her from an upright mirror.

  Maddy glances over at Alison behind the till. Does she know he might be dead?

  ‘Three fifty, please,’
Alison says to the woman she is serving. She holds up each item of clothing and folds them. ‘Aren’t they lovely?’

  ‘Having a boy next, so I thought, yeah, why not,’ the customer says, rubbing her bump, ripe as a melon.

  ‘I’d love a girl,’ sighs Alison. ‘Always wanted one of each.’

  Maddy picks up a candle. The wick is scorched, and the centre is a deep scar of melted wax. She stands in the queue behind the woman and her pushchair. Maddy can feel her baby moving. She puts a hand to her bump and imagines the shape of a little fist or heel kicking out.

  When the woman leaves, Alison smiles, sly as a cat. As she takes the candle from her, Maddy’s eyes fix on her necklace, a small silver asymmetrical heart. Her hand shoots up to her own neck. It’s exactly the same one as Max bought her for her birthday last year, but she’s not been wearing it lately. Instead her fingers curl around her mum’s garnet pendant.

  Alison picks off the label with her child-like fingers and wraps the candle in crumpled tissue paper. ‘Thirty-five, please.’ She takes the money from Maddy’s hand, skimming her palm with her pointed nails. Maddy flinches.

  ‘Sorry, did I catch you?’ Her faint blue eyes are surrounded with dark, hollow sockets.

  Maddy is silent.

  Alison drops the coins in the till.

  ‘When are you due?’ Maddy asks, even though she already knows.

  ‘Nine weeks to go, God help me.’ Alison smiles and blows air out of her pursed lips. ‘What about you?’

  ‘Fourteen weeks.’ Maddy looks down at her roundness.

  ‘They say your second is always quicker, don’t they?’ Alison tips her head to the side, trying to meet her eyes.

  ‘Mine was.’

  ‘So, is this your third?’

  ‘Yes. But my second child died.’ Maddy tries not to notice Alison’s wide smile suddenly drop.

  ‘I’m so sorry… are you okay, you’ve gone very pale.’

  Maddy’s legs start to tremble. Chloe’s dead face appears in her mind. She puts a hand to her forehead, it’s throbbing and hot. She doesn’t want to be here, she wants to be at home with Emily so she can hug her tight.

  ‘Come and sit over here. You don’t look right at all.’ Alison brings a chair around to the front and Maddy collapses into it. Her back, underarms and neck are drenched with sweat.