My Sister’s Secret (21 page)

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Authors: Tracy Buchanan

BOOK: My Sister’s Secret
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After a while, he sighed, putting his fork down. ‘It’s no good. I can’t leave you.’

Charity let out a breath of relief. ‘Thank God.’

He laughed. ‘I know, right? It’s just too awful to think about.’

‘But what about the States?’

‘I’ve been thinking, why go to the States when my office is already based in the centre of the UK’s cruise world?’

‘You’re actually going to build a cruise ship?’

Dan’s eyes sparked with excitement. ‘Why not? I’ve always dreamt of doing it. I’ve seen an apartment in town I can rent, too.’

Charity bit her lip. ‘I’m only really planning to stay for six months. Hope and I had plans…’

‘I know. Look, I’m not just doing this for you, Charity.’ He sighed. ‘Truth is, I was running away by choosing the States. But being with you makes me want to stay in the UK, whatever transpires between us.’

Charity explored his face. ‘What
is
going to transpire between us?’

He leant over, stroking her cheek. ‘I don’t know. But it seems pretty promising so far, doesn’t it?’

She smiled. ‘It does.’

The next morning, she woke to find Dan had made her breakfast in bed. As she dressed, butterflies in her stomach at the prospect of starting her new job, Dan watched her with a small smile on his face.

‘What’s so funny?’ she asked.

‘It’s just great watching you get ready for work. It’s great being with someone who cares as much for their job as I do.’

‘Is this alright?’ she asked, looking down at her black skirt and patterned blouse.

‘Gorgeous.’

‘I wasn’t sure if—’

‘Gorgeous,’ Dan repeated, coming up behind her and putting his arms around her as he kissed her neck. She watched them in the mirror. They were a contrast, his blond hair against her dark hair, his tanned skin against her pale skin. While she was all soft curves, he was long and wiry.

‘We fit perfectly, don’t we?’ he said as he examined them.

She smiled. ‘Yes.’

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a long rectangular box. ‘I hope this fits perfectly too.’

‘What’s this?’ she asked, taking it.

‘Just a good-luck present.’

She opened it, not believing her eyes when she saw a delicate gold watch with a pearlescent clock face inside. ‘Oh, Dan, you shouldn’t have.’

‘Try it on.’

She carefully took it out of the box, noticing an engraving on the back simply saying ‘Courage’. Then written on a note inside:

‘Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.’ Winston Churchill.

Dan x

Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Faith’s quote. How wonderful. It’s perfect, thank you.’

‘You’ll be brilliant,’ Dan said as he lifted the watch out, clasping it around her wrist.

She took a deep breath. ‘Right, I better go then.’

Over the next few weeks, Charity settled into her new job, pleasantly surprised by the variety of different cases she was dealing with. Some of the foundation-year girls she treated reminded her of her sister, that same contradiction of excitement and fear of living away from home for the first time. She and Dan also met up most nights for dinner, either out or at the stunning penthouse apartment Dan was renting.

A month after Charity started her job, they enjoyed a long leisurely pub lunch with Hope for her birthday, in a beautiful village just outside Busby-on-Sea. Charity loved how much Hope and Dan seemed to get on. After they dropped Hope off at home, they discovered an elderly couple with a broken-down car on the side of the road, so Dan pulled over to offer them a lift. Their large white cottage was beautiful, set overlooking the sea with a black slate roof. There was a pretty sign at its red door –
Poppy Acres –
and it was divided into sections, one larger section with six white windows looking out over the sea, then a smaller one with one window. There were no other buildings for miles, just the sea and the long sandy banks and the sky for company.

It was Charity’s idea of heaven.

When the couple invited them in for a cup of tea and a cake, Charity could see the house was just as perfect inside. It needed a lot of work, but the traditional dark slate floors, white walls and high beams were charming.

As Charity and the couple talked, Dan grew quiet, eyes on the sea outside. When it was time to go, the lady gave them a Victoria Sponge to take away and they walked towards Dan’s car.

‘Look at the view,’ Charity said, looking out at the sea, the waves satin grey below them, the moon a bright spark above. ‘Isn’t it just gorgeous?’

‘You really like it here, don’t you?’ Dan asked her.

‘It’s perfect.’

‘Let’s stay for a few moments. No need to hurry away.’ He took her hand and led her to a bench at the edge of the small stretch of sandy beach in front of the cottage.

‘They’re a lovely couple, aren’t they?’ Charity said, leaning her head on Dan’s shoulder. ‘I think my mum and dad would have been a bit like them if they were still around.’

Dan looked down at her, smoothing a stray hair behind her ear. ‘What were your parents like?’

‘Perfect in their imperfections, that’s how Hope always described them,’ Charity replied, smiling. ‘The house was always a mess, they let us stay up late and eat ice cream, Mum forgot to pick us all up from school once when it snowed so one of our teachers had to take us home.’ Charity laughed at the memory. ‘But they absolutely adored us, were always hugging us and telling us they loved us. And they adored each other too.’

Dan looked down at the ground, a frown appearing on his face.

‘Are you thinking about your own parents?’ Charity asked softly.

He nodded. ‘I wish they were as perfect as yours. My father was having an affair when he died, you know.’

Charity frowned. ‘I’m so sorry, Dan.’

‘My mother knew but she stayed with him. She was completely besotted. When someone feels that kind of overwhelming obsessive love, it can block everything else out.’ He clenched his jaw. ‘My father’s name was the last thing she said when she died, even though I was there with her, had nursed her through her illness. She just looked at me blankly then said his name, “Mark”, and then she was gone. I sometimes wonder if she even loved me.’

Charity squeezed his hand. ‘Of course she loved you, she was your mother.’

‘You can’t know that.’

‘I can,’ she said softly. ‘I know how easy it is to love you.’ She watched Dan’s face. This was the first time she’d told him she loved him. It was the first time she’d admitted it to herself.

As she watched Dan, though, he didn’t react.

Instead, he carried on talking. ‘Is it easy to love me? Maybe you see me with rose-tinted glasses. We barely know each other after all.’

Charity tried to hide her disappointment. What was she expecting, some flamboyant declaration of love in response? ‘
I
feel like we know each other,’ she said.

He sighed, raking his fingers through his blond hair. ‘Sorry, I’m being glum. I always get like this when I talk about my parents.’ He looked at her. ‘I just worry you’re putting me on a pedestal. I haven’t got this far in my business without stepping on a few heads.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘I’m not perfect, that’s all I’m saying.’

‘Nobody is, Dan. God knows I’m not. But you’re a good man.’

His face softened. ‘This is what I like about you, seeing myself through your eyes.’

Like
but not
love
.

She looked down at their joined hands. Maybe she was getting this all wrong? Maybe this was a fling, a crazy extended rendezvous before Dan started his new life in the States. They hadn’t discussed any kind of future, they’d just lived huddled up in their own world the past few weeks, making love and talking about everything but what they really meant to each other. It had always been so over the top with Niall, declarations of love within a week of first kissing each other. Yes, things had moved quickly with Dan physically, but what about emotionally?

‘Charity, what’s wrong?’ Dan asked, frowning.

‘I don’t know. I guess – I guess I’m just curious about how you see us.’ She smiled quickly. She didn’t want to appear desperate.

He shook his head incredulously. ‘How can you not know?’

‘Know what?’

‘That I love you, completely and utterly. It’s obvious, isn’t it?’ He pulled her close, looking down at her with his sparkling green eyes, the moon a bright orb above his head. ‘I just don’t want to disappoint you, that’s all.’

‘You won’t.’

The next morning, Charity and Hope shared one of their regular Saturday morning phone calls.

‘How’s the job?’ Hope asked.

‘Great, actually. My boss is lovely and the students are wonderful.’

‘Surely students being
wonderful
means you don’t have much of a job to do?’

Charity smiled to herself. ‘People who see counsellors can be wonderful too, Hope.’

‘Like Lana North? Speaking of whom, how’s Don Johnson?’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Don Johnson from
Miami Vice
, don’t you think Dan looks a bit like him?’

‘I thought you hated TV.’

‘My new girl Suzanne loves him. She tried to make me stick a poster up in the café, said it was
art,
can you believe it?’

Charity laughed. She loved talking to her sister.

‘I told her if I saw it anywhere in the café,’ Hope continued, ‘she’d have no chance of becoming the café’s manager in a few years if I have my way.’

‘Well, you won’t because you’ll be long gone by then.’

Hope went quiet. ‘Maybe not.’

‘What do you mean?’

She sighed. ‘There’s just too much work to do to make it saleable, Charity. And that’s just the café. I had that surveyor out to value the house the other day. He said the market’s a mess and it could take us years to sell it considering how much updating it needs.’

‘Then we update it.’

‘With what money?’

‘The money I’m earning here!’

‘But you need to pay your rent there, you need to eat and live. Let’s just face it, it’s not going to happen.’

Charity slumped down on to her sofa. ‘Is it really that bad?’ she asked.

‘Really. But you know what? I don’t mind. You know how much I love this place. Maybe it was just a pipe dream. I’ve got these poems to write for that editor, that’s keeping me busy.’

‘But you’re on your own there.’

‘You know me, Charity. It suits me. The truth is I’ve never heard you sound as happy as you are right now. It’s either the air out there or it’s a certain blond businessman called Dan North. I don’t want you to give that up. Southampton is closer than London was. You can pop back to Busby-on-Sea with Dan and give Suzanne a heart attack when a Don Johnson lookalike walks into the café.’

‘I
am
happy. But are you?’

‘Yes. This is where my life is, I think the universe was trying to tell me that by making the café and house unsaleable. Now, tell me more about Don Johnson.’

As they talked over the next half an hour, Charity felt tears prick her eyelashes. When she could finally put the phone down, she burst into tears.

‘Oh, Hope,’ she whispered.

Her doorbell sounded. She opened the door to find Dan the other side.

He frowned. ‘Charity, what on earth’s the matter?’

‘Hope can’t sell the café or the house. She’s insisting I stay here.’

He pulled her into his arms. ‘Is that such a bad thing?’

‘I’ll miss her.’

‘But you’re happy to stay despite this, aren’t you?’

She looked up at him. ‘Hope said I’m the happiest she’s ever seen me. And you know what? I am.’

His face lit up. ‘You don’t know how that makes me feel to hear you say that. Does this really mean you’re staying here in Southampton?’

‘My boss did mention there might be an opportunity to extend my contract.’

He smiled. ‘Then that’s settled. You’re staying. Looks like we have some celebrating to do.’

Over the next few weeks, the concerns Charity had about Hope dissipated. She seemed genuinely happy when they talked on the phone and when they met for the occasional lunch at a pub between their two places.

When they were out at dinner one evening, Dan presented Charity with a box.

‘Not another gift,’ she said, opening it. ‘I feel bad, I only got you that new tie.’

‘And I love it,’ he said, looking down at the aqua tie she’d got him. ‘Let me spoil you, darling. I work hard and this makes me happy.’

She smiled. ‘If you insist.’

When she opened it, she was surprised to see a key inside along with a beautiful red poppy brooch encrusted with diamonds. She frowned. ‘It’s beautiful, Dan. But what’s the key for?’

‘Our house.’

She looked up at him. ‘
Our
house?’

‘Poppy Acres. I bought the cottage by the sea you so loved.’

‘But the elderly couple who lived there…?’

‘It became too much for them. They’ve been meaning to move into a bungalow on a complex for the elderly and were thinking about putting the house up for sale when I dropped in a few weeks ago.’

‘You visited them again?’

Dan nodded, clasping her hands in his own, his eyes excited. ‘I just kept thinking about the house and couldn’t resist visiting it again. When they told me they wanted to sell it, I knew I’d be a fool not to put an offer in. You adored it, plus it’s closer to Busby-on-Sea for visiting Hope, but still an easy commute to Southampton for us.’

Charity shook her head. ‘I can’t believe you bought it for us.’

Dan’s smile faltered. ‘Was I wrong to?’

‘No, I just—’ Charity smiled. ‘Sorry, I sound so ungrateful. It’s a beautiful house, exactly the sort of place I imagine myself living.
Us
living.’

‘Am I rushing things? I didn’t mean for us to move in straight away, I was waiting until the time was right. But I couldn’t miss the opportunity.’

‘No, no, I’d love to live with you,’ Charity said, realising she really would. ‘I hate the nights we’re apart. I guess I’m just not used to people buying houses for me. Can I put some money towards it? I need to feel like this is
our
house, do you understand?’

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