My Sister’s Secret

‘Oh, Mother, honestly,’ Hope had said, pushing in front of her mother and opening the door, her usual bolshie self. But then she’d gone very quiet. ‘She’s not here.’

Her mother had run downstairs and the two sisters leant over the banister, watching as two police officers followed their parents through into the living room. Charity learnt later they’d found Faith’s student card in the pocket of a woman’s body they’d found near the main road out of Busby-On-Sea and had come straight to the house. A few minutes later, Charity heard her father’s low desperate moan.

Charity felt as though the world was tilting. Her father never cried. She’d grabbed Hope’s hand and they waited quietly as the police officers left. When their parents came to them, Charity could tell from the looks on their faces something dreadful had happened. She’d run into her room and buried her face into the pillow, unable to face it. It had been Hope who’d eventually said the words.

‘Faith died,’ Hope said into the darkness, her voice close to Charity’s ear. ‘We’ve lost her. It’s just the two of us now.’ Then she’d felt her sister’s tears on her cheeks, mingling with her own. The grief had been astounding, making her head swim, her breath come short. She saw her sister in a quick succession of images: by the sea, hair sweeping out behind her; tucked up beside Charity in bed, reading stories to her; at Christmas, the three sisters sipping hot chocolate around the tree.

All gone.

The last item in the box was an article she’d kept, reporting Niall’s sentence.

LOCAL MAN JAILED OVER HIT AND RUN FATALITY.

Eighteen-year-old local Niall Lane has been sentenced to two years for causing death by dangerous driving. He was seen driving from the scene by a witness after knocking over nineteen-year-old Faith Winchester on Ashcroft Road in the early hours of 21st March this year. The witness found the victim at the bottom of the steep verge sloping down from the road into Busby Forest. An autopsy revealed she died from a traumatic brain injury, believed to have been caused by her head impacting with a rock. Faith Winchester lived in Busby-on-Sea all her life with her parents, the owners of the Busby Café, and her two younger sisters. She was a promising student in her first year at Southampton University and hoped to become a marine biologist.

Charity looked at the clock in her room. Midnight. It was now ten years ago today and yet the grief felt as sharp, as painful, as it did then.

Charity dug her hands into her long blue coat, the early morning mist swarming around her ankles. The road ahead of her curved around a corner, disappearing over a hill. Trees lined it, dipping over the road, making it seem darker than it was. It was hard to believe the sea glimmered just half a mile behind her, Busby-on-Sea now waking to another day.

She paused as she got to the precarious bend that had caused so many accidents as cars struggled to negotiate it. Exactly ten years ago today, Faith was found in a foetal position. Her scarf was later found on the road just above.

Why had she been walking on this road alone so late at night? She should have been in bed, asleep. That question had tortured the grief-filled silences her family had shared those first few weeks and months after Faith died, and ten years later, still no answer. Their parents died not knowing.

Charity closed her eyes, tears squeezing between her lashes.

When she opened her eyes again, a tall figure was approaching from the bottom of the hill. He was wearing a black leather jacket, blue jeans, dark hair shaved close to his head.

She recognised him instantly.

Niall Lane.

He paused, blue eyes narrowing. ‘Charity?’

She opened her mouth to say something but suddenly a roar filled the air.

Niall’s eyes widened as he pointed behind her, shouting her name. She turned to see a small red sports car bouncing around the bend and hurtling towards her.

Chapter Four (#ub46ec41e-2cb4-53d8-b1b8-7a8f9039b506)

Charity

Busby-on-Sea, UK

March 1987

The light from the rising sun illuminated the car’s exterior and in a flash, Charity saw a woman’s face streaked with mascara.

Tyres screeched over the road, the smell of petrol filling the air. Charity couldn’t move her legs, panic flooded through her.

But then strong hands were gripping her under her arms, pulling her out of the way as the car careened past her.

She looked up, saw Niall staring down at her. His cheeks were stubbled, his face tanned, dark circles under his eyes. Her whole body throbbed from being so close to him, from feeling his warm breath on her face, seeing those lips so close. She was shocked to feel the urge to press her lips against his like she used to do again and again.

Then the reality of the situation hit her.

She dragged her gaze away from Niall’s, watching the car zigzag across the road, finally coming to a stop with a shudder.

They both jumped up and jogged over.

Sitting in the driver’s seat was a dazed looking Lana North, the woman from the mansion, a small graze on her head, blood dripping down into one eye.

She peered up at Niall and Charity. ‘Whoops,’ she said sheepishly.

Charity placed the two mugs of steaming hot coffee on the table, avoiding the intense gaze of the elderly couple sitting there. It was clear word was getting out about what had happened that morning…and that Charity had been there with Niall. By the time the paramedics arrived to check Lana over, the road was busy – it was the only main road linking Busby-on-Sea to Southampton – giving residents plenty of time to see Niall and Charity standing there together. She’d been desperate to leave but Lana had grabbed her hand, told her to stay, a vulnerable look on her face.

How could she say no?

Niall could have left. But instead, he’d hovered nearby, watching Charity as though he were trying to figure out if she was real or not. She daren’t look back at him, her thumping heart betraying emotion she was trying hard to bury.

Charity peered towards the entrance to the café. Hope was at a doctor’s appointment so they hadn’t seen each other that morning. But she was due in soon, so Charity was hoping she could pull her to one side to break the news gently to her.

Charity wrapped her thick orange cardigan around herself and hurried back into the café. Was it her imagination or was it even busier than normal, despite spring being held off today by sharp winds and the threat of rain? People glanced up at her as she passed but she kept her eyes ahead of her, jaw clenched.

It was a small town. Gossip spread like wildfire, one of the many things that hadn’t changed in the years she’d been gone.

The door swung open then and her sister walked in. Hope paused at the entrance, eyes on Charity, and Charity knew in that moment Hope had already heard. Then she slammed the door shut and strode to the counter.

‘Tell me you didn’t know Niall was back,’ she hissed as she flung her purple suede coat off and grabbed an apron, barely looking at Charity.

‘No, of course not, Hope!’

‘They’re all loving this, aren’t they?’ Hope said, lowering her voice and casting her eyes over the busy café as Charity passed an order to her over the counter. ‘Nice bit of gossip to stave off the monotony. I just can’t believe Niall bloody Lane really is here. It makes me sick. What’s worse is people won’t just focus on the fact Lana North crashed her car. They’ll also be talking about the fact the man who killed Faith Winchester was with you, her sister, at the time.’ She scrutinised Charity’s face.

‘It was a coincidence, I swear,’ Charity said. ‘I just needed to go to the road, it is the anniversary of Faith’s death after all. Niall told me he’d gone there for the same reason. We—’

Charity fell silent as Mrs McAteer approached the counter.

‘What can I get you?’ Charity asked her, forcing a smile on to her face, pleased for an excuse to get away from her sister’s rage.

‘Just a hot chocolate, love,’ Mrs McAteer said, patting Charity’s arm. ‘Good work saving Lana North’s life.’

‘I didn’t save her. She was fine, just a bit dazed.’

‘My Gav knows one of the ambulance men. Apparently she’d had too much to drink.’

Charity thought of what Lana had said to her and the unmistakable smell of stale booze in the car.

‘Poor you, having to witness it after what happened to your poor sister on that road,’ Mrs McAteer continued, shaking her head. ‘And then to have Niall there too, the scum.’ Her lip curled up. ‘Bloody cheek, him returning to town. My Addie will be mortified when I tell her. Your poor sister must be rolling in her grave.’ Charity tried not to catch Hope’s eye. ‘And then to have some drunken rich girl driving her—’