My Sister’s Secret

She curled her hands into fists. Damn it, why had she come?

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were coming,’ he said quietly.

‘I didn’t realise you were.’

His frown deepened. She took the chance to properly look at him. He was wearing black jeans and a grey t-shirt, his cheeks flushed from the cold. The long black hair she’d once so loved was now shaved close to his head. There were fine lines around his eyes that weren’t there ten years before and a small scar across his chin. She wondered if that had happened in prison, and her stomach twisted with nausea at the thought.

There were new tattoos entwining his arms too, black warped clock faces and gothic anchors, even a whole tree stretching up the olive skin of his right arm. And then that tattoo etched onto the side of his neck, the same tattoo she had on the small of her back, a black cresting wave beneath a blue moon. As she stared at it, she could almost feel the needle burning into her skin.

He caught her eye and a host of emotions seemed to run over his face.

Niall shifted uncomfortably.

She could pretend to be ill and leave, couldn’t she? Say the wine had been too rich, that her tummy was fragile. What would it matter? She didn’t have to see any of them again.

Dan looked from Charity to Niall and took a deep breath. He could definitely sense the atmosphere. ‘What can I get you to drink, Niall?’ he asked.

‘Do you have beer?’

‘Of course.’

Niall looked around him, brow furrowing as he finally noticed the explicit murals on the walls.

‘Oh, do you like them?’ Lana asked, twisting around in her chair, one thin arm elegantly draped across the back of Dan’s chair. ‘I had them done when we moved in. They’re wonderful, aren’t they?’

‘They’re different,’ Niall said.

Dan handed his beer to him and sat down.

‘Your house is gorgeous,’ Charity said, desperate to bring some sense of normality to the dinner. ‘You must feel a bit lost in a big house like this, just the two of you?’

‘We manage to fill it with all Lana’s knick-knacks, don’t we, darling?’ Dan said to Lana.

‘I may have a teensy bit of an obsession with antiques,’ Lana replied, laughing. ‘It fills the time. We’re off to Paris soon so I can’t wait to do some shopping there.’

‘You really do live the life, don’t you?’ Charity said, smiling.

‘A very bourgeois life,’ Niall said as he looked around him.

Dan frowned. ‘We’re hardly bourgeois. Lana’s dad was a dustman. My father worked on ships, my mother was a nurse. My shipping business wasn’t handed to me on a plate, I started out in the docks with my father, hauling equipment about.’

Niall’s eyes lit up the way Charity remembered they did when the subject turned to politics. ‘Doesn’t matter how you got there,’ he said, ‘you’re still an owner. That makes you bourgeois. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, I’m just making the point.’

‘Fine,’ Dan said with a smile. ‘If working hard makes me one of the bourgeoisie, then so be it.’

‘What about your staff, do they work hard too?’ Niall asked Dan.

‘I don’t operate that kind of business culture,’ Dan replied. ‘My staff aren’t expected to work long hours.’

Niall fixed him with his blue eyes. ‘But they do, don’t they? Some of them, anyway. And yet you’re still the one with the mansion, the fast cars, the expensive champagne,’ he said, gesturing around him.

Charity noticed the tops of Dan’s cheeks going red.

‘Ladies and gentleman,’ she said to ease the tension, ‘meet the modern-day Karl Marx.’

Dan’s shoulders relaxed and Lana laughed.

‘Never could impress you with my political rants, could I?’ Niall said, holding her gaze.

‘So, Charity, what brings you back to Busby-on-Sea?’ Dan asked her. ‘You worked as an NHS counsellor in London, right?’

‘Counsellor?’ Niall asked. ‘I didn’t realise that was your thing.’

‘It is now.’ She turned to Dan. ‘I was made redundant so had to return.’

‘Bloody Thatcher,’ Niall said.

Dan smiled to himself.

‘I bet that must be fascinating,’ Lana said, ‘hearing about people’s more intimate secrets as they lie on a couch.’

‘It’s not quite as exciting as that,’ Charity said. ‘More like a battered old chair in a stuffy office with stained carpets. People are referred by their GPs and a lot of the issues are ones many people deal with: insomnia, anxiety, depression.’

‘Oh, you must speak to Dan then,’ Lana said. ‘He’s a terrible sleeper, up most of the night.’

‘That has nothing to do with my state of mind, darling,’ Dan said, ‘and everything to do with your snoring.’ He turned to Charity. ‘So what’s next for you? I presume the plan isn’t to work in your sister’s café all your life, as wonderful as it is?’

Charity sighed. ‘I’m looking for jobs but there’s nothing out there.’

Niall nodded. ‘Hearing that a lot lately.’

‘Have you thought about going private?’ Lana asked. ‘Setting up your own practice?’

‘I’d love that. But I don’t have any capital.’

‘Dan can give you money,’ Lana declared, clapping her hands. ‘I can decorate your office!’

Dan laughed. ‘Darling, you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself.’

‘Why couldn’t you?’ Lana asked. ‘It would help Charity out.’

Charity laughed nervously. Lana didn’t seem to have any kind of filter. ‘I’m sure Dan has better things to do with his money.’

‘Like buy my wife antiques in Paris,’ Dan said with a raised eyebrow. He turned to Niall. ‘What about you, Niall?’

‘I’m not into antiques,’ Niall said with a smile. ‘Don’t have a wife either.’

Dan laughed.

Niall leant back, his long legs stretching out in front of him. Charity glanced at his thighs, remembering how she had found it hard to hide her feelings from her sisters as she watched him strip his wetsuit off to reveal his muscular thighs the day after their first kiss.

‘I’m an underwater photographer,’ he said. ‘Mainly advertising jobs.’

Charity looked at him, surprised. Sure, he used to lug around an old camera, but she didn’t realise that was what he’d ended up doing.

‘Wonderful. How did you get into that?’ Lana asked.

‘Happened by accident really,’ Niall replied. ‘An old school friend ended up working for an advertising agency, knew I was a photographer and that I could dive, asked me to do a last-minute job a couple of years ago. More assignments came in.’

‘Is that why you’re back in Busby-on-Sea, an assignment?’ Dan asked.

‘No. I’ve been trying to find a submerged forest that’s supposed to be here actually.’ His eyes caught Charity’s briefly then flickered away.

Charity went very still. Faith’s underwater forest?

‘Why would a forest be submerged?’ Lana asked.

‘They were once land forests,’ Niall explained. ‘But due to lots of different reasons – dams bursting, floods – they get submerged by water. They’re all over the world, in oceans and lakes, even rivers. Some are quite beautiful to look at.’

‘So, like a woodland Atlantis?’ Lana asked. Charity thought back to the first time Faith had told her and Hope about them. She’d asked the same thing.

‘Exactly like that,’ Niall said. She wondered if he was thinking of Faith too. She wished he’d change the subject, this was becoming too painful.

‘What makes you think a submerged forest lies off the coast here?’ Dan asked Niall.

‘A fisherman got lost at sea once and thought he saw it,’ Niall explained. ‘Became a bit of a local legend.’

Dan went quiet, a thoughtful look on his face. ‘I think that fisherman may have been right about that forest, you know. I have a viewing glass on my boat and I saw something very interesting during a trip the other day.’

‘Really?’ Charity and Niall asked at the same time.

‘Really.’ Dan rang a bell by his side – an actual bell! – and an older woman with dark hair walked in. ‘Those photos you had developed for me the other day, Clara, can you bring them down?’

When Clara reappeared with a bunch of photos. Dan handed one to Charity and her eyes widened. In the top right corner of one was a shadowy outline of what looked like branches.

‘Where exactly did you see this?’ she asked Dan.

‘Across from the lighthouse. The co-ordinates are in the top right corner, see?’

She looked at Niall, unable to contain her excitement despite how painful the memories were. It was just where he’d suspected. He smiled at her and Charity’s stomach contracted. He rarely smiled but when it happened, it set the room on fire, the lines around his mouth deepening, his blue eyes sparkling. It suddenly felt like something was blossoming inside Charity again; something she’d stifled for so long. Had she ever stopped loving him?

She thought of Faith. If she hadn’t started loving him maybe her sister would be there now?

‘Can I have the co-ordinates?’ she asked Dan.

‘I can do one better,’ Dan said. ‘How about we go out on my boat tomorrow. You can both dive off it, see if you can find the forest for yourself?’

Charity looked at Niall. How could she possibly spend the day with him? It was out of the question. ‘I’m afraid I’ll be working at the café.’

‘The weekend then?’ Dan asked.

She shook her head. ‘Sorry.’

Niall sighed, looking down at his plate.

The door opened and Clara walked in again with a large gold tray. At first, Charity thought it was a tray of seashells of all different shapes and sizes but, as Clara drew closer, she noticed eight plump oysters in their shells were lying on a bed of seashells, a dollop of what looked like black beads on each one.

Niall’s eyes lifted to meet hers. She knew he too was thinking about their first date.

Dan lifted one of the oysters into the air and looked at Charity then Niall. ‘To real-life heroes and damsels in distress.’ Then he tipped his head back and let the oyster slither into his mouth, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. When Charity ate hers, it tasted just as the oysters had that moonlit night with Niall: of the sea, salty and earthy, the subtle taste of the caviar now making it even more delicious.

‘So how did you first meet?’ Lana asked Charity and Niall.

Charity looked down into her drink. She didn’t want to talk about the past.

‘On the beach,’ Niall said. ‘We were just kids.’

Lana leant her chin on her hands and smiled dreamily. ‘Oh, how romantic, meeting on a windswept beach!’

‘Don’t get ahead of yourself,’ Dan said, laughing.

‘No. I have a nose for these things,’ Lana said, tapping the side of her nose. ‘You can sense the chemistry oozing off these two. I’m right, aren’t I?’

Charity squirmed in her seat while Niall’s neck flushed red.

‘I am right!’ Lana said.

Dan put his hand on Lana’s. ‘Darling, I don’t think—’

‘So you’re not together now,’ Lana said, tapping her lower lip with her finger as she narrowed her eyes at them. ‘Why did you break up?’

Charity peered at the door. She should have left.

Niall opened his mouth to say something but Lana put her hand up. ‘No, wait, let me guess. You cheated on Charity!’

‘Lana, that’s enough,’ Dan said sharply.

‘No, wait,’ Lana said, looking between Charity and Niall. ‘She cheated on you.’

‘It wasn’t like that,’ Niall said quietly.

Charity felt tears sting her eyes. She took a quick sip of wine and looked away. Her last meeting with Niall had been so abrupt, a few moments on a windswept dark beach the week after Faith died, the terrible incident throbbing between them. It had been horrific enough to be told by her parents the day after she’d learnt of her sister’s death that she’d been knocked down in a hit and run. But then to discover Niall’s car was seen screeching away from the scene of her death. It was unbearable.

Hope had been livid. ‘You must never see him again,’ she’d hissed at Charity.

‘It was an accident,’ Charity had said, so confused, still in shock and trying to process the news herself.

‘He killed our sister.’

Charity hadn’t said anything. What could she say? She knew she must talk to Niall. But she hadn’t seen him since Faith had died and he wasn’t in their usual spot that night either. Each night, she waited for him, until a few nights later when she saw him waiting in the moonlight, head down, shoulders hunched.

That’s when he’d told her they couldn’t see each other again; that she had to get on with her life. She’d been devastated. People might think him a murderer but she knew he wasn’t. He was as grief-stricken as she was. He’d loved Faith too, spent many summers with her.

It was a terrible, terrible accident.

But Charity knew he was right. When she got back to the house, Hope was waiting for her.

‘You don’t have to say anything,’ Charity had quickly said, before Hope could say anything. ‘It’s over.’

Relief had flooded her sister’s face. ‘Thank God.’

How would she feel now, knowing Charity was having dinner with him?

Charity stood up. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to go.’

Niall looked up at her, brow creased.

‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ Lana said, pouting.

Niall stood with her. ‘I’ll walk you out.’

‘No,’ she said, her voice firmer than she’d intended. ‘Please don’t.’

His blue eyes flickered with an unbearable sadness. She felt that same sadness well up inside her. That fateful night had changed the course of both their lives. Charity hadn’t just lost a sister and Niall a friend. They’d lost each other too. Seeing him again made her realise just how utterly sad that part of the whole tragedy was. And how painful it was to dredge it all back up again. It also made her realise how much she still cared for him.

‘Take care, Niall,’ she said softly.

His eyes seemed to grow glassy. Then he blinked, forcing a smile on to his face. ‘You too, Charity. I hope you get a job soon, yeah? Don’t let Thatcher the Milk Snatcher beat you down.’

She smiled. He seemed to understand. ‘I won’t.’ She turned to Lana. ‘You take care, too, Lana.’

Lana shot Charity a flimsy smile then turned away.

When Charity got outside, instead of walking to her little car, she headed to the edge of the cliff. It was dark now, the moon above bright enough to light up the grass in front of her and the sea below. To the right, the cliff stretched out for miles, the odd light or two beaming in the distance. To the left, lights flickered from Busby-on-Sea, one road that stretched away from it in darkness: the road Faith died on.

Charity looked out over the sea as it splashed against the cliffs below. How Faith would have loved to dive that submerged forest.

She peered behind her at the huge white mansion. Over the years, she’d been unable to stop herself imagining how things would have been if that fateful night hadn’t happened. Would she and Niall have stayed together? How would their relationship have evolved over the years? Maybe they’d be here together, a loving couple? Maybe they’d be at Hope’s…or Faith’s.

She imagined them sitting around a large dining-room table made out of driftwood – Faith had always loved driftwood – bookshelves lined with oceanography books, beautiful underwater photos of submerged forests on the wall. She saw them laughing, drinking, Faith’s long hair a sheen of blonde down her back. Or maybe she’d have it cut, more practical for diving for samples. She’d still look stunning. She saw Niall relaxed, smiling; Hope happy with some man or another, the book of poetry she’d just got published lying on the side. Yes, that would be what the dinner was for, a celebration of Hope finally being published. Maybe having Faith around would have pushed her to do more with her poetry, Faith had always been so inspiring, making her two sisters want to do something special with their lives. With her gone, any real hope and ambition left them.

The scene disappeared. The truth was, she was on this cliff top alone, Faith gone, Hope a closed book. She collapsed to her knees and let out a sob.

‘Charity?’

She looked up to see Niall peering down at her in the darkness, face filled with concern. He put his hand on her shoulder. She quickly stood up, brushing grass and mud off her trousers and wiping her tears away. ‘I’m fine,’ she said.

‘I had no idea you’d been invited.’

‘I know, don’t apologise.’

‘I shouldn’t have mentioned the submerged forest.’

She got her car keys from her bag, unable to look at him. She went to walk past him but he softly grasped her arm.

‘I feel like I have so much to say to you,’ he said, eyes pained. ‘I didn’t reply to all your letters because I wanted you to just get on with your life.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘On Tuesday, when I saw you on the road…’

‘Niall, I said I don’t want to talk about it. Please just leave me alone.’

She shrugged his hand off and strode away. He stayed where he was, watching her with hooded eyes. More tears started rolling down her cheeks. She angrily wiped them away and then jumped into her car. She felt bad for walking away from him like this but she couldn’t let the past infringe on her future, she just couldn’t.

As she drove away, she saw Niall standing at the edge of the cliff, looking out towards the unlit road where Faith had lost her life.

Charity quietly let herself in when she arrived home ten minutes later. She was hoping she could sneak upstairs without her sister noticing.

But before she had the chance to even step foot on the first stair, Hope appeared at the door to the living room. ‘You’re back early.’

‘I had a funny tummy,’ she lied. The thought of telling her sister she had been sitting at the same table as Niall Lane was just too daunting.

‘That’s a shame.’ Hope lifted her pen to her mouth and nibbled on it. ‘So what are they like, the glamorous couple?’

‘A bit strange. I think Lana gets very bored in that huge house.’

‘I’m not surprised. And Dan North, is he still as charming and handsome as he was the other day?’

Charity shrugged. ‘I suppose, if you like that sort of thing.’

Hope narrowed her eyes. ‘No, I suppose your sort is tall, dark and murderous.’

‘Jesus, Hope!’

‘I can see it in you. It’s happening all over again.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Niall. He was there, wasn’t he?’

Charity clutched the banister. ‘I didn’t know how to tell you.’

‘I knew it!’ Hope said, sighing as she looked up at the ceiling. ‘You’re sullying Faith’s memory by seeing him.’

‘That’s not fair,’ Charity said in a raised voice. ‘I had no idea he’d be there.’

Her sister didn’t look convinced. ‘And now what?’ Hope asked.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Will you see him again?’

‘Of course not!’

Hope shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she said before slamming the door of the living room behind her.

Chapter Five

Charity

Busby-on-Sea, UK

March 1987

Charity looked down at herself as the boat she was on powered out to sea. She’d somehow managed to squeeze her curves into the old wetsuit she used to wear when diving as a teenager. Behind her lay Busby-on-Sea’s small coastline, ahead the disused lighthouse, foaming waves crashing up against the craggy rocks it stood on.

If there was a submerged forest out there, and Dan’s photos suggested there really was, she was determined to find it for Faith.

She’d woken that morning after a restless night, images of Faith winding her graceful body through a forest of underwater trees infiltrating her dreams. What better way to honour Faith’s memory – not sully it, as Hope accused her of – than to discover the forest for her? So she’d called a local boat company as soon as she woke and arranged to go out to the area where the co-ordinates on the photo suggested the forest was. The next morning, she’d woken even earlier than Hope – a relief because she didn’t want to argue again. And now here she was, an impulsive decision, one she was starting to regret. It had been years since she’d dived. In fact, the last time had been a week before Faith died. Charity and Hope had finally convinced her to come out diving with them and Niall. Faith had refused at first, said she was too busy studying. But then Charity had told her how much they missed her. ‘Just one hour,’ she remembered pleading with Faith. She’d smiled a smile that had seemed so rare since she’d returned from university for the Easter holidays and the three sisters had set off with Niall. Charity remembers sneaking a kiss with Niall behind the rocks as they’d got changed. She saw Faith watching them. But instead of smiling, she’d been frowning.

Only a week later, all their lives would be shattered.

‘Right,’ Charity whispered to herself as the boat came to a stop. ‘Let’s do this.’ She shrugged on her old stabiliser jacket, pulling her mask over her face. She did her checks like Niall had taught her as the boat’s captain, an old man with a grey beard, looked at her disapprovingly, knowing she shouldn’t be diving alone. Yes, it was risky. But what other choice did she have? Hope had refused to even step into the sea since Faith died and Charity couldn’t go with Niall, could she?

When she was ready, she took a few breaths then she jumped in, the bitter cold of the sea seeping into her skin as she deflated her jacket and descended. The tank felt awkward on her back, the wetsuit digging into all the wrong places. But as she got deeper, the shrieking seagulls quieting, the water misty and cold, a calmness descended upon her. She stayed still for a moment, taking it all in, the sea rippling and swaying, lifting her with it. She looked up, caught glimpses of the sun above, sparking off the surface. There was no sound but the gurgle of her snorkel and the deep low hush of her breath as she kicked her legs and glided through the water, trying to find some sign of the forest in the murky depths.

After ten minutes, the calmness dissipated. Emotion swelled inside her. She seemed to see Faith everywhere. She struggled to breathe in the air from the tank on her back, felt panic whir inside.

She couldn’t do this.

She started inflating her jacket, slowly rising to the surface, trying desperately to control her emotions as she moved up and up. When she broke the surface, she pulled her snorkel off, taking quick gasps of breath. She’d been a fool to come alone.

She looked up and was surprised to find another boat bobbing up and down next to the one she’d hired. It was gleaming white with chrome railings, Salacia written down its side in midnight blue. On its deck were two men.

Niall and Dan.

‘Great,’ Charity muttered under her breath.

They both looked imposing, tall and broad-shouldered in their wetsuits, Niall in his token black, Dan in a navy blue one. Beyond them, the sun peeked up from the horizon beneath wispy white clouds, the air feeling more like spring than ever.

‘Charity!’ Dan called out to her as Niall regarded her with hooded eyes. ‘Why didn’t you just get in touch with me, you could have come with us?’

‘I didn’t know you were coming this morning.’

‘Well, here we are,’ Dan said, spreading his arms out as he smiled. ‘You joining us?’

‘No, it’s alright,’ she said, swimming towards the boat she’d hired. ‘I’m going to head back.’

‘So you saw it?’ Niall asked her.

‘The forest? No sign of it.’

Dan’s face lit up. ‘Then you were looking in the wrong place, it’s another half a mile out.’

She paused, looking at Niall who was standing behind him, arms crossed, frown on his face. ‘Are you sure?’ she asked.

‘You saw the photos,’ Dan said. ‘Still want to go back to shore?’

‘Jim’ll take me, won’t you?’ Charity asked the old captain.

‘I have to be back to shore by ten,’ he replied.