My Sister’s Secret

She clamped her mouth shut and a hush fell over the café as Lana’s husband walked in.

He looked just as otherworldly as he had the day before. But when he stepped into a beam of hazy sunlight shining through one of the windows, the perfections slipped away. Dark shadows showed beneath his green eyes, the faint hint of stubble on his chin and cheeks and, as Charity peered closer, what looked like a trace of oil on the cuff of his shirt.

He looks better in the light, Charity thought. He looks better with those imperfections.

‘Can we talk somewhere, Charity?’ He glanced towards Mrs McAteer and smiled tightly. ‘Somewhere quiet?’

‘Of course, let’s go out back,’ Charity said, grabbing a bag of rubbish.

Dan took the bulging bag from her and smiled, following her out of the door. He threw the rubbish into it then got a pristine white handkerchief out with his initials on it, wiping his hands.

‘Long time since I put the rubbish out,’ he said.

‘How’s your wife?’

‘Fine. I must thank you for being there, she said you were a real comfort.’ He looked down at the tomato skin on his handkerchief. Then he peered back up at Charity and she noticed how very black his pupils and long lashes were, making the green of his eyes even more prominent. ‘I heard you’re a psychiatrist.’

‘A counsellor.’

He seemed to think about something for a moment then leant closer, lowering his voice. ‘I was wondering if you might talk to my wife? I’d pay of course: double whatever your hourly rate is.’

She frowned.

‘I’m afraid I’m not practising in any official capacity at the moment,’ Charity said. ‘Your wife would be better off going to a proper clinic or via the NHS.’

‘Lana will refuse, I know what she’s like. But she seemed to really like you. If we arranged for you to come to the house, have some privacy, she might open up more. I can pay double, treble.’

Charity sighed. She really wanted to help but it didn’t feel right. ‘I’m sorry. I can recommend a great counsellor a few towns away though?’

Dan raked his fingers through his blond hair. Then he forced a smile. ‘Of course. I’m sure she’s okay. Look, why don’t you come to dinner as thanks?’

Charity examined his face. Was this a ruse to try to get her to treat his wife over dinner?

‘That’s very kind of you,’ she replied, ‘but that’s really not necessary. It’s been enough for you to come here in person to thank me.’

‘Let’s say seven on Saturday evening?’ he said, as though not hearing her. ‘I know Lana would love to see you. I presume you know where our house is?’

‘But I—’

He smiled. ‘If you turn up, wonderful. If you don’t, then we feed the food to the fish. And if you see Niall Lane, can you mention dinner to him too? I hear he was quite the hero. I’ve tried to track him down but I think he may have left town.’ Charity felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Dan said. ‘But I very much hope we see you Saturday night, Charity.’

Charity watched him stroll away, his hands in his pockets. He paused a moment to watch a seagull fly across the grey skies above, then he disappeared around the corner.

‘So Niall’s left town, has he?’

Charity turned to see her sister standing at the door. ‘You heard that?’

‘Some. That’s good news though isn’t it? That Niall’s left.’ Her sister was scrutinising her face again.

Charity nodded. ‘Yes, I’m relieved. Very relieved.’

‘He better not come back. Now he knows you’re here, he might not be able to resist.’

‘Don’t be silly, Hope, it’s been years.’

‘Why silly? Feelings grow more intense with absence, especially when someone’s behind bars. They have time to think, to obsess…’

‘Hope, please don’t do this.’

Hope sighed. ‘Fine. So, are you going to go for dinner?’

‘It’ll be awkward, I don’t know them.’

‘It’ll be good for you to make new friends. I go out with the writing club lot, you ought to get out a bit too. Who knows, maybe you’ll become friends with Lana North and you can teach her how to drive properly?’

‘Oh, Hope,’ Charity said, shaking her head in disapproval. ‘You really are naughty.’

Charity went to walk back in but Hope grabbed her arm, looking Charity in the eye. ‘Just remember one thing if Niall does come back. He killed our sister. No matter what spin he puts on it or how you used to feel about him, he killed her.’

Charity peered up at the ruby-coloured gates guarding Dan and Lana North’s huge white mansion. This place had been a dilapidated mess when she was a kid, once owned by a duke and then left in a state of disrepair after a fire. Local kids would sneak in through the gates, smoking drugs and making out in the rooms. She’d even come here with Niall once but they preferred the comfort of the sea shore and caves near her house. It was quite something to see what the Norths had done to it since.

She paused at the marble steps leading up to the house, smoothing her hands down her cream trousers and adjusting the collar on her cerise blouse. She hadn’t been sure what to wear; these weren’t the kind of people she’d usually have dinner with. Back in London, all her friends and associates were other NHS counsellors. It was an unspoken rule that every dinner was a casual dinner, so Charity usually turned up in what she’d been wearing to work, jeans and a large bright shirt cinched at the waist with a belt.

She took a deep breath and walked up the stairs. Behind her, the sea rippled, the cliff the house was sitting on diving into the craggy rocks below. She put her hand out to lift the ornate gold knocker made from a lion’s mouth. But before she had the chance, the door was whipped open by Dan. He was wearing a casual white suit rolled up to the elbows, a pastel blue shirt beneath it, the shirt undone slightly to reveal the smooth tanned skin of his chest.

‘You came!’ he said. ‘I have to confess, I was worried you’d be a no-show.’

She had thought she would be a no-show too. But Dan had seemed so worried about Lana, and the vulnerable look in her eyes as she’d clutched at Charity’s hand after the accident ate away at her.

The truth was, Lana reminded her of Faith a little. Beautiful, vivacious, a slight hint of vulnerability. No one else noticed that about Faith apart from her sisters. All everyone saw was confident, clever, beautiful Faith. While she was all of those, she also had her insecurities. Charity recalled an Easter holiday when Faith returned from university and was blanked by a group of girls she used to go to school with while out shopping with Hope and Charity. She’d laughed it off at the time but later, Charity saw her crying in her room.

Charity stepped inside the mansion, taking in the huge hallway and marble floor draped with a black and gold rug. Ahead of her was a long stairway that swept up to a balconied landing, like a scene from Gone with the Wind. When Dan closed the door, she felt stifled. It was as though the heating had been on all day.

‘Your place is gorgeous,’ she said as he took her lime-coloured jacket. ‘I remember when it was a crumbling mess.’

‘So do I. It’s taken us two years to sort it out. Well, I say us. Lana’s done most of the work. She found the place too.’

‘I’m very impressed.’ Charity held out the bottle of Blue Nun. ‘Sorry, it was the only bottle of wine I could find at the local newsagent’s. My dad used to say it tastes like vinegar.’

Dan laughed. ‘I happen to like vinegar very much.’ He led her to a set of doors on their right, pushing them open to reveal a large room with a gilded table running down its centre. She realised with a shock that on the dark walls around it were murals of couples in various states of undress. Her eyes homed in on one particular image of an olive-skinned man kissing the neck of a voluptuous woman with blonde hair and porcelain skin.

‘Lana has a very vivid imagination,’ Dan said, following her gaze.

‘It must be interesting when the in-laws come for dinner,’ Charity joked.

‘Don’t worry, we use our other dining room for them,’ Dan replied.

‘You have two dining rooms?’