One Minute Later: Behind every secret is a story, the emotionally gripping new book from the bestselling author. Susan Lewis
flushed. ‘Do what?’
‘Why do you send him away when any fool can see that you want him to stay?’
Gina flinched. ‘He’s got someone else,’ she replied.
This was the first Vivi had heard of someone else, and for a horrible moment it felt as though he was cheating on her mother, and on her. ‘If it’s serious,’ she heard herself saying angrily, ‘then you only have yourself to blame.’
Gina didn’t argue, merely set about straightening up cushions that didn’t need it at all.
There was so much more that Vivi wanted to say, or shout, or simply beg answers to, but it took all the energy she had left to say, ‘Everything’s different now, Mum, I hope you realize that. I intend to find out the truth before I die,’ and knowing Gina understood exactly what she meant she turned away, not able to say any more for now.
Vivi had been awake for a while, remembering when Gil had come into their lives and bought a house only four doors away from Michelle’s parents on Westleigh Heights.
He hadn’t only done it for her so she could stay living close to Michelle, as she’d believed at the time, he’d done it for her mother and NanaBella, because NanaBella hadn’t wanted Gina and Vivi to leave Kesterly either. So Gil had kept everyone together by renting out his home in Bath, relocating his consultancy business to Kesterly, and, best of all, he’d come most days to pick her up from school. That had shut everyone up about her not having a father, because they’d been able to see him, and so what if he wasn’t a real dad? As Michelle used to say, ‘That makes him even more special, because he chose you.’
Smiling at the sweet belief of that, Vivi opened her eyes, and wondered what time it was and, for a moment, where she was.
As everything came into focus she felt herself swirling back towards an abyss of despair. At the same time she was glad to be here, at home, no longer in hospital, and really she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else, while this was happening.
While this was happening.
That made it seem temporary; something simply to be got through until better days dawned. It was a good way to think of it, far better than the alternative of days becoming shorter and darker until there were no days at all.
She closed her eyes again, and tried to refocus, to think of the reasons to be grateful, and the many things she needed to do before time ran out. She realized there would be no bucket list for her – or not one that included daredevil stunts, long-haul flights or weeks of hot, passionate sex on a beach in the South Seas with a younger version of George Clooney. Her list would have to be far less ambitious – organizing her meditation programme would be a start. She also needed to see her GP, meet the specialist team at the local cardiac clinic who were taking over her interim care, and then she should make sure that the Kesterly ambulance service had been informed of the need to rush her to the transplant centre at a moment’s notice should a new heart come up.
Feeling certain that the cardiac team had already done that, and if not her mother would have, she sighed shakily and tried to change her train of thought again. It did no good to torment herself with the deeply troubling issue of someone having to die in order for her to live. She wasn’t even on the most urgent transplant list – she’d probably still be in hospital if she were – so it was hardly an immediate nightmare. Maybe she should spend her time feeling thankful that she wasn’t too sick to receive a new heart, the way some people were. Nor was she having to cope with the life-saving horror of a VAD, or not until her condition worsened – which it would …
Don’t think about it, she told herself forcefully. For God’s sake put it out of your mind or you might as well give up now.
She needed to pick herself up, force herself forward and do everything in her power to make things matter again – and something that really mattered, and always had, was finding her father.
That was what she needed to focus on now, and so she would.
Midsummer 1989
The night was warm and still, richly scented by livestock and wet grass, and lit by a near full moon. Shelley was carrying a torch in one hand and a basket in the other, feeling not unlike a nocturnal Red Riding Hood as she traipsed through the small copse next to the riverbank on the far western edge of their land. Though the way was mostly clear, the darkness over the fields was faintly unnerving, as was the occasional glimpse of amber eyes watching her from the undergrowth, and the birds that suddenly fluttered or squawked in the trees. She felt sure a thousand ghosts were following her, and as for the big bad wolf who might eat Red Riding Hood all up …
Smiling as she thought of the girls squealing and ducking under the covers whenever Jack told them that story, she pushed aside a leggy bramble and trudged on through the silvery darkness.
At last she reached the riverbank and there, just where she’d expected to find it, was the home-made tent that Jack and Josh used for their moonlight vigils. Josh had been particularly excited about this one, for their mission tonight was to spot an otter, in spite of none having been seen in this county since the 1950s. However, Josh was determined to find one, and if he didn’t, well, there would be lots of other things to spot instead.
Choking back a laugh as she found them fast asleep in their hideout with Jack leaning against a backrest and Josh lying across his lap, she quietly put down her basket and stood watching them, loving how peaceful and alike they were. Both had thick dark hair that curled and waved in no particular style, and when he was older Josh was clearly going to have his father’s strong jaw and large nose.
She smiled as her precious boy opened his eyes and put a finger to his lips. He moved carefully away from his father and crawled out of the tent. ‘Dad’s asleep,’ he whispered as he reached his mother. ‘He’s missed some really good stuff. I’ve seen everything.’
‘An otter?’ Shelley asked, sitting down next to him.
‘No, but there was a hippopotamus.’ Josh’s eyes were round with awe, as though he truly believed it. ‘It was enormous,’ he confided. ‘You should have seen it. It could have eaten us all up if it had spotted us.’
Shelley said gravely, ‘Lucky it didn’t.’
‘Yes, very lucky. There was a deer with two fawns who came to have a drink,’ he went on, still whispering. ‘I was scared for them, but the hippo didn’t see them.’
‘Wow,’ Shelley murmured. ‘Where is it now, do you know?’
‘I think it swam away, but it might still be somewhere, you never know.’
‘Well, you’d better make sure it doesn’t spot you.’
‘I will. We’re being very quiet.’ He was digging into the basket now, bringing out apples and cake and two thick-cut sandwiches filled with cheese and pickle. ‘I’ll save one of these for Dad,’ he said softly. ‘He might be hungry when he wakes up. Oh! Did you hear that?’
‘What?’ Shelley whispered, all ears and intrigue. After all, it might be the hippo.
‘It was an owl,’ he told her. ‘Ha! There it is again. I think it’s the one that lives in our barn. I’ll tell Dad about it when he wakes up.’
Shelley glanced over her shoulder, and seeing that Jack was watching them through narrowly opened eyes she had to swallow the surge of love that tightened her throat. Of course she’d known that he wouldn’t fall asleep while they were out on vigil, but she also knew that it made Josh feel brave and adventurous to think that he was in charge of keeping them safe.