The Secrets He Kept Read online

  The Secrets He Kept

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  TWO WEEKS EARLIER

  A LETTER FROM JACKIE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Copyright

  The Secrets He Kept

  Jackie Walsh

  PROLOGUE

  Smiles, tears, love, lies, deception. It all ends now. Blood flows from the wound, forming a warm blanket for me to lie in. The room blurs, my eyes flicker to a close.

  I knew it would free itself someday. The truth, the one I had imprisoned. It would break loose, and reveal its story. My story… Her story… His story.

  The room is soaked in anger. It’s stuck to the walls, the floor, the ceiling, almost visible in its intensity. Thick, dark anger, brought on from years of lying, of playing along with her charade. I should have stopped it. I know that now. But it’s too late. The truth is out there, stirring fear. Nurturing hate in its victims. All three of them.

  It came to me, years of thinking the worst before finding out what had really happened. What we had done, how we had lied to her. The pain seeped from her every word. Determined to bring it all out into the open. To fix the unfixable.

  Then he came, anger flying out of his mouth. Why had I told her? He didn’t want her to know. I tried to explain it wasn’t me but he wouldn’t listen.

  I thought it was all over, that they had left me to cry my tears. When the doorbell rang again.

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘Aaron… Cian,’ Tom calls out from the kitchen, alerting the boys that breakfast is ready. When I enter the room he hands me a cup of coffee, kissing me on the head, filling me with that sense of safety I get every time he’s near.

  ‘Morning, love, you look great.’ His dark blue eyes stare into mine so I kiss his lips and linger a moment. ‘Are we all set for tomorrow?’ he says, when I pull away.

  ‘Just about.’

  Placing two bowls on the kitchen table, Tom goes to the fridge, takes out a carton of milk and a bottle of water for me.

  ‘I’m sure it will be a great day tomorrow, Sal. I’m looking forward to it.’

  I’m looking forward to it too, looking forward to it all being over. For the crowds to be gone and peace restored, but I don’t want to say this and spoil Tom’s excitement. He loves doing things for the boys, bringing them to swimming classes, taking them to their favourite ice-cream shop and lugging them to football matches in the club, where the boys are still too young to understand what’s going on. But they love standing at the side of the pitch, laughing at their dad shouting at the referee.

  Moving my gaze to the window, I watch the heavy rain splash the glass and wait for the boys to run in from the playroom. They’re almost three. ‘The big surprise’ we called it the day we found out I was pregnant. ‘The bigger surprise’ when we found out it was twins. After years attempting to provide Amber with a sibling had failed, out of the blue, just like buses, two arrived together.

  ‘Do you want me to drop you in?’ Tom says, noticing the bad weather.

  ‘No, I’ll take my car, I’ve to pick up the cake on the way home.’

  The boys come rushing into the room, hoofing themselves up onto a chair, pulling the breakfast bowls closer to them. Tom winks at me with that old reliable smile, letting me know he has everything under control. He will take care of them. I can relax.

  As Aaron and Cian shovel Rice Krispies into their mouths like the winner is going to get a prize, I glance at the clock on the wall above the window.

  ‘Look at the time, I better get going.’ I kiss both boys, hugging them tightly before making my way upstairs to Amber’s room.

  Like most fifteen-year-olds on a Saturday morning, Amber is still asleep when I open the door. Her gentle breath warms my skin when I kneel over to kiss her. Amber stirs, eyes still closed as she mumbles, ‘See you later, Mom.’

  Before closing the door behind me, I take one last peek at her, then gently release the handle.

  ‘You might need this,’ Tom says handing me an umbrella when I get downstairs. ‘And this.’ He takes the bottle of water that he’d left on the table from behind his back and laughs. ‘I don’t know what you’d do without me.’

  ‘Neither do I,’ I say, hugging him briefly before taking the bottle and pushing it into my overloaded bag.

  ‘’Bye, Mom.’ Cian and Aaron sit at the window repeatedly shouting goodbye to me. Their little hands waving, air kisses blowing guilt my way. It’s like I’m leaving for a fortnight’s holiday, every time I go to work. Tom is standing behind them also blowing me a kiss. I hate leaving them, leaving Tom. But I don’t have a choice so I smile, wave and pull out of the driveway.

  Now I’m Sally the hairdresser.

  * * *

  The city is slower to wake on a Saturday. Less traffic. I get to the car park in no time, pick a spot nearest the exit and grab my bag from the floor. The rain has eased to a damp haze. It feels good, waking my senses, preparing me for the day ahead. Quickening my step, I continue my short journey towards the hair salon.

  Cake, sticky tape, paper cups. I close the list in my head and continue down the street. It’s eight in the morning, the birds are done, their song replaced by the opening of shutters, footsteps, the odd greeting. ‘Good morning.’ ‘Terrible day.’

  Moore Street is not the prettiest street in Dublin but it has a comfortable feel at this early hour. Traders pulling their stalls into position. Same stalls. Same positions. Fruit and veg, flowers and fish. The pungent smell from the fish stall forces me to hold my breath. I hurry past but the stench still manages to creep into my nostrils.

  At the top of the street, I cross the main thoroughfare and enter the coffee shop on the corner.

  ‘The usual, Sal?’ Graham, the coffee guy, already has his hand on the barista machine preparing my order when I step inside. There’s no one else here but in an hour’s time the queue will be out the door.

  ‘Thanks, Graham.’ I hand him the exact change which
I always have ready in

  my pocket. Then take my order and leave.

  When the boys were born, I cut my working hours to three days a week. Perfect, time for everyone, including myself. But circumstances beyond my control forced me back to work full time. And even though I’d prefer to be at home with Tom and the kids, it’s not the worst thing. I get to put make-up on first thing in the morning. Scan my thinning closet for something fashionable to wear and put my feet in high-heeled shoes. My day is spent in the company of adults, though at thirty-seven years old, I’m regarded as one of the old folk now.

  * * *

  Elsie is sitting in the usual spot outside the shop front when I arrive. Everything she possesses packed into two bags tucked tightly on either side of her worn frame. For the last two years she has sat under the narrow shelter provided by a small awning jutting out from the salon. This is the spot where she opens her sleeping bag at night and dreams about having a roof over her head someday. Elsie never speaks about the circumstances that led her to being homeless. But everything about her suggests it was not always the case. Her clothes, her skin, her knowledge of which restaurants to visit and which to avoid. I’ve been tempted to ask her how she lost it all and to tell her I nearly did too. But something in her dignity stops me, tells me not to go there, just let it be.

  ‘Thank you, Sally,’ she smiles, her teeth still holding up under the strain. She takes the bag from my hand, immediately opening it to get at the coffee and croissant.

  ‘Hold the door,’ Amy shouts, rushing towards me while balancing four paper cups in a cardboard tray. Standing back, I watch her go through in front of me. Amy’s hair is pink today. Last week it was orange. Hail the employee discounts.

  ‘Morning, all,’ I say, walking into the buzz. The shop doors aren’t open to the public yet and already I feel more alive.

  ‘Morning, Sal.’ Megan’s head appears up from behind the reception desk as she plonks a big book on the counter top. Her eyes don’t waste time looking at me. As my boss, Megan is too busy locating all the bits and pieces she needs to efficiently navigate the day ahead.

  ‘Hi, Meg.’ I walk towards the staffroom to the sound of Jason Mraz. Which is another thing I like about this place, keeping up to date with what’s going on in the world of music. Peppa Pig has no pull here.

  The smell of Coco Chanel welcomes me when I push the staffroom door open. Which can mean only one thing, Marie is here.

  Leaning forward, she shakes her head. Black glossy hair floats like great wings from side to side. A wild bird set free. But not for long. Marie captures the hair into her grip and wraps it tightly into a bun.

  ‘Hi, Sally, love the highlights,’ she mumbles, balancing a hair clip between her teeth. My fingers push at the fresh blonde streaks Sienna did for me yesterday, luminous above my flushing skin. Receiving a compliment from anyone other than Tom makes me blush. I always shy away from kind words. It took years before I said ‘thank you’ instead of coming up with some ridiculous explanation for having got something right.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I guess you heard?’

  ‘Heard what?’ And here we go. The news. There’s always some bit of news.

  ‘About Sienna. She left Alan.’

  ‘What? She did not.’

  ‘She did.’

  Sienna had been living with her partner for over ten years. She has two children and was, allegedly, for the past two years, enjoying a second relationship with Conor, a younger guy who supplies hair colour to the premises on a twice-weekly basis. It took a while for the rest of us to figure out hair colour was not the only thing he supplied on a twice-weekly basis.

  ‘But…’ I’m totally shocked hearing Marie relay the story… and yet a part of me is not. Sienna does what Sienna wants to do. Always has and I suppose always will.

  My mind rambles to my default mode. The victims. The poor children and Alan her partner. I could never do anything to hurt Tom or my kids. I’ve seen first hand the devastation it can cause.

  Anna is next to walk through the door, her face the colour of well-nourished grass, her eyes pickled. Anna currently holds the trophy for the most exciting social life. Out on the town almost every night. Drinking and dancing like there’s no tomorrow.

  ‘Hi, all, don’t talk to me, my head is banging.’

  Dropping her bag onto a chair she searches through the front pocket and pulls out a packet of paracetamol. Putting two pills into her mouth, she lifts a plastic bottle half full of water from a shelf, opens the bottle, smells inside then downs its contents.

  ‘Morning, Anna,’ Marie says, extra loudly, smiling at me in the process. ‘Beautiful day, isn’t it?’

  ‘Fuck off,’ Anna barks, before walking out of the room.

  Ten more minutes pass before the first client arrives in through the door. The young girl has blonde shoulder-length hair. She’s standing at the reception desk talking to Megan whose head is stuck in the computer. After a bit of toing and froing, Megan walks to where I’m standing.

  ‘Can you take this one?’ she says. ‘It’s just a blow-dry. Your first appointment is not due until half nine.’

  ‘Sure,’ I say, the interaction just a courteous exchange, it’s not like I have a choice.

  ‘Great.’

  * * *

  Megan directs the young woman to the wash basins where Louise, our new junior, waits with a head full of attitude and a towel in her hand. It will take a few minutes for Louise to finish, so I check my phone and see a text from Amber.

  Shit, what does she want now? Most of my lunch hours are spent going from one shop to another picking up something that Amber just can’t live without. I know I shouldn’t spoil her. But since she inherited the role of chief babysitter, her requests are worded to persuade me she deserves it.

  The young girl, Charlie, arrives back from the basin. Hair dripping, she sits on the seat in front of me. Beep, beep. Another text. I want to take the phone out to check the message but there are rules. No phones allowed while with a client.

  I could conveniently move it out of my pocket and leave it face up on the counter so I can read the message. I want to make sure Amber is okay.

  ‘You can get that if you want,’ Charlie says.

  ‘No phones allowed during work.’ Smiling, I plug the hair dryer into the socket below the counter while glancing up at Megan. She would have no qualms about pulling me up if I did check my phone.

  ‘Really?’ she says, taking her own Samsung in her hand. ‘I’d die without me phone.’

  The noise from the dryer puts an end to the conversation and I wait, wondering what Amber’s beep has in store for me? Will it be Penny’s, H&M or Mac?

  I switch off the dryer to brush through Charlie’s hair. ‘Are you going anywhere nice?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m going to a party tonight… It’s me boyfriend’s party.’

  ‘Well… we have to have you looking your best then, don’t we?’ Lifting her hair at both sides, I show her what it would look like if I clipped it into an upstyle.

  ‘He’s sixteen… Kenny’s his name… d’ya wanna see him?’ Charlie seems more interested in flicking through the photos on her phone than in her new hairstyle.

  I’m becoming concerned, my phone has beeped three times since Charlie sat down. I need to finish this head quickly and find out why Amber is being so insistent. I’ve told her a hundred times that I’ll answer her messages as soon as I get a chance.

  ‘This is him,’ Charlie says, lifting her phone into my view. I glance quickly.

  ‘Handsome,’ I say, barely noticing the picture.

  ‘Here’s another one of him.’

  I look again. This time I don’t glance. This time I stare. The photograph shows a man with his arm around Charlie’s boyfriend’s shoulder. The young boy is holding a trophy. The man by his side is wearing a pink shirt, blue jeans and a smile that I would recognize anywhere.

  Without asking, I take Charlie’s phone from her hand and hold it
closer to my face.

  ‘Who is that?’ I ask, pointing to the man I know is my husband, his arm wrapped around Charlie’s boyfriend.

  ‘Oh, that’s Kenny’s dad.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  That’s Kenny’s DAD.

  That’s KENNY’S Dad.

  THAT’S Kenny’s Dad.

  No matter which way I hear it, the words slice like razorblades through my mind. How could this be? What is going on? Fear flushes through my body, blurring everything in sight. The phone drops. I hear a gentle bump as it lands on the tiled floor. Bouncing, bouncing, bouncing. Everything goes dark.

  * * *

  Now I’m staring at two pairs of shoes. My own silver block-heeled sandals from Penny’s and black-wedged, runner-style Louis Vuittons. They can only belong to one person, Megan. Inhaling deep breaths as per the instructions being delivered to me, I lift my head slowly.

  ‘Are you okay, Sal?’ Megan hands me a glass of water which I accept with shaking hands. The icy cold fluid sends a jolt through my body forcing me to face the reason I became weak. The photo. The boy. The dad. What is going on? Why am I sitting on a chair in the staffroom with my colleague trying to bring me back from the dead? What the hell happened? Did I really see my husband in that photo?

  ‘Is she okay?’ Sienna opens the door and sticks her head round.

  Megan answers, ‘Yes, she’s fine, she’s fine, go back to work.’

  Megan is sitting on the bench beside me. I know she’s here, but all I can see is Tom, standing with his arm around a young boy. The pink shirt. The familiar smile.

  Swallowing the remainder of the water, I stand up and tell Megan that I’ll be fine. That the boys had a bug yesterday, maybe I caught it from them but I’m grand now. I sound stupid, no one gets a bug for ten minutes.

  ‘Do you want me to ring Tom?’

  ‘No! No, just give me a moment, I’ll be fine, honest.’ Tom is the last person I want to see. Even the mention of his name makes me want to check out again.

  ‘You can’t continue in work, not after getting weak, Sal.’ My God the woman is persistent.