Page 101 of A Secret Escape

“Exactly.” Nanna Peg added sugar to her tea. “And you have a perfect rom-com right there.”

Milly rolled her eyes. “Your imagination is unbelievable. I’ll leave you to it while I go and hunt for the chocolate biscuits. Try not to move or injure yourselves while I’m gone.” But it was good to see the pair of them laughing and joking.

“I’ll help you with the shopping.” Zoe followed her to the car and Milly grabbed the last bag of groceries and rescued the packet of chocolate biscuits that had rolled under the car seat.

“Are you doing okay, Zoe? I’m sorry about last night.” It had been playing on her mind. “Dragging you out to stay here. And the whole conversation with Nicole.You shouldn’t have had to hear all that.”

“It’s fine. I’m an adult. Almost. You don’t have to hide things from me. I prefer it if you don’t.” Zoe’s cheeks were pink. “To be honest it gave me hope.”

“Hope?”

“Hearing you and Nicole fall out and then seeing you fix it again. I’ve always thought you two had, like, the perfect, most amazing friendship. I didn’t imagine that you ever exchanged an angry word. And then you did, but it was okay. And seeing that gave me courage to speak to Cally. I’m going to do that.”

“Good.” Milly leaned against the car door to close it, her arms full. She was relieved that Zoe didn’t seem scarred by witnessing a surfeit of maternal emotion. And who would have thought that her problems with Nicole would have turned into a teachable moment? Usually she tried to smooth or sanitize everything, but maybe she needed to be a little more open. After all, her job as a mother was to prepare Zoe for a real version of life, not a polished version. “I hope she’s receptive and that the conversation isn’t too stressful. If you want to talk through how to approach it, I’m here.” She took a step toward the house, but Zoe stopped her.

“Talking of not hiding things—”

“Mm?” Milly paused, her maternal radar on full alert.

“I kind of understood why it was hard for Nicole to tell you.

About Dad, I mean—” Zoe stumbled over the words “—because it’s not an easy thing, is it? Talking about something like that. When you overhear something you shouldn’t. It’s like holding something hot that is scalding you, and the last thing you want to do is hand it over and scald someone else.”

Milly stayed still, waiting.

This was how it was with teenagers, she was discovering. You could sit them down and encourage them to talk and they gave away frustratingly little, but then you were standing in the blazing sunshine clutching a bag of groceries with a packet of chocolate biscuits melting in your hand and suddenly you knew that this conversation about not much was about something very important.

“Have you been in that position,sweetheart?”

Zoe gave her a desperate look. “I overheard Dad talking.” The words fell out of her as if they’d been held inside for too long. “It was at home one night. When we were still in our old house. I came down for a glass of water. He didn’t know I was there.” She broke off. “I don’t even know if I should be telling you this.”

They were standing in full sunshine.

Milly was sweltering. Her clothes were sticking to her. The chocolate biscuits were turning liquid.

“You can tell me anything, honey. Anything at all.”

Zoe swallowed. “He was talking to someone on the phone. And the moment he saw me he turned like a weird puce color and ended the call, and he told me off for creeping up on him. But I honestly wasn’t. I just wanted a drink. And if he hadn’t acted all guilty I probably wouldn’t even have noticed.”

Milly’s mouth was dry. “When was this?”

“I don’t know. But before we went to LA to stay with Aunt Nicole. And then I saw him on the balcony arguing with Aunt Nicole, and I guessed what might be going on. But I didn’t know exactly. And I didn’t know what to do. Or say. And last night you were so mad at Nicole that she hadn’t told you—”

“Oh, sweetheart, no, that’s not true. It was more complicated than that. And I’m so, so sorry you were put in that position.” Milly put the biscuits in with the groceries and put the bag down on the ground. Then she held out her arms, and Zoe walked straight into them. “I wish you’d told me. Not for me, but for you.”

Zoe clung to her. “I didn’t want to hurt you. And I suppose a part of me hoped that if I ignored it, it might go away.”

Milly stroked Zoe’s hair. Her eyes were stinging. “That was a big thing to have to carry, and next time you’re worried about anything at all, you’re to tell me and we’ll share it. That’s what family does.” She held her daughter tightly, and then there was a hammering at the window. “That’s Nanna Peg.”

“She wants her chocolate biscuits.” Zoe gave a tearful laugh and pulled away. “You’re not mad at me?”

“I could never be mad at you. I’m sorry this has been so hard on you. I feel terrible about all of it. The divorce. Moving house . . .” She couldn’t believe they were having such an important conversation outdoors next to the car, clutching bags of shopping and risking sunstroke.

“Don’t feel bad. None of it is your fault. And I love the boathouse.” Zoe picked up the bag. “And Dad leaving was difficult, but I’m getting used to it. Avery has tried really hard to make me feel at home there, which can’t be easy because she doesn’t have kids or anything. She has started buying food she knows I like, even though she doesn’t eat it herself.” She said it tentatively, as if it was something she wasn’t sure her mother would want to know, and Milly realized how tough it must have felt for her.

“I’m glad you like her, I really am. It’s a relief to me.”

“Truly?”

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