The Secretary's Secret (14 page)

The rest of the childish patter was lost to him.

The day darkened. He clenched his fingers into the soil of the garden, held on tight with both hands as the earth turned all the way over. He dragged in a breath and fought to remain upright. He would not be sick!

It came to him then, the answers to the questions he’d so desperately put off answering.

He couldn’t do this.

He wanted to get up and run. Who was he trying to kid? He couldn’t do any of this. He could not be the father Kit so desperately wanted for her child.

Any child, every child, reminded him of Chad, had memories threatening to burst forth—memories and pain. Davey, here, and…and Kit’s baby, would act as constant reminders of his loss, would have panic rising through him…and grief.

Not to mention anger. How could he be a proper father to Kit’s child when he couldn’t see past Chad?

Ice trickled across his scalp and down his spine. He couldn’t. The bottom line was that he couldn’t.

Was this how his grandfather had felt when Alex’s mother had left? Was that why he hadn’t been able to show softness and love to his grandson? The way Alex now knew he couldn’t show softness and love to his own child?

It would’ve been better for all of them—but especially for Kit—if he’d left that first day when she’d told him to. It would’ve been better for her if she’d never clapped eyes on him.

‘…anyway, I think it’s a dumb name, don’t you?’

Eyes the same colour as Chad’s lifted to his. It didn’t make any difference telling himself that ninety per cent of the population had brown eyes. At this moment in time they were the spitting image of the child’s he’d loved and lost.

‘What would you call a baby boy?’

Chad. He’d chosen Chad.

Davey frowned. ‘Are you feeling sick again?’

Alex latched onto the excuse. He didn’t know what the
again
was about, but… ‘Uh-huh.’ He glanced down at the child in his lap, blinked to clear his vision. ‘Do you think your mum would give Auntie Kit a lift home?’

Davey nodded.

‘Can you tell them that I went home because I was feeling sick?’

Davey nodded and jumped up. He raced off.

With a heart that grew colder with every step, Alex made his way back to the car.

Kit found Alex sitting at the dining table when she let herself into the house. Her heart slowed and relief flooded her. Alex did not look as if he were on his deathbed yet. Davey had exaggerated.

So…something had spooked him? Again? Davey?

She fought the exhaustion that threatened to settle over her. She recalled their kiss at the breakwater. She wasn’t ready to give up on Alex yet. He’d make it. He just needed…

More time?

She swallowed. How much longer did she mean to keep making excuses for him?

He’s worth fighting for,
the voice of her secret self whispered.

He was. Her every instinct told her so. He worked hard, he tried to do what was right, and when he kissed her she grew wings.

The expression that stretched through his eyes when he lifted his head to meet her gaze had a lump welling in her throat. She couldn’t keep this up, not for much longer. At her last doctor’s visit, her obstetrician had warned her that her blood pressure was creeping up.

Kit knew why. Alex. Her constant worry whether he would accept their baby into his life. Her constant worry whether he could overcome his demons. It was starting to take its toll. He was worth fighting for, but not at the expense of their baby’s health.

Just give him one more week.

For a moment tears made his face blur. She swallowed and blinked hard. She couldn’t find a smile and she didn’t try. ‘I see you’ve made a miraculous recovery.’

He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Kit, I can’t do this. I can’t be what you want me to be. I cannot be a father to your baby.’

Her hands clenched, her stomach tightened. ‘You don’t need to make a decision about that right now. We can talk about it and—’

‘No!’

The word snarled out of him. All the hairs on her arms lifted. The skin at her nape and her temples chilled.

‘Every child reminds me of Chad. Every child is a source of pain. Remembering Chad every single day, remembering what it was like to lose him, it will drive me insane, Kit.’

His eyes dropped to her stomach and all she could do was stare at the white lines that slashed deep on either side of his mouth. Lines that spoke of grief and pain beyond her understanding.

‘That’s why I can’t be a father to your child.’

For a moment, everything stilled, hung suspended—him, her, those words with their awful meaning. Then her stomach fell and fell and kept falling. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.

He’d warned her, he’d tried to tell her, he hadn’t made her any promises. For the moment, though, it was his pain that touched her and not her own. She forced herself forward, sat in the chair opposite. ‘Tell me about Chad,’ she pleaded.

The darkness in his eyes didn’t abate. He shook his head. ‘There’s no point.’

She reached out to touch the back of one of his clenched fists. ‘There is a point, Alex, it’s—’

‘I can’t!’ he burst out, pulling his hand away.

She didn’t know how one moved on after they lost a child, where one found the strength to pick up the pieces. Already she’d do anything to protect her baby and it wasn’t even born yet. Chad might not be dead, but he’d been removed from Alex’s world as surely as if he were.

She swallowed. She might not know what Alex was going through, but she did know that bottling it up would only hurt him more.

‘You don’t understand, Kit. This life of yours—the same life my parents led—it can never be my life. I don’t have the openness of heart for it. I don’t have any confidence in its permanence. If I stayed here with you and the baby I would ruin it all. I’m like my grandfather.’

‘No, you’re not!’

How could he believe that? She searched her mind for something that would prove him wrong. ‘Look at how you were with Davey that day you were painting. He brought back memories of Chad, but you weren’t unkind to him. What would your grandfather have done—yelled at him and frightened him, that’s what.’

Alex shook his head. ‘That doesn’t change the fact that to survive living in my grandfather’s house I had to kill off something in my nature that makes it impossible for me to…to do all this.’ He waved a hand to indicate the interior of her house.

‘You did it with Jacqueline.’

‘If I’d done it successfully, she would never have left!’

For a moment Kit couldn’t catch her breath.

Alex slumped. His eyes turned black. ‘I will finish the work on your house, Kit. After that, I’ll return to Sydney. My solicitors will arrange child support payments.’

Panic launched through her in a series of half-formed phrases and pulsing nausea. She surged to her feet. ‘You can’t leave just like that, Alex! I’m sorry, more sorry than I can say about Chad, but…’ She gripped the air, searching for the words that would make him see sense. Words that would make him stay. ‘Don’t you see? Our baby deserves a father too.’

Alex rose. He stood wooden and stiff in front of her. He looked like a man who’d been dealt a body blow. ‘I’m sorry, Kit.’

She reeled away from him as comprehension cleared the fog and confusion from her mind. Fear settled in its place. She swung back. ‘You’re doing with Chad what you did with your parents—blocking out every memory, good and bad, in an attempt to block out the pain. You think by avoiding those memories you’re protecting yourself, but you’re wrong. The same goes for love and family and commitment. Doing your best to avoid those things just means you’re going to keep losing and losing.’ Couldn’t he understand that? Her heart ached and ached for him, and it ached for their unborn child.

She lifted her chin. ‘I know you care about me.’

Please,
please
, don’t let her be wrong about that.

Colour stained his cheekbones a dark, deep red. Hope washed through her. ‘Walking away from all of this…’ she lifted her arms out in an attempt to encompass the house, the life they could have here ‘…can you honestly tell me that’s going to be easy?’

‘It won’t be easy.’ His voice was pitched low but she caught every word. ‘It won’t be gut-wrenchingly impossible either. It won’t be tear-your-heart-right-out-of-your-chest bad.’

She understood then the pain he’d suffered in missing his son.

‘It will be for me,’ she whispered.

Alex nearly caved in then. Kit’s admission was a knife to his heart.

He’d never meant to hurt her. He’d do anything to take away her pain, but staying…that was out of the question. It was better to hurt her now than hurt her more later.

He should never have married Jacqueline. He knew that now. He’d worked long hours, driven to provide Jacqui with all the nice things she’d wanted—the big house, the antique furniture. She’d grown bored and restless, though, in all those long hours he’d spent away from her. She’d become lonely.

She hadn’t been a bad person. She’d lied to him, and it had been a terrible lie, but she’d been too afraid to tell him the truth. If he’d put as much effort and time into his marriage as he had into making a name for himself in the business world…

But he hadn’t. The harsh bitterness he’d suffered at his grandfather’s hands had leached into his own soul. He couldn’t do family. He didn’t know how.

Unbidden, that image of his father waltzing his mother around their back garden rose in his mind.

With a swift shake of his head, he banished it. That was a lost dream. He wouldn’t hurt Kit by making the same mistake twice.

Kit gulped. He wanted to pull her into his arms and let her sob the worst of her pain into his shoulder. He hardened his heart. She had her family and her friends. She didn’t need him. She would be better off without him.

‘You really aren’t going to change your mind, are you?’ Her voice wobbled but she held his gaze.

He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Kit, for everything, but I’m not going to change my mind.’

‘Then I was wrong,’ she said slowly. ‘You didn’t love me after all. You don’t really care about me or the baby. All this—’ she gestured to the house ‘—has simply been a salve for your conscience.’

Her eyes suddenly spat fire. ‘Get out, Alex! Just pack your things and get out. It’s not our job to make you feel better for leaving.’

She was right. He should never have stayed here. ‘I’ll book into a hotel. I’ll be back in the morning to keep working on the house.’ It should only take a couple of days to finish the painting and another week tops to do the bathroom.

‘No.’

She didn’t yell, but the word echoed in his ears as if she had.

‘If you don’t mean to hang around for ever then you needn’t think you can hang around for another week or two.’

But there was still so much to do! He couldn’t leave her house in this state.

‘In fact I never want to see you again. End of story,’ she added when he opened his mouth.

‘But—’

‘Do you mean to stay for ever?’

He couldn’t!

Kit gathered up her handbag. ‘I’m going out. You have two hours. I want you gone by the time I get back.’

‘Kit!’ He surged forward as she made for the door. ‘Will you let me know if you need anything or—?’

‘No.’ Her face had shuttered closed, all her golden goodness shut off from him. ‘If you want to make things as easy as you can for me, you will go and not come back.’ She paused at the door. ‘Go home, Alex.’ And then she walked through it.

His world split apart then and there. He turned and stumbled for the hallway and the spare bedroom.

‘Alex?’

He turned to find her framed in the doorway again.

‘Knowing all that you know now, would you give up those two years with Chad?’

He stared at her and didn’t know how to answer.

‘Understand that when you walk away from me and our child, that your answer is yes.’

With that she closed the door. And it was as if the sunshine had been bled out of his life.

W
HEN
Kit let herself into her house three hours later, she found that Alex hadn’t left behind a single item, not one sign that he’d ever stayed here, ever been here.

She’d given him an extra hour to pack up, just in case.

She’d given herself an extra hour, just because.

Sitting on her rock for two hours, she’d stared out at the sea and had tried to make her mind blank. The cries of the seagulls, the shushing of the waves and the sight of the dolphins frolicking in the channel, none of it had been able to make her smile or had succeeded in unhitching the knot that tangled in her chest.

She dropped her handbag to the floor, lowered herself to the nearer of the two sofas, rested her head on its arm. When her watch had told her it was time to go home, she’d found she couldn’t. She’d gone to a coffee shop and had sat over a pot of ginger and lemongrass tea. But the smell of coffee and cake and the chattering of the clientele, none of that had lifted her spirits or helped her feel connected again.

And now, back home and in the absence of the banging of hammers and the whirring and buzzing of power tools, the enormity of what she’d done sank in.
She’d sent Alex away.
And although none of his things remained in her house, although his absence was evident in the very stillness of the air, his presence was alive in every corner. His handiwork, evident in the freshly plastered and primed walls, mocked her.

And the deep malt scent of the man… She’d take that to her grave.

With a growl, she flew up and flung open every door and window. She seized a cushion and a throw rug and stormed out into the back garden to huddle down in one of the Cape Cod chairs—that Alex had sanded and painted. The day was warm but she was chilled to the bone. She wrapped the blanket about her and tried to stop her teeth from chattering.

A gulf opened up inside her, too big even for tears. Alex didn’t want their baby. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, rubbing one hand back and forth over her tummy. ‘I’m so sorry.’

She closed her eyes and rested her head against the wooden slats behind. The sun still shone but it felt as if night had descended around her. Alex didn’t want her. She’d always known that his rejection would hurt. She hadn’t known it would devastate her.

She wrapped the blanket about her more tightly, knotted her hands in it as if it were the only thing anchoring her to this world.

Alex didn’t leave town, he didn’t return to Sydney like Kit had ordered him to. He’d meant to, because he hadn’t known what else to do.
Go home, Alex.
Funny, but somewhere in the last few weeks Tuncurry had come to represent home in a way his apartment in Sydney never had.

When he’d reached the sign that said, ‘Thank you for visiting our tidy town’, he’d slammed on the brakes and pulled over to the verge, rhythmically pounding the palm of his left hand against the steering wheel.

There was still the matter of the shower unit. It still hadn’t arrived. How on earth would Kit be able to pay for it?

He’d turned the car around and had driven back into town, booked into a hotel. Not one of the gorgeous plush ones with glorious ocean or lake views. He didn’t deserve one of those. His hotel was spare and spartan. His room was spare and spartan. His view… Who cared? He didn’t bother looking out of the window.

Without kicking off even his shoes, he’d fallen back onto the bed to stare up at the ceiling.

Would you give up those two years with Chad?

He fisted his hands in the quilt in an attempt to combat the hollowness, the emptiness…and to give himself something to hold onto.

Alex was waiting for Frank at the Rock Pool before lunch the following Monday.

Frank didn’t hesitate when he saw Alex; he trotted right on over and settled himself in the sand beside him. ‘Saw your car was gone Saturday afternoon. Noticed it didn’t come back Saturday night. Or yesterday. Or this morning.’

Alex was suddenly fiercely glad that Kit had a neighbour who took notice of such things, one who cared for her. It shamed him to think he’d written Frank off as a silly old duffer.

‘Kit wanted me to leave. She ordered me to go back to Sydney.’

Shrewd eyes surveyed him. ‘You haven’t, though.’

‘No.’

‘You’re going to stay and fight for her?’

Alex knew if he lied and said yes that he’d instantly win the older man’s support, but he was through with those kinds of lies and half-truths and vain reaching for dreams that could never be. He stared out at the water. ‘There isn’t any hope for me and Kit, Frank.’ The words tasted dry and vile in his mouth.

‘Then what are you still doing here?’

‘I can’t leave her house in that mess. Not when she has a baby on the way.’

‘Your baby.’

‘Yes.’ His baby. The baby he couldn’t face. He pushed the thought away. This wasn’t what he’d come here to discuss. ‘Look, Frank, the short story is that Kit doesn’t want to clap eyes on me again so I can’t finish the work myself. I need someone capable to oversee the rest of what needs doing.’ He hauled in a breath. ‘I was hoping that person might be you.’

Frank pursed his lips. ‘But I’d have to do it behind Kit’s back?’

Alex nodded heavily. He’d known Frank would find the clandestine nature of his plan problematic.

‘I don’t know, Alex. Kit is a proud woman. She won’t accept money or charity from me, and it certainly sounds as if she won’t accept it from you.’

‘Look, in terms of materials most of the stuff is already there. The paint is in the garden shed and the new bathroom tiles are being stored in the laundry cupboard. I’m not stupid enough to offer to cover the costs of the labour. I know Kit can manage that.’

‘So…you just want me to oversee the work, see that they do a good job and don’t rip her off?’

Alex nodded and pulled a business card from his pocket. ‘The hardware store recommends these guys. Maybe you could point Kit in their direction.’

‘That all seems harmless enough.’ Those shrewd eyes surveyed him again, narrowed. ‘And?’

‘There’s this damn shower unit I ordered.’ Alex flung an arm out. ‘It’s top of the line, but they wouldn’t take my money because they weren’t sure if they could get it in. Now it appears they can and a bill will be enclosed upon delivery.’

‘Ah…’

Realization dawned in Frank’s eyes and Alex could read the denial forming there. ‘It’s expensive,’ he rushed on. And then he named the price.

Frank’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re spending how much on a shower cubicle?’

‘It’s top of the line—non-slip, safety glass and…and it’s easy clean, low maintenance.’ He dragged a hand down his face. ‘I wanted Kit and the baby to have the best.’

Frank threw his head back then and started to laugh. Alex shifted on the sand and scowled at the water, at his feet…at a seagull that screeched endlessly nearby. ‘You have to intercept that bill for me, Frank. Kit would never have chosen that unit and her resources won’t stretch to covering it.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’ Frank chuckled before breaking into a fresh gale of laughter. ‘Come on, lad. Let’s go for a swim.’

Alex waited at the Rock Pool on Tuesday, but Frank didn’t show. He knew Frank’s routine was a swim before lunch on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, but he waited there on Tuesday just in case Frank needed him for anything. Even though he’d given the older man his mobile phone number. And the address and phone number of his motel.

Frank showed on Wednesday. He told Alex that when he’d offered to organise for someone to finish the work on her house, Kit had accepted.

It should’ve taken a load off his mind. He knew this team would do a good job. But, as he and Frank swam, it was all Alex could do to keep afloat.

On Friday, Frank told him the painting should be finished by the close of business that day.

On the following Monday, Frank handed him the bill for the shower unit. ‘Arrived on Saturday,’ he said gruffly.

Not once did he tell Alex how Kit and the baby were doing—if she was eating well, if her last doctor’s visit had gone without a hitch…if she was happy. He ached with the need to know, but he didn’t ask. He appreciated all Frank had done and was continuing to do. He would not stretch the older man’s loyalties any more than he already had.

‘Guess once you pay that—’ Frank nodded at the bill ‘—you can head back to Sydney.’

His words punched Alex in the gut. Leave? But…

‘You’ve achieved what you set out to, Alex. Kit’s house is coming along. The bathroom will be finished by the end of the week.’

So soon? Alex stuck out his jaw. ‘I’m staying till it’s completely finished. In case there are any snags.’

Frank opened his mouth but with a shake of his head he shut it. ‘Let’s go for a swim.’

‘It’s all done. Completely finished.’

Alex stared at Frank, a ball of heaviness growing in his chest. It was Friday. ‘But…they said they didn’t think they’d be finished till tomorrow.’

‘They stayed late yesterday to finish up.’

The older man stretched his legs out in front of him. Alex couldn’t stretch anything. He ground a fist into the sand.

‘It looks grand.’

He was fiercely glad about that. He wanted Kit’s house perfect. But finished…?

Was Frank sure? ‘So the external painting is…?’

‘White with blue trim.’

Just like Kit wanted. ‘The guttering is replaced?’

‘Tick.’

‘The internal painting is all done?’

‘It’s lovely and fresh inside now.’

‘And the bathroom is new and clean and functional?’

‘Complete with that fancy shower unit.’

As each item was ticked off the list, Alex’s heart grew heavier. He wanted to ask what Kit thought of it. Did she like it? ‘What about the nursery?’ He latched onto that as a last straw.

‘She wants to decorate the nursery herself.’

She’d asked him to help her. His shoulders sagged. She didn’t want his help any more. She didn’t want to clap eyes on him ever again.

Not that he could blame her.

‘So your job here is done.’

‘I guess so.’ The words emerged slowly, reluctantly. So why didn’t it feel done?

‘Did you know that Doreen and I lost a child?’

Alex swung around.

‘It was a long time ago. Benji—he was nine. The sweetest little kid. Cancer.’

Alex stared. Finally he shook himself. ‘Frank, I had no idea.’ At least Chad was playing somewhere, happy, with his whole life to look forward to. ‘Mate, I’m really sorry.’

Frank nodded. ‘That kind of thing, it can tear your life apart, you know?’

He nodded. He knew.

‘I’m ashamed to admit it, but I took to drinking for a while.’

Alex’s lips twisted. ‘They call it self-medication these days.’

Frank snorted. ‘That’s just rot!’

They both stared out at the golden curve of beach spread out before them, at the clear water in the Rock Pool with its tiny waves breaking right on the shoreline. So calm, so peaceful, belying the swirl of emotions that slugged through Alex. ‘What got you through it?’ he finally asked.

‘I had Doreen and three other kiddies, all who needed me. When I realized I was letting them down, I…’ The older man’s voice broke. Alex found his eyes burning. ‘I suddenly realized that Benji, if he knew how I was behaving, he would’ve been ashamed of me.’

Alex raised his knees, rested his elbows on them and dropped his head to his hands. Sand from his hands ground against his forehead but he didn’t care. He ached for Frank and for all the other man had been through, but their situations were not the same.

‘You going to join me for one last swim, lad?’

Alex nodded and followed Frank down to the water. He grimaced at the term Frank had used—
last swim
. It sounded like a condemned man’s last supper. When his feet hit the water he had to admit that it felt that way too. He didn’t bother waiting for his body to adjust to the change of temperature. He dived straight in and started slicing through the water, pushing his body harder and faster. No matter how fast he went, his thoughts raced faster.

Kit’s house was finished. There was nothing more he could do here. It was time to return to Sydney, or…

Or what? Stay holed up in his hotel room like some damn hideaway?

He kicked his legs harder, pumped his arms faster, did lap after lap along the net of the Rock Pool until eventually he thought his lungs would burst. Halting, he shook the water out of his eyes and dragged an agonised breath into his body. Frank stroked up and down not too far away.

Given Frank and Doreen’s unrelenting cheerfulness, the way they were always eager for a chat, Alex would never have guessed that they had met with such tragedy in their lives.

Frank’s voice sounded through him.
‘I had Doreen and three other kiddies, all who needed me.’

If his grandfather had taken Frank’s attitude when Alex’s mother had left home and married against his wishes instead of shoring himself up with bitterness and anger, he’d have gained a son-in-law and a grandchild who’d have loved him unconditionally. Instead, he died with all his wealth, but not a soul at his bedside.

Alex shook his head, turned to rest against the net and stare out towards the channel. He couldn’t see Kit’s rock from here, but—

He froze.

In his mind he’d just given his grandfather a choice. That same choice was open to him too.

His stomach rolled over and over as if he’d swallowed a gallon of saltwater. In his hurt, his grandfather had turned his back on the people he loved and had cut himself off. Frank had turned towards the people he loved. In providing them with the support and care—the love—that they needed, it had mended his heart.

He glanced at Frank and the message Kit had been trying to impart suddenly hit him. Love made a person stronger, not weaker. He pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose, his mind spinning. Turning away from love was the easy thing to do, but a real man didn’t turn away from the people who needed him.