The Secrets We Left Behind (16 page)

‘I think Hannah should know the truth, that’s all. And I want her to know about me.’ He bent forward to pick up the flask and stopped halfway, drawing in a breath. His face was
twisted in a grimace and I noticed that he was gritting his teeth and a film of sweat had appeared on his pale forehead. He let out a breath and his face relaxed again.

‘Look, Scott.’ I took the fat brown envelope out of my handbag and thrust it towards him. ‘There’s £4,000 here; I know it’s not much, but it would mean you
could afford some more help.’ I gestured vaguely towards next door. ‘Perhaps get someone professional in; a qualified carer.’ He was paying attention now, so I warmed to my theme.
‘I could even help you to find someone. It might make life a bit, I don’t know, more comfortable, I suppose.’ I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t, and then I
saw that he’d closed his eyes again.

I saw a flicker of movement in his jaw as he drew a deep breath, but he still didn’t speak.

‘So, what do you think, then?’

He shook his head slowly. ‘My God, you certainly have come up in the world, haven’t you?’

‘Sorry?’

‘If you think four grand is
not much.’

‘I meant in terms of—’

‘Hush money. You think money would make a difference?’ His voice was stronger now. ‘You think I give a
toss
about money now?’

‘Well, what
do
you want then?’ I leapt to my feet. ‘Drugs? Sex? Just tell me what I can do to—’

‘Stop, for fuck’s sake.’ He put his hand up, palm facing me. ‘And calm down.’

‘Calm down? How dare you tell me to calm down! Do you really not see the implications of what you’re asking?’

‘Of course I do. That’s why I haven’t gone to the police yet. I want you to tell her what happened; it would be better coming from you. And whatever you may think, my aim
isn’t to totally fuck up your life. I want her to know the truth, and I want to see her – I don’t want to interfere in your precious, comfortable life, I just want to meet my
daughter once, so she knows who I am.’ He looked down. ‘Or who I was.’

Hastings, 1976

Although she’d only been living with Scott and Eve for five weeks, it seemed longer. It felt like they’d all known each other for ages. She felt comfortable here,
and every now and then, she’d catch herself laughing, forgetting that her mum was dead, that she’d watched the coffin being lowered into the ground. And then she’d feel
ashamed.

Scott had been right; there was plenty of cash-in-hand work, and within a week, she’d managed to get regular shifts at a pub in the town centre. It wasn’t as nice as some of the
quaint little pubs in the Old Town but the money was okay and meals were thrown in so she was able to pay her way and have enough left over to buy a few bits for her room. Eve had dragged her along
to help at a jumble sale on Saturday because the helpers always got first pick. She’d bought a rocking chair for 50p and a red lava lamp for 20p; the stand was chipped but the lamp worked
perfectly and looked lovely in the corner of her room. Scott and Eve had been so kind, giving her things, listening while she talked endlessly about her mum, and on the few nights she wasn’t
working at the pub, even cooking her meals. Today, she was determined to do something for them. She hadn’t done that much cooking before, but she was good at making Granny Pawley’s
cheese hotpot. It was the first proper meal her mum had taught her to cook. It was Granny Pawley’s own recipe, made from layers of sliced potato, onion, tomato and grated cheese, and
sometimes topped with crispy bacon for a special treat. The trick was to slice the potatoes thinly so they cooked right through and to season every layer, then you had to cook it for a couple of
hours so that the potatoes and onions softened into the melted cheese. The salty, savoury tang of the cheese was perfectly off set by the sweetness of the tomatoes. The only trouble was, it was the
sort of meal that was really best eaten on chilly winter evenings, but today it was sunny and very warm, especially for the second week in May. Oh well, she didn’t suppose it mattered.

The hotpot was soon bubbling away in the Baby Belling and a rich, savoury aroma drifted through the house. After clearing the kitchen and setting the table, she went up to the thinking room to
read. She was about to check on the meal when she heard the door at the top of the basement stairs open and close. ‘Hello,’ Eve called up the stairs. ‘Anyone home?’

‘Yes,’ Jo called back. ‘Coming.’ She was smiling as she went down into the kitchen, expecting Eve to comment on the wonderful smell that was wafting through the house.
But Eve was standing in the middle of the room with a frown creasing her forehead. She wrinkled her nose. ‘Is that . . .’ She paused, took another sniff . ‘Is that
bacon?’

Jo stopped, realisation dawning fast and hard. They were vegetarian! Of course they were. All at once, it was as though she could see every meal they’d eaten together floating before her
eyes; hear every conversation they’d had about food whispered into her ear. There was never any meat, never any mention of meat. It was so obvious, now she thought about it. It took her a
moment to find her voice. ‘I wanted to make you a special dinner, to say thank you. But. . . but I forgot . . . I didn’t think . . .’

Scott appeared in the doorway. ‘Something smells good,’ he said.

Jo felt her bottom lip tremble, so she bit it. ‘You’re vegetarian, aren’t you? I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot. You don’t even need to make it with bacon,
it’s just that’s what my granny used to do for a special treat.’

Eve’s face relaxed into a smile. ‘It was very sweet of you.’

Jo looked up hopefully. ‘The bacon’s only on the top; you could take it—’

But Eve shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Jo. I’d be able to taste the flesh lingering on the vegetables. Thank you for the thought, though. And don’t worry about us;
we’ll get ourselves an omelette or something.’ She went over to the sink and tipped out a carrier bag full of leaves. ‘And look what I picked – nettles and wild garlic. We can have
a lovely salad with it. She turned the tap on to wash the leaves, then began opening cupboards to look for something to eat. ‘What do you fancy, Scott?’

Scott smiled sadly at Jo as he walked across the kitchen to look in the cupboards. As he passed behind her, he whispered so closely in her ear that she could feel his breath, ‘Shame,
because it smells delicious.’ She turned to look at him, but he was already talking to Eve.

*

By the end of May, the temperature had hit the eighties, and by the start of June it was too hot to wear anything in bed. Last night had been so uncomfortable that she’d
thrown the covers off, but it was still too hot and sticky to sleep. She dragged herself reluctantly out of bed and pulled on the white peasant blouse and the orange gypsy skirt Eve had given her.
What on earth would she have done for clothes if Eve hadn’t put on weight? All she’d brought with her was winter stuff . She moved aside the red fabric she was still using as a curtain.
The window was shut – no wonder it was like an oven in here. She could feel the heat searing through the glass onto her bare arms and warming the floorboards so that they gave off a rich,
biscuity smell. She pulled the sash window up as far as it would go and leaned out. The garden below looked battered by the heat; everything that grew there appeared dull and limp, yet the park on
the other side of the wall was lush and vibrant thanks to the sprinklers that had been set up last week. If you turned to the right, you could see the whole of the park with its sweep of emerald
grass punctuated by regimented flower beds; if you looked to the left, beyond the park and over the rooftops, you could see the sea, the blazing sun reflected in the water. The punishing heat
burned the top of her head and there wasn’t a breath of air. Above her, the dream-catcher Eve had made for her hung perfectly still in front of the window; even the feathers didn’t
move. She stood back to admire the way the silver beads sparkled as the sunlight bounced off them. She’d had a go at making one herself, but it hadn’t turned out very well.

‘Jo!’ Eve’s voice called from downstairs. ‘Jo, are you up? It’s gorgeous outside. Let’s go for a swim.’

‘I . . . I don’t have a costume.’

‘That’s all right.’ Eve was coming up the stairs. ‘You can have my old one – it’s too small for me now, anyway.’

‘Oh, okay,’ Jo said slowly. ‘Thanks.’ Usually, when people said they wanted to go for a swim, they meant they wanted to paddle or play about in the water for a bit, so
she probably didn’t need to say anything.

Eve’s old costume was made out of a slightly shiny, sea-green material and it had five metal rings going up each side so it looked like it was only held together by chains. It was a bit
big on the bust, but she didn’t look too bad. Not as good as Eve, though. Eve had a bit of a tummy but she was so curvy anyway that it suited her. They’d just stretched their towels out
on the pebbles when Scott came crunching down the beach towards them in cut-off jeans and with a towel rolled up under his arm. ‘I didn’t know Scott was coming,’ Jo began, but Eve
was already bounding down to the water.

Scott spread his own towel alongside theirs, reached down behind his neck and pulled his T-shirt off over his head, then stretched out on his towel. Feeling suddenly self-conscious standing
there in Eve’s swimming costume, Jo sat down next to him, drew her knees up and held them to her chest as she watched Eve wade into the sea.

Scott turned on his side to face her. As he moved, she caught a faint trace of his hot, male smell. He was so close that she could feel the heat coming off his skin.

‘You going for a swim, then?’

She shrugged. ‘I might, in a minute.’

‘I think you should, you know,’ he said. ‘Because if you sit here much longer in that swimming costume’ – he fixed her with his eyes as he put his finger through
one of the metal rings – ‘you’re going to end up with five ring-shaped burns on each side.’

She could feel herself going red. His finger was still touching her skin, and now she could feel the metal rings, which were indeed getting hot.

‘Come on, Jo!’ Eve shouted from the sea. She was already in up to her thighs, jumping up and down and squealing with the cold.

‘Go on,’ Scott said, moving away from her and lying on his back. ‘I’ll watch your stuff .’

As she hobbled down the shingle, she could feel the hot stones burning the soles of her feet and the midday sun cooking her skin, which was already sore from spending too long in the garden. She
went in gingerly as far as her ankles and at first it felt quite warm, but then a step further and she shivered as the chill nipped her calves. When the water reached mid-thigh, she stood up on
tiptoe so the lapping waves didn’t get any higher. It was a weird sensation; her legs were turning red with the cold, while the drops of water that splashed on her shoulders sizzled as the
sun bore down onto her skin.

‘Come on, Jo. Straight in up to the waist! You’ve got to get your aunt Minnie wet quickly or you’ll never do it.’ Eve was grinning as she splashed Jo with the flat of her
hands.

‘Pack it in,’ Jo yelled, but she was laughing too as Eve continued to whoop and shriek as she went further and further in.

‘Look – this is what you do.’ Eve leapt up, holding her nose, and plunged her shoulders and head right down under the water, springing up again, wide-eyed and gasping as she
shook the silver droplets from her flattened hair. ‘Ooh, shit and sugar! It’s bloody freezing.’ But then she dived down like a mermaid and disappeared, bobbing up again about six
feet away. ‘You, Joanna Casey’ – she grinned, putting her icy wet hands on Jo’s burning shoulders – ‘are going to get your hair wet.’ And she started to
push Jo’s shoulders under the water. The weight of Eve’s hands knocked her off balance, and the moment she felt that her feet weren’t connected with the ground, that she
wasn’t firmly rooted, the panic began to rise up through her stomach and into her chest. Her arms shot out in front of her but there was nothing solid to hold on to, and she could feel
herself going under. The shouts and shrieks of the other people on the beach became distant and echoey as the icy water closed over her head. She scrabbled frantically with her feet, trying to find
the sharp pebbles she knew were there, but her panicked kicking had thrown her into a chaotic backwards somersault. She felt a burning sensation as the water went up her nose, then her shoulder
bumped against the sea bed and she clutched at the shingle with her fingers. At that moment, she felt hands go under her arms and she was being pulled upwards.

‘It’s okay,’ Eve was saying. ‘Jo! It’s okay. You’re all right.’ Eve had her arms around her but she was still kicking, imagining that Eve was doing a
life-saving technique, then she realised that Eve was standing and the water was only just higher than her waist.

At last her feet touched the ground and she regained her balance. She was gasping, her heart was thumping and her nose and throat stung with salt water.

‘I’m sorry, Jo,’ Eve said. ‘I didn’t mean to knock you over.’ She still held on to Jo’s arm, and was looking at her with a mixture of alarm and
curiosity.

‘I should have told you,’ Jo said, still panting. ‘Can’t swim.’

‘You can’t swim? Oh Jo, why ever didn’t you say?’

Jo coughed, wincing at the pain. ‘Can we get out?’ Eve held her hand as they waded through the water back to the shore.

Scott was sitting up now, watching them, his arms draped loosely over his bent knees. She avoided his eyes as they walked up the beach, the tips of her fingers tingling with embarrassment; he
must have seen the whole thing. But all he said as they drew near was, ‘Is everything cool?’ And when Eve assured him it was, he lay back down and closed his eyes.

‘So how come you can’t swim?’ Eve said as they dried themselves. ‘I thought you grew up a stone’s throw from the sea?’

‘I did. I just never learned. My mum couldn’t swim, either. My dad always said he was going to teach us but, well, he never got round to it.’

Eve spread her towel out on the shingle then lay down so the sun could finish drying her off . ‘But what about school? That’s where I learned – I was in the school
team.’