Summer of Secrets (10 page)

TWENTY

Someone was sponging her forehead. Rhi stirred, lifting her hand to push them away.

“No,” she mumbled. Her head felt cold. “Ruth…”

Warm hands took her fingers and held them. She heard her name called from somewhere far away.

“Rhi? Please wake up, Rhi!'

Rhi opened her eyes groggily. Polly was beside her, anxiously sponging her forehead. Over by the door, Chief Murray of the Heartside Bay Police stood with his cap in his hands. A faint sense of panic stirred her again.

“Where am I?” she mumbled. “What happened?”

“I didn't meant to frighten you when I appeared like that, Rhi,” Chief Murray said apologetically. “There's nothing to worry about, nothing bad has happened. Your parents called me, asking if I could find you. They were worried about where you'd gone, that was all. I spoke to Lila and she suggested here. How are you feeling?”

Rhi sat up. “A bit stupid,” she said weakly.

Polly put the sponge down and hugged her. “You gave me such a fright,” she said a little tearfully. “One minute you were standing there and the next minute you were on the floor. Chief Murray helped me to carry you in here.”

Rhi looked at Chief Murray. “So … everything's OK? There hasn't…” She swallowed. “There hasn't been another accident?”

The chief of police shook his head. “Just two worried parents. I've called them to let them know you're safe.”

Rhi rubbed her eyes. “Thank you,” she said after a moment.

She should have called when she had got to Polly's. Of course her parents would have been worried. After losing Ruth, her mother in particular always wanted to know where Rhi was. Her fussing had annoyed Rhi on countless occasions, but she suddenly found that she understood. She was all her parents had left.

She took out her phone and dialled home. Her mother answered on the first ring.

“Rhi? Thank goodness you're safe. You are safe, aren't you?”

“I'm safe, Mum,” Rhi assured her. “I just needed…” She remembered Polly's phrase. “I just needed space to think.”

“I had your father on the phone, beside himself about an argument you'd had, wanting to know if you were with me. But of course we'd argued too, so you weren't here. We were so worried… It was
thoughtless
of you not to let us know where you were!” Through the anger, Rhi could detect acute relief in her mother's voice. Even a flash of love. “Promise me you'll never disappear like that again.”

“I promise,” she said. “I was mad at you, but I didn't mean to scare you, Mum.”

“Are you coming home?”

Her mother sounded strangely vulnerable. Rhi thought about her bag and guitar, still sitting in Polly's hallway. She thought about her father and Laura and the little flat, and her mother all alone, clutching the phone to her ear.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I'm coming home.”

“I'm passing that way, I can drop you back,” Chief Murray offered as Rhi slid her phone into her pocket.

“Thank you, Chief Murray. And thanks for everything else, Polly,” she said, looking at her friend. “For listening.”

Polly hugged her. “Any time.”

It wasn't far from Polly's house to her own. Rhi sat in the back of the police car with her guitar in her lap. Her parents were both waiting in the door when Chief Murray swung up by the front gate. Rhi watched them both hurry down to the gate to meet her. Her mother pull her into a hard hug.

“You'll be the death of me, Rhiannon Wills,” she said fiercely.

Rhi smiled against her mother's jacket. “I'll try not to be.”

Her father hovered beside her, looking unsure whether to hug her or not. Rhi put him out of his misery and hugged him first.

“We all need tea and toast,” her mother announced loudly. “Unless you have any better ideas, Patrick.”

“Whatever you say, Anita.”

Rhi sat at the kitchen table and watched her parents dancing politely around each other. She appreciated the way they weren't shouting for once. It didn't seem fair to tell them she was already full of tea and biscuits from Polly's house.

Toast made and mugs filled, her parents sat opposite her at the table. Rhi caught the way they glanced at each other.

“What?” she said warily.

Her mother stirred her tea with a little more vigour than necessary. “I saw the video,” she said. “The song you wrote about Ruth.”

Rhi blanched. “You did?”

“I heard it when you sang it at the Heartbeat,” her father put in. “Your mother said you'd pulled it up on the computer for her this afternoon.”

“And then you shut it down,” her mother added. She looked uncomfortable. “I opened it again when you left. The introduction … well. Let's say it caught my attention.”

Rhi could feel her throat tightening. “And?” she said nervously. “What did you think?”

Her mother's eyes shone weirdly. Rhi realized they were full of tears. “I thought it was beautiful,” she said. “You based it on those times in the playground, didn't you?”

Her mother
remembered
? “Ruth always dared me to swing high,” Rhi whispered. “It was scary, but it made me feel alive.
She
made me feel alive.”

“She had that effect on us too,” said her father.

Rhi couldn't quite believe they were having this conversation. Talking about Ruth. It was as if they'd had an unspoken agreement on the subject that somehow wasn't there any more.

“Do you remember when Ruth jumped into the river after her ball, Patrick?” said her mother suddenly. She had an odd, faraway look in her eyes. “Rhi, you were too young to remember this, but we were walking along the river when she dropped her ball in the water. She was waist deep in the water before I had blinked. Thank goodness the river was shallow. She was a daredevil, that one.”

“She was only about five,” said Rhi's dad. “Or was it six?”

“Six. The ball was a birthday present from Auntie June.”

A red ball floating among some ducks. Ruth's green dress covered in river weeds.

“It was red,” Rhi blurted. “The ball. Wasn't it?”

Her parents looked astonished.

“You do remember!” her mother exclaimed.

Rhi laughed, partly out of shock. “Yes. I cried.”

“I don't remember that,” said her father. “You were always a stoical little thing in those ridiculous bunches your mother put in your hair.”

“They weren't ridiculous, they were adorable,” said her mother. She sipped her tea. “Ruth put glue in them once.”

There was magic in the air. Rhi could feel it. Ruth was peeping around the kitchen door, laughing along with them as the memories started pouring out. If she turned around, she might glimpse her from the corner of her eye. She didn't dare to move.

“You know I went to London on Saturday?” she said quietly. “I went to Ruth's grave. I met someone there. Mac – Chris McAllister, the boy whose car was involved in Ruth's accident. He wrote to me. Remember the letter you found in my room, Mum? That was him. He wanted to tell me something about the day the accident happened.”

Her parents both looked as if they'd been turned to stone. Rhi forged on.

“He told me things about that day that I'd never understood. About him and Ruth and how they loved each other and how scared they were of telling Alex. And I … I told Mac things too. About how I had blurted out that I'd seen him kissing Ruth when Alex was listening, and how Alex had gone looking for him in the car…” Rhi was trembling hard. She wasn't sure she could continue.

Her mother reached across the table and took her hand. “Rhi, you were twelve years old. There were lots of things about that day that you couldn't have understood.”

“I blame myself,” Rhi said miserably. “Alex wouldn't have taken Ruth out to look for Mac if I hadn't said what I'd said. I know … I know you'll never forgive me. I'm sorry.”

Her parents exchanged a long, wordless look.

“Rhi, your mother and I reconciled ourselves to what happened a long time ago,” said her father gently. “It was a tragic accident, a chain of events that we can't change. We should have talked to you about it at the time, but we were all in too much pain. Your mother and I don't blame you. We love you.”

Rhi wiped her eyes, which had filled with tears.

“You can be very silly sometimes, Rhiannon,” said her mother, in the brisk tone she used to cover up her emotions. “We both love you very much. Your father has offered to let you live with him for a while, if it would help you get used to the idea of this divorce. I don't want to lose you, but keeping you here with me might do just that.”

“I'd like to have you,” said her father. He looked intently at Rhi. “If you'd like to come.”

“Yes, I'd like that very much,” Rhi found herself saying. “Very much.”

TWENTY-ONE

Rhi groaned and straightened up with her hands on her back. The box of shoes had been heavy. Moving all her stuff into her dad's flat was proving to be a tough workout. She must have walked up and down the long flight of stairs to the top of the building at least twenty times already that morning, and it was only half past ten.

“You look about a hundred and three when you do that back-stretching thing,” Brody observed, a large box of books in his arms.

Rhi giggled, and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “Shut up and put my books by the window, will you?”

“Your slave obeys,” said Brody, and set the books down where Rhi had indicated.

Rhi draped her arms around his neck as he stood up again. “And what would my slave like in return?” she teased.

Brody's blue eyes shone with laughter. “A kiss from my lady,” he said. “And less flogging.”

“The pyramids didn't build themselves, you know,” said Rhi.

Brody brushed her hair from her face and kissed her by the light of the little window with its view of Heartside Bay's rooftops. Rhi gave a sigh of contentment and turned in the circle of his arms to admire her little room. It was small, admittedly, but it was adorable. One of the first things she'd done was hang up the picture of her, Ruth and their parents laughing in Trafalgar Square. It sat against the white walls like a small and glowing jewel. There were no curtains yet, but Polly had promised to help her make some very soon.
Yellow
, Rhi thought, imagining them blowing in the breeze over her little white bed.
A happy colour.

Her father staggered into the room with an enormous box.

“Where do you want this, Rhi?” he puffed.

Rhi didn't remember a box that large. “That's not mine,” she said, mystified. “Where did you get it?”

“Take it from me, will you? Before I drop it!”

Brody moved to lift the box from her father's arms, but Rhi beat him to it. She staggered back slightly as her father let go with a wink. The box was as light as air.

“There's nothing in it!” she said indignantly.

“Good joke though,” her father said, grinning. “I had a whole load of new canvases delivered yesterday in that thing. You could probably build a house with it.”

It was hard to resist her father when he was in this kind of jokey mood. She hadn't seen him this carefree in months. Rhi put the box down and rested her hands on her hips as Brody laughed loud and long.

“Ruth had a box like that once,” she said, unable to resist a smile. “She painted it red and gave it windows. We played with it until it fell down.”

Her father looked delighted at the memory. “If there was a little more space around here, you could make a playhouse of your own. Tea break?”

The flat was looking much tidier than the last time Rhi had been here. As she and Brody sat at the small kitchen table with its red tablecloth and vase of yellow and white daisies, she sensed a woman's touch in the arrangement of furniture, the curtains at the windows and the matching crockery by the sink. Some of her father's pictures had been mounted and hung around the living room, the pebble still life and the seagull among them. They had been hung with care and attention, like the hanger knew which space would bring out the best in which picture.

“Penny for them?” said Brody, reaching across the tablecloth to hold Rhi's hand as she finished her tea.

“I was just thinking how homely this place looks. I think Dad's found someone who understands him at last. I know what that's like,” Rhi added shyly.

“I'll fetch some more boxes,” said her dad, heading for the door to the flat. “Back in a minute.”

Brody pulled Rhi to her feet. “Some more kisses needed, I think.”

Rhi wondered if she'd ever get tired of kissing Brody. He was such a lovely height and shape.
We fit together like … like an A major chord
. Rhi grinned to herself, pleased with her comparison.

The front door banged back on its hinges. Rhi turned to face her friends, resting the side of her face against Brody's shirt.

“Whew, those are some stairs,” Lila panted, holding her sides. “We're all going to get really fit coming to visit you.” Her eyes widened at the sight of Brody and Rhi with their arms around each other. “I knew it!” she hooted. “I knew you two would get together in the end!”

Eve whistled. “You really were a romance waiting to happen. Adorable. Simply adorable.”

Behind Eve, Polly winked at Rhi. She had kept Rhi's secret, just as she'd promised. But Rhi was through with secrets now. She smiled at her friends as Brody squeezed her around the waist.

“We do our best,” she laughed.

Rhi's dad staggered into the flat again with one shoebox in his arms. “This one almost broke me in half,” he announced, smirking. “I swear, it weighs more than this whole building put together.”

 

Later that night the Heartbeat Café was packed. Even the roof garden, usually the preserve of the brave few who didn't mind walking up and down the stairs to fetch food and drink, was full of people crammed on to benches, enjoying the views far out across the glittering sea.

Backstage, Brody ran his thumb tenderly across Rhi's cheek.

“Ready to sing?” he asked.

The cheer was deafening as they stepped hand in hand into the spotlight, their guitars around their necks. Rhi blinked at the crowd in astonishment. Even by the usual Saturday night standards, it was busy tonight.

She saw her friends crammed around the usual table, clapping louder than anyone else in the room. HEARTBEAT SUMMER SPECTACULAR! screamed a large banner slung across the ceiling. There was red and white bunting looped around the walls, and yellow and blue balloons everywhere. Almost every table held a huge pitcher of fruit punch, heavy with ice and mint.
MINT PUNCH: FREE PITCHER WITH EVERY SUMMER SANDWICH PLATTER!
was scrawled across the blackboard behind her father's head at the bar. The idea of free punch had Eve's style stamped all over it. Eve could spot a business opportunity like a cat spots a mouse.

“Loving the punch idea, Eve,” Rhi called down from the stage, grinning.

Hand in hand with her girlfriend Becca, Eve raised her glass. “Don't thank me,” she drawled. “Thank all those lovely free mint plants currently running wild in the roof garden. I think your father ran out of sandwiches half an hour ago.”

“Start with “Heartbreaker
”
, Rhi!” someone shouted from the back of the room.

Rhi obliged, with Brody on harmonies. Tonight it felt as if they were more in tune with each other than ever. Their voices soared and looped together, their guitar strings blending into one sound. The crowd knew most of the songs, somehow – even “With Me By Myself
”
, which Rhi performed right at the end of the show. The power of social media was an amazing thing.

“I thought I would fail,” Rhi sang as the crowd swayed, “I thought I would fall, but flying alone isn't lonesome at all…”

“Because you aren't far, you're so very near…” Brody played softly beside her.

“You're deep in my heart and you won't disappear,” the crowd sang. “I'm flying with you but I'm all by myself … I'm flying with you but I'm all by myself.”

Rhi's eyes were bright with tears as she smiled at the rapturous response of the crowd. As she bowed, she caught sight of a figure in a black suit and grey shirt, standing beside her father and waving.

“Beautiful,” her mother mouthed at her across the room. “I'm proud of you, Rhi. I'm so proud of you.”

Rhi waved and smiled harder than ever, clutching tightly on to Brody's hand. Her mother was here, listening to her sing for the first time. It made a perfect night better than she could ever have hoped for. Her mother was proud of her.

And, somewhere, she knew that Ruth was too.