One Secret Summer (46 page)

He couldn’t remember how long he stayed there, or how it ended. He remembered getting up and tiptoeing out of the attic, not
wanting to be seen or heard. He went first to his own room, unaware that his hands were still pressed against his ears. He
caught sight of himself in the mirror that hung on the wall of the landing. He sat on the edge of the bed for what seemed
like a very long time. Then he got up and did the only thing he could think of to do … he went downstairs to tell his brothers.
He wanted Rafe to make Uncle Rufus leave. He was the oldest; he could do it. They’d given up playing hide and seek and were
lying in front of the empty fireplace, playing some silly card game that they wouldn’t teach him. ‘Rafe,’ he said, and he
realised as soon as he spoke that he was crying. He could feel his lip quivering though he desperately wished it would stop.

Rafe and Aaron looked up. It was Aaron who began laughing first. ‘Cry-baby … did you get scared? Were you all alone? In the
dark. Look at him! God, you’re such a baby …’

He blurted it out. Everything. He couldn’t hold it back.
Make him stop
, he remembered begging Rafe.
He’s hurting her. Make him leave
. He didn’t know who hit him first. What he did remember was the taste of blood in his mouth and the thundering in his ears
that was the sound of his own heart. They took it in turns to push and shove and slap him. He was a liar. A sneaky, dirty
little liar. And a cry-baby. You couldn’t get much worse than that. If he didn’t shut up and take it all back – those nasty,
filthy, ugly lies – they would jolly well see to it that his life from then on was hell. He didn’t. They did. And that was
the beginning of the animosity between them that had lasted for almost twenty years. It wasn’t the end, though. He’d got his
own back.

‘How?’ Niela whispered, though the answer was already there between them.

He shrugged, unable to meet her eyes. He was the difficult one; the wild charmer, the one no one could tame. It had its …
attractions. He recognised it, early on. He’d taken away everything he could from them, whenever he could. Especially girls.
Women. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d seduced one or other of their girlfriends and then chucked them immediately
aside. It had started out almost as a game – just to see if he could, that was all. Meaningless, quick revenge. And then he
found he couldn’t stop. The more they pushed him away, the more he pursued what they loved. The last had been Rafe’s fiancée,
a silly, simpering girl called Amy. The night they announced their engagement, he’d kissed her in the upstairs bathroom; a
couple of days later he took her to his bed. She told Rafe; a few days later the engagement was off and Josh left for Burma.
That was the last time. There was no pleasure in it; he wasn’t sure there ever had been. And now he didn’t know how to make
amends.

There was absolute silence in the room when he finished speaking. He sat very still. She had seen something in him that he’d
never shown anyone, not even Rania. No one had ever seen
him like that, open and completely exposed. It put you at risk, he thought to himself, but with Niela it was different. She
would not let him down. He reached across and took her hand, very gently at first, then he tightened his grip. She responded
with a gesture that had become familiar to him, though he’d never really thought about it. She reached up with her free hand
and lightly brushed the top of his head, her fingers barely touching his hair. She had to look up at him to do it and her
lovely long throat was bared, turned towards him, giving away so much of herself to anyone who’d care to look. He found himself
inexplicably choked. All the anger and hot, uncomfortable pain he’d felt in the retelling of the story suddenly went right
out of him. An ordinary little gesture, of the sort that could – and probably did – mean nothing. She looked at him in that
clear, candid way of hers that tried to see what there was behind his aloofness; something she’d glimpsed, long ago, and had
been looking for ever since. He took in the smooth dark skin of her face, the neat, beautifully drawn eyebrows and the dark
eyes, and understood that what mattered to her the most was also hidden in her, and that if he intended to find it, he would
have to do as she had done with him, discovering it slowly, bit by shy, hesitant bit.

MADDY

London, April 2000

‘Do we
have
to go?’ Maddy turned round to look at her backside in the mirror. ‘Does this look all right?’ she asked anxiously.

Rafe looked as though he wasn’t sure which question to answer first. ‘Yes. To both,’ he said, adjusting the ribbon in Darcy’s
hair. ‘There. All done, darling.’

‘Why don’t you and Darcy just go instead?’ Maddy murmured. ‘I’m sure Diana won’t mind if I don’t come.’

‘Maddy, stop being difficult. Come on, we haven’t been out in ages.’

It was on the tip of Maddy’s tongue to say that going round to Diana’s for lunch was hardly going out, but she managed – not
without effort – to hold herself back. ‘All right, all right. Are you sure this looks OK? It’s kinda tight.’

‘It’s fine, darling,’ Rafe said, without looking up. Darcy had pulled the ribbon out of her hair for the fifth or sixth time
and was now demanding that he put it back.

‘Darcy, will you
stop
it?’ Maddy couldn’t help herself. ‘Either leave the damned thing in or take it out. Your choice.’

Darcy looked at her mutinously. They stared at each other for a second, a battle of wills. Ridiculous, Maddy thought to herself.
Darcy was three. How could you battle with a three-year-old? How? Darcy’s lower lip began to tremble. Maddy rolled her eyes
and turned away. She couldn’t bear to watch what would surely follow. Tears. Naughty Mummy. Poor Darcy. She could almost hear
Rafe’s thoughts. She was being silly. She knew exactly where Darcy’s appetite for performance came from. Bang on cue, Darcy
began to cry. Rafe shook his
head in exasperation and bent down to console her. Maddy walked out of the room.

She sat down on the edge of the bed. Her hands were trembling. Why did it always wind up that way? Where had she gone wrong
with Darcy? She could hear Rafe’s soothing voice through the door – within seconds, Darcy had stopped wailing. With her, it
was a different story. From the moment Darcy opened her eyes every morning to the realisation that Daddy wasn’t there, it
was downhill all the way. Tears, tantrums, screams, shouts … those twelve long hours each day between Rafe’s departure and
return home were nothing short of torture. For both of them. The minute Darcy was born, Maddy knew something was wrong. In
her more despairing moments, she wondered if it had anything to do with the fuss she’d kicked up over her name. Diana had
wanted to call her Elizabeth. Maddy had looked at him from the protection of her hospital bed.

‘You’re joking, right?’ she’d said, holding her baby tightly to her.

‘No. It’s my grandmother’s name. It’s a nice name.’ Rafe ran a hand through his hair. She recognised it as a gesture he made
when agitated. A tremor of fear ran through her. ‘We could shorten it to Liz,’ he suggested hopefully.

‘No fucking way.’

‘Maddy!’ Rafe stared at her. ‘It’s my grandmother’s name.’

‘And she’s
my
daughter.’

They’d stared at each other, both taken aback by the sudden and hostile turn in the conversation. And at that moment, the
baby had begun to scream. She hadn’t stopped since.

‘Maddy?’ Rafe tapped on the door. ‘Ready?’

‘Coming,’ she said, quickly averting her head. She didn’t want him to see her reddened eyes and nose. ‘Just going to the bathroom.
I’ll be out in a second.’

She stared at her face in the mirror. She looked all right. Her eyes were wide and bright but she’d managed to avoid smudging
her mascara. She turned her head sideways, considered her
profile and quickly pinned up her hair. A last squirt of perfume, a dash of lipstick and she was ready. She squared her shoulders.
Darcy would have her three favourite people in the world all doting on her today. With any luck she’d fall asleep soon after
her early lunch and Maddy would be free to enjoy the conversation at lunch – or not.

‘It’s just us today, isn’t it?’ Maddy asked Rafe as they pulled away from the kerb. She wasn’t sure she could stand the thought
of a large Keeler gathering.

‘I think so. Aaron and Julia are away.’

Maddy was silent. It had been three years since she and Julia had been thrown together by the accident of marriage. It seemed
like a lifetime and yet she still hadn’t warmed to her. She’d
wanted
to like her, but there seemed to be no such desire on Julia’s part. She was always so terrifyingly
busy
. It unnerved Maddy. They met at Diana’s on Sundays; they met in Mougins – they were perfectly polite to one another, but
it was clear that Julia thought Maddy a complete dolt, and Maddy … well, secretly she was terrified of Julia. At the last
lunch they’d all had a little too much to drink – you had to, there was no other way of getting through the afternoon – and
she’d made some comment about being bored in London … she wasn’t moaning or complaining – just stating a fact. Julia had suddenly
opened her mouth and attacked her.

‘Why don’t you just get a job?’ she’d asked.

‘A job?’ Maddy could feel her face turning red. She saw Rafe looking at her strangely.

‘Yes, a job. Work. Like the rest of us.’

‘I’m an actress,’ Maddy said haltingly. ‘It’s really difficult. There aren’t many parts out there.’

‘Well, do something else. Volunteer. Whatever.’ Her cool grey-blue eyes flickered over Maddy; there was no mistaking the contempt
she felt. Maddy wished desperately she’d never brought the subject up.

‘Dessert, anyone? More wine?’ Diana’s smooth voice quickly
closed the matter. Maddy excused herself from the table and went into the bathroom to throw up. Another successful lunch
chez
Diana.

Oh well … win some, lose some. People always accused Americans of being overfriendly, too eager. What was wrong with being
friendly? Maddy always thought. What was the harm in spreading a little charm?

She turned her head to look at Darcy, who, as soon as she’d been strapped in, had fallen asleep. Her heart suddenly and unexpectedly
turned over. She looked positively angelic. She took after Rafe, that much was obvious, but there was a reddish tint to her
strawberry blonde hair that was very much Maddy. Her temper was Maddy’s too, though few would suspect it. After her father
disappeared, there just didn’t seem to be any point in getting angry or throwing the sort of tantrums she once had. The stunned
look of loss on her mother’s face was enough to squash even the smallest hints of rage. She’d learned to keep her emotions
well in check – it was only in acting, and in that other thing that she did from time to time, that they spilled out. Thinking
about that ‘other thing’, she felt herself blush in the darkened interior of the car. She’d started again. Not every day,
of course, but at least once a week. It was being alone with Darcy all day that did it. And then there was the time Darcy
had wandered into the bathroom and caught her in the act. That was exactly what it felt like – she’d been caught out. Ridiculous.
How could a child who wasn’t quite three catch her out? She’d stood there in the doorway for a few minutes, as quiet as a
mouse. Maddy hadn’t noticed her. She’d lifted her head, her eyes streaming and her stomach still heaving, and turned to get
a tissue – and then she’d seen her. Darcy had her thumb in her mouth, but her huge blue-green eyes were fixed accusingly on
Maddy. ‘Mom’s not very well,’ she’d gasped, embarrassment flooding through her veins. ‘Go on up to your room, honey. I’ll
come by in a minute. I’ll read you a story, would you like that?’ Darcy said nothing. Just turned and trotted off. Maddy was
left
with the sour taste of vomit in her mouth, only now it was mixed with guilt.

Fortunately, lunch looked as though it would be a quiet affair. Aaron and Julia had gone on holiday somewhere to celebrate
the fact that she’d been offered a junior partnership in the law firm where she worked. From Diana’s guarded, barbed comments,
Maddy was led to understand that Julia’s career was beginning to take off – and Aaron’s wasn’t. He was older than Julia, and
more experienced. He’d worked as a solicitor before becoming a barrister, so he ought to have been much further along in his
career. He wasn’t and it was clearly one thing Diana couldn’t solve for him. It puzzled Maddy; she was forever hearing about
how brilliant Diana’s boys were – clearly, things weren’t going according to Diana’s plan. She could see how much it annoyed
Diana to have to talk about Julia, not Aaron. As for her other sister-in-law … it had been over a year since she’d seen Josh
or Niela. They were both on assignment – Josh somewhere in the Far East and Niela a little closer to home, Jordan or Syria
… somewhere remote and unimaginable like that. She couldn’t imagine their lives. Niela was now a full-time interpreter, travelling
all over the place. Maddy liked Niela, insofar as you could like someone you’d only met twice.

The wines were excellent, as usual. Maddy nursed a large glass of white and watched Diana fuss over Darcy as she gave her
an early lunch. Harvey kept her brilliantly amused with anecdotes about his day. Maddy tried to attune her performance to
suit the occasion – not too loud, not too funny, not too brash. It was the only chance she got these days to act. Darcy was
the centre of attention for thirty minutes and then, holding tightly on to Rafe on one side and Diana on the other, she was
led upstairs to the room that Diana had redecorated
just for her
. Maddy hated it – pastel-coloured walls covered in stencils from children’s books she’d never heard of and windows swathed
in yards of pink silk. Pink
silk
? For a three-year-old? Darcy loved it, of course.
My fairy-tale room
. Or some such.

‘So what have you been up to lately?’ Harvey asked, removing a large casserole pot from the oven. He placed it carefully on
one side and lifted the lid. A wonderful, rich aroma of fish and herbs immediately filled the room. ‘Smells good, doesn’t
it?’ he asked conversationally, replacing the lid.