Page 84 of A Secret Escape

“No!” Nicole shot out a hand and then withdrew it as quickly. “You shouldn’t have to leave your own house. If you want to be on your own, then I should be the one to go.”

“Go where?” Milly grabbed her bag and her jacket. She might be wounded, but she was still practical. “We both know you can’t leave this place.” Even now, after such a betrayal, she couldn’t put her friend in a position that would expose her.

Nicole looked anguished. “But—”

“I can’t talk about this now.” She knew that if she stayed, she’d start worrying about Nicole and Nicole’s feelings, and she needed to focus on herself. She needed to work out how she was going to deal with this. What she was going to do. What it all meant. “I’m going to get Zoe, and we’re leaving. Lock the door behind me.”

Chapter21Zoe

Zoe sat on the edge of her bed, listening to every word of the conversation going on in the room beneath her. It wasn’t as if she had a choice but to listen. The wood used in the construction of the boathouse ensured excellent acoustics. Sound traveled easily, and her mother and Nicole weren’t exactly using indoor voices.

She’d heard what her father had said (and it was a weird feeling suddenly discovering that your father could behave so badly: she’d preferred it when she thought he was a perfect human being, although admittedly she’d have to go back a few years for that), and she’d heard every word her mother had said.

She’d sympathized with Nicole because overhearing something like that was major and seriously heavy, and the fact that her mother was upset because Nicole hadn’t told her what she’d seen made Zoe’s skin prickle with guilt.

And it was no good telling herself that unlike Nicole she hadn’t actually overheard the conversation. Maybe she hadn’t known exactly what was going on,but she’d had a strong suspicion. Because she’d overheard a conversation between her father and Avery too. Weeks before they’d visited LA. Weeks before her father had walked out.

And she hadn’t told her mother either.

Chapter22Connie

I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness. Bringing me home. I’m not used to being a burden on anyone.” Connie poured wine into a glass and handed it to Brian. Her whole body ached. She felt like a walking bruise.

“You’re far from a burden. And I would rather have taken you straight to the hospital.” Brian took the glass from her and settled himself at the kitchen table. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind and take you to have a checkup? It would put my mind at rest.”

“Definitely not. I don’t want to waste precious hospital resources. It’s just a few scratches and a little bump on the head, that’s all. Fortunately I was wearing a helmet, so no real harm done.”

Brian gave her a long look. “It was a nasty fall, Connie. Helmet or not, you hit that rock with force.”

And didn’t she know it. Her head hitting that rock had sounded as bad as it had felt.

“The poor rock. Was it hurt? We should have checked.” Connie made a joke of it. “Not the horse’s fault. The dog ran out from the bracken and made me jump too. And I’m sure I’ll ache from head to toe tomorrow, but nothing that won’t mend by itself. If you can put up with looking at my bruised lip and my messy hair,then we’re fine.”

“You’re a stubborn woman, Connie.”

“I think you mean I’mindependent.” She wasn’t the sort who needed care and sympathy. She looked after herself, and she preferred it that way.

“Call it what you like, but everyone needs a little help now and then.” His gaze was fixed on her face, which she was sure looked as bad as it felt. “Can I at least persuade you to call your daughter?”

“Milly? Goodness no. I don’t want to bother her with this. But talking of daughters, tell me about Annie. Any news?” She poured herself a glass of ice water from the fridge. Her head was throbbing too badly to even think about wine. She felt a little sick, but presumably that was the shock of it all. “You must be so worried, you poor thing.”

“I spoke to her first thing this morning. She’s recovering from the surgery, and they’re saying that she should be discharged in the next couple of days.”

“That’s good.”

“I wish I wasn’t so far away, that’s all. I can’t exactly pop over to Australia. It’s not easy when your children decide to settle in faraway places.”

“Particularly when that child is your only one.” She felt relieved that Milly had never expressed any desire to live anywhere but the Lakes and that she’d been as enthusiastic to work in the family business as Connie had been to have her there. Not that she would have stood in her way if Milly had chosen to move somewhere distant. She believed strongly that people should live the life that felt right for them. “I admire you for being so encouraging and endlessly supportive of her, particularly when you were dealing with your own loss. You have great courage.”

“I’m not sure it’s courage. I wanted her to be happy, that’s all. Isn’t that what every parent wants for their child? Would part of me have liked her to stay here and move in next door? Yes. But that wasn’t how things worked out, and I learned to make the best of it.Sometimes that’s all you can do, isn’t it? You keep busy and build your own life.” He took a mouthful of wine and set the glass down. “But thank you for listening. You’ve been a good friend, Connie. I don’t know what I would have done without you over the past week. It makes me even more embarrassed to remember how rude I was the first time we met a few weeks ago.”

Her laugh turned into a gasp as pain jabbed her ribs. Wincing, she sat down opposite him. Who would have thought that falling off a horse could be so painful? “No need to be embarrassed. I understand. People in our position are always being encouraged to look for romance. I’m sure you’re quite the catch for a woman who is interested in catching someone. Fortunately for you, that’s not me.”

He toyed with his glass. “After Paula died, everyone kept saying to me, ‘You need to get back on the horse.’”

“We did get back on the horse,” Connie pointed out, “but we did it literally, rather than figuratively. And then fell off it, in my case.”

They’d been riding daily, and she couldn’t remember precisely when their polite greetings had turned to conversation. One day they’d exchanged a few words, and the next they’d gone for lunch in a pub garden. During their many conversations since then she’d discovered that he’d worked in construction for many years, been a widower for twelve years, that he had a thirty-year-old daughter in Australia (currently suffering from appendicitis) who was married with a five-year-old, and that he had no interest in finding anyone else.

---