An Impossible Secret (9 page)

“Glad to help.”

“I’m sorry I doubted you before.”

“It’s okay. I’d have probably done the same if I’d found a pair of men’s boxers in your handbag.”

“Funny you should say that…” She picked up her bag.

They laughed.

Kerry stroked his cheek with her finger. They were lost in each other’s eyes.

“I think I love you,” she said softly.

Brice took hold of her finger, and touched it to his lips. For the longest moment, neither of them moved.

“I suppose we’d better make a start,” Brice said. “You go first, so I can hear what you say.”

“Okay.” Kerry took a deep breath, and waited a moment until her heart had stopped racing.

“Oh hello, I’m trying to trace a Peter Stafford.” Kerry spoke into the phone as Brice watched on. “Okay, sorry to have bothered you.” She crossed through the first name on her list.

“That seems straightforward enough—even for me.” Brice called the first number on his list.

One hour later, and neither of them had struck gold. Brice had found two Peter Staffords—one in his nineties, the other only ten years of age.

“Time for a break,” Brice said. “What do you want to drink? We’ve got coke, lemonade… or I could make coffee.”

“I'm surprised you know how.”

“Cheeky sod.” Brice tapped her arm playfully. “I’ll have you know I’m something of an expert in the kitchen.”

“Does that mean you can make toast, and know how to boil an egg?”

“I’m used to making my own meals. I’ll show you at lunch time.”

“Colour me impressed.” Kerry decided not to admit she was something of a disaster when it came to cooking of any kind.  “I’ll have lemonade, please”

“What are you thinking about?” Brice asked when he’d finished his coke.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s just that…” Kerry hesitated. “I don’t want there to be any secrets between us, but I don’t want to betray a friend’s trust.”

“Jimmy?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t want to ruin your friendship.”

“I doubt there’s anything you could tell me about Jimmy that would shock me. We’ve been through a lot together.”

She seemed unsure, but said, “He told me about your mother and father.”

It was obvious from Brice’s expression, he hadn’t expected that.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want any secrets between us. I didn’t want to have to pretend I didn’t know. We don’t have to talk about it—I just needed you to be aware I knew.”

Brice stood up and, for a moment, Kerry thought he was going to walk out. Instead, he began to slowly pace up and down the room. She wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the right words. After several minutes, he resumed his seat.

“Why did Jimmy tell you?”

“He thought it would convince me you'd never cheat on me with another girl. I shouldn’t have needed convincing. I should have trusted you.”

“If that’s what it took to stop me losing you, then I’m glad he did it. You had no reason to trust me before.”

“I trust you now—completely.”

“I loved my dad.” Brice’s voice wavered.

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

“I want to.”

He said nothing more for several minutes. Kerry waited.

“My dad was a good man. I mean a really, really good man. He would help anyone, and always try to see the good in everyone—even my mother. I don’t know how or why my parents ever got together, but they did. You’ve seen my mother—she’s always been that way. She's selfish, self-centred, and cheated on him almost from day one. Dad tried to change her, and he turned a blind eye for as long as he could, but eventually he couldn’t take any more.”

“Why didn’t he just leave her?”

“I don’t think he could bear to leave me. In the end he did anyway, but by then his mind had been destroyed. I hate my mother, and all women like her.”

“Why do you still live with her?”

“I didn’t have any choice when I was young. Now? It’s financial—plain and simple. She pays all the bills—I finish uni with less debt. As soon as I’ve got my degree, and get a job, I’ll be gone, and she’ll never see me again. She can rot in Hell for all I care.”

“You won’t fall out with Jimmy for telling me, will you?”

“No. I won’t let him know you’ve told me. I’m glad it’s out in the open now. No more secrets between us—ever.”

“No more secrets,” Kerry said, but as she did, she couldn't look him in the eye.

Chapter 41

Brice was about to call the next name on his list when he caught a snippet of Kerry’s phone conversation.

“When? How? I'm so sorry.”

Brice tried to catch her eye, but she was too engrossed in the call to notice.

“I’d like that,” Kerry said. “Tomorrow? Yes. Thanks. Eleven will be fine.”

After she'd ended the call, Brice waited. Kerry seemed lost in her thoughts.

“Have you found him?”

“He’s dead.” She stared out of the window. “He died just over a year ago.”

Brice had so many questions, but sensed he should wait until Kerry was ready to say more.

“He was killed in Iraq.”

“Was he in the army?”

“No. He was an engineer working on a private contract. He was killed by a roadside bomb.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“That was his sister. I've arranged to meet her. She said her brother—my father, often talked about me.” Kerry could no longer hold back the tears. “Will you come with me tomorrow?”

“If you want me to.” Brice put an arm around her. “Wouldn’t you rather speak to her alone?”

“No. I’d like you to be there.”

Two hours later, Brice emerged from the kitchen.

“Did you make this?” Kerry stared at the meal he had just placed in front of her.

“What do you think I’ve been doing for the last couple of hours?”

Brice had refused to allow Kerry into the kitchen while he prepared dinner. He couldn’t work with an audience.

“Are you sure you didn’t get it delivered to the back door?”

“Cheek! Get it eaten. You can do the dishes.”

“Deal.  Hmm, it’s delicious.”

“Thanks.”

“If the whole architect thing doesn’t work out, you could always become a chef.”

Kerry kept her word, and wouldn't let Brice help with the dishes. Afterwards, she made coffee for them both.

“There's something I want you to know,” Brice said.

“What?” His tone had made her suddenly nervous.

“It's hard to put it into words.”

“Just say it. Whatever it is.”

“We've got the house to ourselves. Most girls would probably expect me to have made a move.”

 “I’m not most girls.”

“I know. I just don’t want you to think I’m not attracted to you or that I wouldn’t like you to stay the night. It’s just…”

“It’s okay. I’m not ready yet. Not quite. I love you, but it doesn’t mean we have to rush into anything.”

“I love you too,” he said.

It was the first time he’d said it, and she had no doubts he meant it. Kerry’s heart felt like it would explode—she'd never been so happy.

Chapter 42

“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer me to wait in the car?” Brice glanced at the small, semi-detached house.

“No.” Kerry took his hand. “I want you by my side.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

A tall woman, with short dark hair, opened the door to them.

“You must be Kerry!” The woman took Kerry into her arms. Brice could only look on as both women dissolved into tears.

“I wish Peter could have been here to see you,” the woman said.

“This is Brice. I hope you don’t mind…”

“Not at all. Nice to meet you Brice. I'm Carol. Come in, won’t you.”

The living room looked like a toy store.

“Sorry about the mess. I asked a friend to take the kids for a few hours—it's the only way we're ever going to have a sensible conversation. Have a seat—if you can find one.”

Kerry moved a giant teddy bear off the sofa. Brice squeezed in beside her.

“I’m Peter’s big sister,” Carol said. “I can’t believe you’re here. Peter used to talk about you all of the time.”

Brice took hold of Kerry’s hand.

“He was always saying he hoped you’d come looking for him one day.” The words caught in Carol's throat. “It’s such a shame…”

“I wanted to come before, but I had to wait until I was eighteen.”

“I know, dear. It isn’t your fault. It isn’t anyone’s fault. I just wished he could have seen you—he loved you so much.”

“Did he talk much about the adoption?” Kerry said.

“I think he found it too painful. I wasn’t living in the area at the time. I'd married and moved away. The wedding was a small affair—just the two of them and the witnesses—I didn’t get an invite. We lost touch for several years—it was only after my own marriage failed that I moved back down here.”

“Do you know my mother?”

“Not really. Everything happened while I was living at the other side of the country. I had my own problems at the time, so I didn’t see Peter for several years. By the time I came back, he’d divorced, and you'd been adopted. I never actually met Dawn.”

“I met her a few days ago,” Kerry said.

“How did it go?” Carol asked.

“Okay. She seemed pleased to see me. I asked her about my father, but she didn’t seem to want to talk about him. I don’t think she knows he’s dead.”

“She knows,” Carol said. “She was invited to the funeral, but she didn’t come.”

“Do you know what happened between them? Why did they break up?”

“I have no idea. Peter wouldn’t talk about Dawn. Like I said, I wasn’t even around at the time. I think they were probably both too young. I’m not sure they were ready for marriage, let alone a child.”

“He never married again?”

“No. He always said he never would. He didn't want a wife and he didn't want any more kids. He said he had one child, and that was enough for him. I know for a fact he always celebrated your birthday—quietly and alone.”

Brice could sense Kerry’s hurt. He squeezed her hand a little tighter.

Two hours later, Carol checked her watch.

“I’m sorry. I should have collected the kids ten minutes ago. I have to go.”

“Thank you for seeing me.” Kerry stood up. Brice still had her hand in his.

“I hope you’ll visit again—often.” Carol followed them out of the door.

“I’d like that.”

“Next time, I’ll introduce you to the kids. They’ll be thrilled to know they have a new cousin.”

Chapter 43

After they'd left Carol's house, Kerry asked Brice to drop her back home. She told him she had uni work which she needed to catch up on, but he suspected she was emotionally drained after the events of the day. He tried to engage her in conversation on the drive home, but she’d closed down. It was hardly surprising—within the space of a few days, she'd met her biological mother, and discovered her biological father had died.

When Brice arrived back at his house, his mother’s car was already on the drive.

“Brice, darling. Where have you been?”

“Out.”

“Did your little girlfriend—what's her name—Kelly. Did Kelly come over?”

“Her name's Kerry.”

“So, did she?”

Brice nodded.

“Good for you two. Do I need to change the sheets?”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Why? I’m just pleased you've found yourself a nice girl. Hopefully, she isn’t too nice.”

It took all of his willpower not to slap the grin off his mother’s face.

“I don’t want to talk about it. You make everything dirty.”

“So touchy. I don’t know where you get it from. I’m starving. Why don’t you make us both dinner?”

“Make your own.”

Brice lay on his bed; his back was propped up by pillows. He was staring at the posters on the wall opposite, but his mind was elsewhere. He wasn’t sure if he could continue to live at home. It had been the sensible move from a financial standpoint, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to be under the same roof as his mother.

The door to his bedroom opened, and his mother stepped inside.

“Can't you knock?” He made no attempt to disguise his anger. “What do you want?”

“Charming!” She snapped. “This just came through the letterbox.” She handed him a small white envelope. His name was scrawled on the front.

“Who delivered it?”

“I don't know. I didn't see. Aren't you going to open it?”

He gestured towards the door, and waited for his mother to take the hint. When she'd left the room, he jumped off the bed and slammed the door closed. The envelope contained a photo, on the back of which had been scribbled:

This is the real Kerry—a slut!

He flipped over the photograph. It was the image of a young woman—her face visible only from the nose down. She was wearing a low-cut white top which barely covered her nipples. Her blue, micro skirt was little more than a belt. This wasn’t Kerry—it couldn’t be. She'd never dress like that. And yet, the nose and mouth were unmistakably hers. Who had taken the photo? Why would Kerry have worn those clothes? He had a million questions running around his head. He needed answers, and there was only one way to get them. Brice shoved the photo into his pocket.

“What was it?” His mother shouted when he emerged from his bedroom.

He ignored her.

“Brice! Wait!”

It was too late; he was already out of the door.

Chapter 44

Brice was about to start the car when his phone rang.

“Jimmy? I can’t talk now. I’ll call you later.”

“Brice, this is important.”

“It'll have to wait!” Brice ended the call. Immediately, his phone rang again. This time, he let it go to voice mail.

On the drive to Kerry’s house, he tried to figure out what he was going to say, but by the time he arrived, he still had no idea. There was no going back now—he needed answers. He took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. It opened almost instantly.